Yesterday was the anniversary of Jane Austen's death, 18th July 1817. She passed away in a rented house they had taken at 8 College Street, Winchester, following a long period of illness, during which time she had tried to find a cure, but to no avail and seems to have spent her last months left revisiting old places that held particular importance to her. As a Christian, she had time to prepare herself for death. If it is hard for us to imagine, consider how much harder it must have been for Jane, knowing all the wonderful books she had yet to write, the 'children', as she called them, that had not yet seen the light of day.
This is how her beloved sister Cassandra described her last moments:
Taken from Paula Byrne's book: 'Jane Austen: A Life in Small Things'
Her memorial stone makes no mention of her novels-they were not the preoccupation of Jane Austen's Georgian age. Thankfully, today, Jane Austen is known for the great writer that she truly was, and just by my posting this article, or by you reading it, we are all, in our own little way, celebrating the life of a one that left us too soon, but left us better-off, for all that.