Who Killed Jane Austen?

"Watch out for the cows!"

A British medical researcher has put forth a new theory on the disease that claimed Jane Austen’s life. While previous speculation centered around Addison’s disease or lymphoma, “Katherine White of the Addison’s Disease Self Help Group has written an article for the British Medical Journal’s Medical Humanities magazine in which she says that Austen probably died of tuberculosis caught from cattle.” This postulation is actually borne out if one reads letters Austen sent to her family at the time, as well as the original ending of Sense and Sensibility, which was changed because it was thought to be too bleak.

With an income quite sufficient to their wants thus secured to them, they had nothing to wait for after Edward was in possession of the living, but the readiness of the house, to which Colonel Brandon, with an eager desire for the accommodation of Elinor, was making considerable improvements; and after waiting some time for their completion, after experiencing, as usual, a thousand disappointments and delays from the unaccountable dilatoriness of the workmen, Elinor, as usual, broke through the first positive resolution of not marrying till every thing was ready, and the ceremony took place in Barton church early in the autumn.

The first month after their marriage was spent with their friend at the Mansion-house; from whence they could superintend the progress of the Parsonage, and direct every thing as they liked on the spot;-could chuse papers, project shrubberies, and invent a sweep. Mrs. Jennings’s prophecies, though rather jumbled together, were chiefly fulfilled; for she was able to visit Edward and his wife in their Parsonage by Michaelmas, and she found in Elinor and her husband, as she really believed, one of the happiest couples in the world. They had in fact nothing to wish for, but the marriage of Colonel Brandon and Marianne, and rather better pasturage for their cows.

The cows, in fact, were more than vexed. As Elinor walked thru the pasture one morning, a milk cow, familiarly known as Bessie, rose upon its hind feet, as if some kind of great beast.

“I shall kill you,” cried Bessie, quite startling Elinor, “I come to talk to you of your demise. This way of treating us is more than unflattering. So terrible you are!-You know how I dread to complain;-but the very moment I saw you pass by, there was such an anger in my temper as really should seem to say, I will see you shuffle off this mortal coil.”

“But, but-” stammered Elinor, so full of fear and confusion, “you are a cow! How could you kill me?”

“It’s called bovine disseminated tuberculosis, you annoying bitch, and now you’ve got it. You won’t see Christmas. MUHAHHAHAHA.”

Elinor was indeed dead within the month. Fucking cows.


Yep. It’s all there.