Amelia B. Edwards


Born
in London, The United Kingdom
June 07, 1831

Died
April 15, 1892

Genre


Amelia Ann Blandford Edwards

An English novelist, journalist, lady traveller and Egyptologist, born to an Irish mother and a father who had been a British Army officer before becoming a banker. Edwards was educated at home by her mother, showing considerable promise as a writer at a young age. She published her first poem at the age of 7, her first story at age 12. Edwards thereafter proceeded to publish a variety of poetry, stories and articles in a large number of magazines.

Edwards' first full-length novel was My Brother's Wife (1855). Her early novels were well received, but it was Barbara's History (1864), a novel of bigamy, that solidly established her reputation as a novelist. She spent considerable time and effort on their settings an
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Average rating: 3.88 · 3,235 ratings · 352 reviews · 168 distinct worksSimilar authors
A Thousand Miles Up the Nile

4.10 avg rating — 133 ratings — published 1877 — 57 editions
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The Phantom Coach: Collecte...

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3.92 avg rating — 65 ratings — published 1999 — 4 editions
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Winter Ghosts: Classic Ghos...

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3.84 avg rating — 51 ratings — published 2014
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All Saints' Eve

3.32 avg rating — 28 ratings — published 1876
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The Phantom Coach

3.46 avg rating — 26 ratings — published 1864
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Famous Ghost Stories

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3.31 avg rating — 29 ratings — published 1980 — 2 editions
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El carruaje fantasma y otra...

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3.64 avg rating — 25 ratings — published 2009 — 4 editions
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Untrodden Peaks and Unfrequ...

3.83 avg rating — 18 ratings — published 1873 — 21 editions
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Was It an Illusion? A Parso...

3.12 avg rating — 17 ratings — published 1881
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Monsieur Maurice

3.63 avg rating — 19 ratings — published 1873 — 18 editions
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More books by Amelia B. Edwards…
“The future - what should I do with the future? I felt like one who has climbed the brow of a great hill, and finds only a sea of mist beyond. Go forward I must; but to what goal? With what aim? With what hopes? My father had already distinctly forbidden me to adopt art as a profession. My sister, by ignoring all the purport of my last letter, as distinctly signified her own contempt for that which was to me as the life of my life. Neither loved me; both had wounded me bitterly; and I now, almost for the first time, distinctly saw how difficult a struggle lay before me.
"If I become a painter," I thought, "I become so in defiance of my family; and, defying them, am alone in the wide world evermore. If, on the contrary, I yield and obey, what manner of life lies before me? The hollow life of fashionable society, into which I shall be carried as a marriageable commodity, and where I shall be expected to fulfil my duty as a daughter by securing a wealthy husband as speedily as possible.
Alas! alas! what an alternative! Was it for this that I had studied and striven? Was it for this that I had built such fairy castles, and dreamt such dreams?”
Amelia B. Edwards, Barbara's History

“My heart beat violently. My forehead was bathed in a cold perspiration. I asked myself for the first time what it was that I was about to see when this door was opened? What chamber, long closed - what deed of mystery, long forgotten - what family secret, long buried, would be revealed to my eyes? Was it right, after all, that I should pursue this discovery? Ought I not, perhaps, to go back as I had come; tell my husband of the secret upon which I had stumbled; and leave it to him to deal with according to his pleasure? Hesitating thus, I had, even now, more than half a mind to go no farther. It was a struggle between delicacy and curiosity; and I was a mere woman, after all, and curiosity prevailed.
"Come what may," said I aloud, "I will see what lies beyond this door!"
And with this I opened it.”
Amelia B. Edwards, Barbara's History

“The world,’ he said, ‘grows hourly more and more sceptical of all that lies beyond its own narrow radius; and our men of science foster the fatal tendency. They condemn as fable all that resists experiment. They reject as false all that cannot be brought to the test of the laboratory or the dissecting-room. Against what superstition have they waged so long and obstinate a war, as against the belief of apparitions? And yet what superstition has maintained its hold upon the minds of men so long and so firmly? Show me any fact in physics, in history, in archaeology, which is supported by testimony so wide and so various. Attested by all races of men, in all ages, and in all climates, by the soberest sages of antiquity, by the rudest savage of today, by the Christian, the Pagan, the Pantheist, the Materialist, this phenomenon is treated as a nursery tale by the philosophers of our century. Circumstantial evidence weighs with them as a feather in the balance. The comparison of causes with effects, however valuable in physical science, is put aside as worthless and unreliable. The evidence of competent witnesses, however conclusive in a court of justice, counts for nothing. He who pauses before he pronounces is condemned as a trifler. He who believes, is a dreamer or a fool.”
Amelia B. Edwards, The Phantom Coach: Collected Ghost Stories

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