153 years ago

On a day like today in 1855 the literary world lost a writer it had only just begun to know and stood in awe of. Charlotte Brontë, supposedly in the early stages of pregnancy, passed away in Haworth Parsonage, surrounded by her loved ones, leaving behind her husband of nine barely months, her bereved father, a much loving servant and thousands - both at the time and afterwards - of admirers who found much to love and discuss both in her writings - published and unpublished, personal and professional - and her life.

To this day the words of a parson's daughter who discovered the joys of writing thanks to a wooden soldier still ring true for many, many people as we daily discover at BrontëBlog.

Categories: Charlotte Brontë, Reminder