The release of the final Harry Potter story ends one of the most extraordinary series in publishing history. But while J. K. Rowling is widely credited with reacquainting young people with the discipline of reading long books, it is far too early to judge whether her own works will survive the test of time.

Harry Potter may well join the ranks of Alice, Peter Pan, Mr Toad and Peter Rabbit for whom age seemingly shall not weary, nor the years condemn. Yet, massive sales are no guarantee of immortality. A trawl through history’s bestselling children’s books brings up many titles that sold in their millions but have since fallen by the wayside.

Once upon a time there was a Victorian children’s writer called Juliana Horatia Ewing whose books were loved by children and adults alike. A publishing sensation in the 1870s and 80s, each new release was hyped by a front-page advertisement in The Times.

Unlike many children’s writers, Mrs Ewing had at least two talents shared by J. K. Rowling – she never talked down to her audience and had an ability to appeal to both girls and boys. Nor was her fan base confined to the miniature smock-wearers. Even stern cultural critics such as John Ruskin admired her literary élan and Rudyard Kipling was among the serious authors she inspired to write for children.

Her books ranged from fairies and fantasy to tales of derring-do. Her bestseller, Jackanapes, was a story about the eponymous hero and his friend Tom, who having ridden wooden horses as two little boys end up together on a Napoleonic battlefield. There, Jackanapes rides to the rescue of the wounded and dismounted Tom. Jackanapes nobly replies to Tom’s entreaties to save himself, “Leave you? To save my skin? No, Tom. Not to save my soul.” He promptly takes a fatal bullet in the left lung. The spirit of sacrifice ran throughout her oeuvre. Perhaps this might be expected from a woman whose grandfather, as HMS Victory’s chaplain, had held the dying Nelson in his arms.

However, despite writing more than 30 books, Mrs Ewing found fame but not fortune. Always in poor health, she had just finished The Story of a Short Life when she died in 1885, at the age of 43. Her grave was blanketed in flowers from distraught children. The Contemporary Review promptly suggested that her stories and verses “are – surely? – in every nursery”. Yet so quickly did she fall out of favour that for most of the next century her books were out of print.

It remains to be seen whether J. K. Rowling’s enthralling stories will fare better. But while Juliana Horatia Ewing may now be forgotten, at least one of her creations found new life from beyond her grave. Robert and Olave Baden-Powell read a book she had written about helpful little girls. The book was called The Brownies.

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