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On July 18, 1817 Jane Austen died at the age of 41 of Addison’s disease, a diagnosis that remains largely disputed. Her last hours are described by her grieving sister Cassandra to Fanny Knight, Jane’s beloved niece. Other posts that Tony Grant and I have written on the topic sit below.

Isabel Bishop’s scene in Pride and Prejudice

My dearest Fanny,

Doubly dear to me now for her dear sake whom we have lost. She did love you most sincerely, and never shall I forget the proofs of love you gave her during her illness in writing those kind, amusing letters at a time when I know your feelings would have dictated so different a style. Take the only reward I can give you in the assurance that your benevolent purpose was answered; you did contribute to her enjoyment.

Even your last letter afforded pleasure. I merely cut the seal and gave it to her; she opened it and read it herself, afterwards she gave it to me to read, and then talked to me a little and not uncheerfully of its contents, but there was then a languor about her which prevented her taking the same interest in anything she had been used to do.

Since Tuesday evening, when her complaint returned, there was a visible change, she slept more and much more comfortably; indeed, during the last eight-and-forty hours she was more asleep than awake. Her looks altered and she fell away, but I perceived no material diminution of strength, and, though I was then hopeless of a recovery, I had no suspicion how rapidly my loss was approaching.

I have lost a treasure, such a sister, such a friend as never can have been surpassed. She was the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow; I had not a thought concealed from her, and it is as if I had lost a part of myself. I loved her only too well — not better than she deserved, but I am conscious that my affection for her made me sometimes unjust to and negligent of others; and I can acknowledge, more than as a general principle, the justice of the Hand which has struck this blow.

You know me too well to be at all afraid that I should suffer materially from my feelings; I am perfectly conscious of the extent of my irreparable loss, but I am not at all overpowered and very little indisposed, nothing but what a short time, with rest and change of air, will remove. I thank God that I was enabled to attend her to the last, and amongst my many causes of self-reproach I have not to add any wilful neglect of her comfort.

Cassandra’s watercolour of Fanny Knight

She felt herself to be dying about half-an-hour before she became tranquil and apparently unconscious. During that half-hour was her struggle, poor soul! She said she could not tell us what she suffered, though she complained of little fixed pain. When I asked her if there was anything she wanted, her answer was she wanted nothing but death, and some of her words were: “God grant me patience, pray for me, oh, pray for me!” Her voice was affected, but as long as she spoke she was intelligible.

I hope I do not break your heart, my dearest Fanny, by these particulars; I mean to afford you gratification whilst I am relieving my own feelings. I could not write so to anybody else; indeed you are the only person I have written to at all, excepting your grandmamma — it was to her, not your Uncle Charles, I wrote on Friday.

Immediately after dinner on Thursday I went into the town to do an errand which your dear aunt was anxious about. I returned about a quarter before six and found her recovering from faintness and oppression; she got so well as to be able to give me a minute account of her seizure, and when the clock struck six she was talking quietly to me.

I cannot say how soon afterwards she was seized again with the same faintness, which was followed by the sufferings she could not describe; but Mr. Lyford had been sent for, had applied something to give her ease, and she was in a state of quiet insensibility by seven o’clock at the latest. From that time till half-past four, when she ceased to breathe, she scarcely moved a limb, so that we have every reason to think, with gratitude to the Almighty, that her sufferings were over. A slight motion of the head with every breath remained till almost the last. I sat close to her with a pillow in my lap to assist in supporting her head, which was almost off the bed, for six hours; fatigue made me then resign my place to Mrs. J. A. for two hours and a-half, when I took it again, and in about an hour more she breathed her last.

House on College Street in Winchester where Jane Austen died

I was able to close her eyes myself, and it was a great gratification to me to render her those last services. There was nothing convulsed which gave the idea of pain in her look; on the contrary, but for the continual motion of the head she gave one the idea of a beautiful statue, and even now, in her coffin, there is such a sweet, serene air over her countenance as is quite pleasant to contemplate.

This day, my dearest Fanny, you have had the melancholy intelligence, and I know you suffer severely, but I likewise know that you will apply to the fountain-head for consolation, and that our merciful God is never deaf to such prayers as you will offer.

The last sad ceremony is to take place on Thursday morning; her dear remains are to be deposited in the cathedral. It is a satisfaction to me to think that they are to lie in a building she admired so much; her precious soul, I presume to hope, reposes in a far superior mansion. May mine one day be re-united to it!

Jane Austen is buried in Winchester Cathedral.

Your dear papa, your Uncle Henry, and Frank and Edwd. Austen, instead of his father, will attend. I hope they will none of them suffer lastingly from their pious exertions. The ceremony must be over before ten o’clock, as the cathedral service begins at that hour, so that we shall be at home early in the day, for there will be nothing to keep us here afterwards.

Your Uncle James came to us yesterday, and is gone home to-day. Uncle H. goes to Chawton to-morrow morning; he has given every necessary direction here, and I think his company there will do good. He returns to us again on Tuesday evening.

I did not think to have written a long letter when I began, but I have found the employment draw me on, and I hope I shall have been giving you more pleasure than pain. Remember me kindly to Mrs. J. Bridges (I am so glad she is with you now), and give my best love to Lizzie and all the others.

I am, my dearest Fanny,
Most affectionately yours,
Cass. Eliz. Austen

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In mid April 1817 Jane Austen was so ill she took to her bed in Chawton. By the 27th April she had written her will. After a visit from her brother James and his wife Mary she agreed to go to Winchester to be close to her surgeon who would take care of her there.

Image courtesy © Tony Grant

Lodgings were found in 8 College Street, Winchester, which backed on to the grounds of Winchester College and was close to the precincts of Winchester Cathedral.

View of College Street today. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

At first she was able to take trips from the house in College street in a sedan chair. This was an upright box about the size of a telephone kiosk, often with glazed windows to each side and furnished with a comfortable chair. Too long vertical poles secured, one to each side by iron retaining loops, were used to carry the sedan chair and its occupant.

Sedan Chair

As you can imagine only short journeys could be attempted in this way because the chair and occupant would be heavy. Winchester is a not a big city and the cathedral and its precinct, a picturesque and shaded walk along the River Itchen which passes through the city, and the shops in the high Street, were only a short journey from the front door of 8 College Street.

Bishop of Winchester Palace. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

Jane was also able to walk around the rooms inside the house in College Street. Jane herself was always optimistic. Cassandra was far more fearful.

Jane’s house on College Street, Winchester. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

In early June of 1817 James Austen wrote to his son at Oxford, “I grieve to write what will grieve to read; but I must tell you that we can no longer flatter ourselves with the least hope of having your dear valuable Aunt Jane restored to us.”

River Itchen, bridge and Town Mill. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

Later in the same letter James states that his sister is “….. well aware of her situation.” and also at another point he writes “…. an easy departure from this to a better world is all that we can pray for.”

Winchester Water Mill. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

All this sounds very gloomy. However, Jane’s health seemed to improve for a while to the surprise of all.

Winchester Cathedral, West Front. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

On the morning of the 15th July, St Swithuns Day Jane dictated a humorous poem to Cassandra. She must have been mulling the words over in her head. It was called, Venta, an old fashioned name for Winchester.

“Oh subjects rebellious!
Oh Venta depraved
By vice you’re enslaved…..

Winchester Cathedral Flying Buttresses. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

St. Swithun was a Saxon saint who had lived in Winchester. He was buried in the Cathedral and his grave became a focus for pilgrims coming to pray for favours. Winchester was as famous as a place for pilgrimage because of St Swithun, as Canterbury became later because of Thomas a Beckets martyrdom near the high altar in Canterbury Cathedral.. There is a famous rhyme associated with St Swithun:

‘St. Swithin’s day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain St. Swithin’s day if thou be fair For forty days ’twill rain nae mair.’

However the depraved and enslaved that Jane refers to was probably about some of the characters who frequented the yearly tradition of horse racing and betting on the races that took place on St Swithun’s day to celebrate the saint. I’m sure there was some depraved activities at these Winchester races.

Winchester Cathedral, South Side. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

There is a line in the poem that is thought to have been edited by Cassandra herself as Jane dictad the poem to her.

“When once we are buried you think we are gone.”

The poem is a rhyming poem and the last word of this line,
” gone,” does not rhyme with the final word of the next couplet which is the word, “said.” The word dead fits perfectly.

Winchester Cathedral Close Houses. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

Cassandra’s first tentative foray into editing her sister’s words. The letters came later.

On the 17th July the sun shone during the day and evening and rained at night time. Mary Austen, James’s wife ( Jane didn’t get on with her) wrote “ Jane Austen was taken for death about ½ past 5 in the evening” This was a seizure and Mr Lyford Jane’s doctor thought that a blood vessel had ruptured inside Jane’s head. Dr Lyford administered something, which Cassandra does not make clear in her letters afterwards. It was probably laudanum, a derivative of opium.

Winchester Cathedral Aisle. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

Some of the last recorded words of Jane’s are, “ God grant me patience, Pray for me oh Pray for me.” She had struggled somewhat during these last moments and had partly come off her bed. Cassandra got a stool and sat next to Jane resting her head in her lap. She sat like this for six hours before she had a rest and Mary Austen took over for the next two hours until 3am in the morning then Cassandra took over the position once again. An hour later Jane Austen breathed her last breath. She was pronounced dead at 4am. Cassandra closed Jane’s eyes.

A few days later the Salisbury and Winchester Journal wrote,

“On Friday 18th inst. Died, in this city, Miss Jane Austen, youngest daughter of the late Rev. George Austen, rector of Steventon , in the county and authoress of Emma, Mansfield park, pride and prejudice and sense and Sensibility.”

Henry, her beloved brother, wrote the words to be etched on her tomb in Winchester Cathedral. He failed to mention her literary achievements.

Cassandra was distraught at her sister’s death.

However she was able to write letters to friends and family and deal with many of the practical things needed to be done after Jane’s death. On Sunday 20th July, two days after Jane died, Cassandra wrote to fanny Knight and Cassandra expresses a lot of the emotion she must have felt.

Jane Austen’s Grave. Image courtesy © Tony Grant

“ I have lost a treasure, such a sister, such a friend as never can be surpassed,-She was the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow, I had not a thought concealed from her, & it is if I had lost a part of myself.”

Four days later on the 24th July Jane was buried in the north aisle of Winchester cathedral. There has been some speculation as to how she was buried in such an honoured place. Her father was a local vicar, but that would not have been sufficient to get her a burial inside the cathedral. It might have been there was a friend of the family who was part of the diocesan hierarchy who got permission as a favour.

Jane Austen’s Grave, Image courtesy © Tony Grant

Four days after the internment on the 28th July Cassandra got down to the business of sorting out formalities. She wrote to Anne Sharp;

“ My dear Miss Sharp, I have great pleasure in sending you the lock of hair you wish for,& I add one pair of clasps which she sometimes wore & a small bodkin which she had had in use for more than twenty years.”

A certain austere efficiency has entered Cassandra’s actions.

So Jane Austen was dead. But, she lives on.

Posted by Tony Grant, the blog author of London Calling

About Tony Grant:

I am now partly retired from teaching. I do some supply teaching but I also work as a freelance tour guide for a Canadian company called Tours by Locals.

I lead tours of the South of England for family and friendship groups. Many of the tours are tailor made to peoples personal requirements.

I was born in Southampton. From an early age my grandmother made me aware of Jane Austen. It was my grandmother who showed me the site in Castle Square where Jane lived for two years. On visits to Winchester my grandmother also showed me the house where Jane died and her tomb in the north aisle of Winchester Cathedral.

I read my first Jane Austen novel, Mansfield Park, when I was doing my Batchelor of Arts degree in the early 1970’s. Having been born and brought up in Southampton, Hampshire, and now living in North Surrey, I have been able to visit, over the years many of the places Jane mentions in her letters and uses in her novels. I live very close to some of those places.

I have my own BLOG, London Calling, in which I discuss ideas and places to do with Jane. My BLOG also allows me to present one of my other passions photography. I have photographed many Jane Austen sites.

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Gentle Reader, July 18th marks the anniversary of Jane Austen’s Death. This post was first published in 2007:

Mary Austen nee Lloyd, the wife of James Austen, was present at Jane’s death. She wrote the following passage in her diary (See image below)

17 July 1817 “Jane Austen was taken for death about ½ past 5 in the Evening”
18 July 1817 Jane breathed her last ½ after four in the morn; only Cass[andra] and I were with her. Henry came, Austen & Ed came, the latter returned home”

Read a sad but fascinating account of Jane’s final hours, Jane Austen’s Final Resting Place, at Hantsweb.
Jane spent her last days in a small house in Winchester, near a doctor of some repute. She wrote in May:

I live chiefly on the sofa, but am allowed to walk from one room to the other. I have been out once in a sedan-chair, and am to repeat it and be promoted to a wheeled chair as the weather serves.” And speaking of her illness she remarks, “On this subject I will only say further that my dearest sister, my tender watchful, indefatigable nurse has not been made ill by her exertions. As to what I owe to her, and to the anxious affection of all my beloved family on this occasion, I can only cry over it, and pray to God to bless them more and more. – Chapter XXIII, Jane Austen: Her Homes & Her Friends (John Lane The Bodley Head, 1923) by Constance Hill.


Jane died on July 18, 1817. Cassandra, Jane’s dear sister, wrote these affecting words:

Since Tuesday evening, when her complaint returned, there was a visible change, she slept more and much more comfortably; indeed, during the last eight-and-forty hours she was more asleep than awake. Her looks altered and she fell away, but I perceived no material diminution of strength, and, though I was then hopeless of a recovery, I had no suspicion how rapidly my loss was approaching.

I have lost a treasure, such a sister, such a friend as never can have been surpassed. She was the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow; I had not a thought concealed from her, and it is as if I had lost a part of myself. I loved her only too well — not better than she deserved, but I am conscious that my affection for her made me sometimes unjust to and negligent of others; and I can acknowledge, more than as a general principle, the justice of the Hand which has struck this blow.

You know me too well to be at all afraid that I should suffer materially from my feelings; I am perfectly conscious of the extent of my irreparable loss, but I am not at all overpowered and very little indisposed, nothing but what a short time, with rest and change of air, will remove. I thank God that I was enabled to attend her to the last, and amongst my many causes of self-reproach I have not to add any wilful neglect of her comfort.

She felt herself to be dying about half-an-hour before she became tranquil and apparently unconscious. During that half-hour was her struggle, poor soul! She said she could not tell us what she suffered, though she complained of little fixed pain. When I asked her if there was anything she wanted, her answer was she wanted nothing but death, and some of her words were: “God grant me patience, pray for me, oh, pray for me!” Her voice was affected, but as long as she spoke she was intelligible.

Read the rest of the letter on the Republic of Pemberley website.

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