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diff --git a/old/seafo10.txt b/old/seafo10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4bd720 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/seafo10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,730 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sea Fogs, by Robert Louis Stevenson +(#40 in our series by Robert Louis Stevenson) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Sea Fogs + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + +Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5272] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 23, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE SEA FOGS *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by David Schwan <davidsch@earthlink.net>. + + + +Western Classics No. 1 + + + +The Sea Fogs + + + +A sheeted spectre white and tall, +The cold mist climbs the castle wall +And lays its hand upon thy cheek. + +Longfellow. + + + +The Sea Fogs + +By Robert Louis Stevenson + +with an Introduction by Thomas Rutherford Bacon + +The Photogravure Frontispiece after a Painting +by Albertine Randall Wheelan + + + +Introduction + + + +Robert Louis Stevenson first came to California in 1879 for the purpose +of getting married. The things that delayed his marriage are +sufficiently set forth in his "Letters" (edited by Sidney Colvin) and in +his "Life" (written by Graham Balfour). It is here necessary to refer +only to the last of the obstacles, the breaking down of his health. It +is in connection with the evil thing that came to him at this time that +be first makes mention of "the sea fogs," that beset a large part of the +California coast. He speaks of them as poisonous; and poisonous they are +to any one who is afflicted with pulmonary weakness, but bracing and +glorious to others. They give the charm of climate to dwellers around +the great bay. How he took this first very serious attack of the +terrible malady is indicated in the letter to Edmund Gosse, dated April +16, 1880. His attitude toward death is shown here, and is further shown +in his little paper AEs Triplex, in which he successfully vindicates his +generation from the charge of cowardice in the face of death. +Stevenson's two distinguishing characteristics were his courage and his +determination to be happy as the right way of making other people happy. +His courage, far more than change of scene and climate, gave him +fourteen more years in which to contribute to the sweetness and light of +the world. These years were made fruitful to others by his determined +happiness, a happiness in which the main factor, outside of his own +determination, came from the companionship which his marriage brought to +him. The great principles by which he lived influenced those who did not +know him personally, through his gift of writing. He always maintained +that it was not a gift but an achievement, and that any one could write +as well as he by taking as much pains. We may well doubt the soundness +of this theory, but we cannot doubt the spiritual attitude from which it +came. It came from no mock humility, but from a feeling that nothing was +creditable to him except what he did. He asked no credit for the talents +committed to his charge He asked credit only for the use be made of the +talents. + +Stevenson was married May 19, 1880. His health, which had delayed the +marriage, determined the character of the honeymoon. He must get away +from the coast and its fogs. His honeymoon experiences are recorded in +one of the most delightful of his minor writings, "The Silverado +Squatters." He went, with his wife, his stepson and a dog, to squat on +the eastern shoulder of Mount Saint Helena, a noble mountain which +closes and dominates the Napa Valley, a wonderful and fertile valley, +running northward from the bay of San Francisco. Silverado was a +deserted mining-camp. Stevenson has intimated that there are more ruined +cities in California than in the land of Bashan, and in one of these he +took up his residence for about two months, "camping" in the deserted +quarters of the extinct mining company. Had he gone a little beyond the +toll-house, just over the shoulder of the mountain, he would probably +never have seen the glory of "the sea fogs." It would have been better +for his health but worse for English literature. + +My first knowledge of that glory came to me twenty years ago. I had come +to California to care for one dearly beloved by me, who was fighting the +same fight that Stevenson fought, and against the same enemy, and who +was fighting it just as bravely. I took him to the summit of the Santa +Cruz Mountains in the hope that we might escape the fogs. As I watched +on the porch of the little cottage where he lay, I saw night after night +what I believe to be the most beautiful of all natural phenomena, the +sea fog of the Pacific, seen from above. Under the full moon, or under +the early sun which slowly withers it away, the great silver sea with +its dark islands of redwood seemed to me the most wonderful of things. +With my wonder and delight, perhaps making them more poignant, was the +fear lest the glory should mount too high, and lay its attractive hand +on my beloved. The fog has been dear to me ever since. I have often +grumbled at it when I was in it or under it, but when I have seen it +from above, that first thrill of wonder and delight has come back to me +- always. Whether on the Berkeley hills I see its irresistible columns +moving through the Golden Gate across the bay to take possession of the +land, or whether I stand on the height of Tamalpais and look at the +white, tangled flood below, - + +"My heart leaps up when I behold." + +It remains to me - + +"A vision, a delight and a desire." + +When the beauty of the fog first got hold of me, I wondered whether any +one had given literary expression to its supreme charm. I searched the +works of some of the better-known California poets, not quite without +result. I was familiar with what seem to me the best of the serious +verses of Bret Harte, the lines on San Francisco, - wherein the city is +pictured as a penitent Magdalen, cowled in the grey of the Franciscans, +- the soft pale grey of the sea fog. The literary value of the figure is +hardly injured by the cold fog that the penitence of this particular +Magdalen has never been of an enduring quality. It is to be noted that +what Harte speaks of is not the beauty of the fog, but its sobriety and +dignity. + +Sill, with his susceptibility to the infinite variety of nature +and with the spark of the divine fire which burned in him, refers often +to some of the effects of the fog, such as the wonderful sunset colors +on the Berkeley hills in summer. But I find only one direct allusion to +the beauty of the fog itself: - + +[1]"There lies a little city in the hills; +White are its roofs, dim is each dwelling's door, +And peace with perfect rest its bosom fills. + +"There the pure mist, the pity of the sea, +Comes as a white, soft hand, and reaches o'er +And touches its still face most tenderly." + +In 1887 I had not read "The Silverado Squatters." Part of it had been +published in Scribner's Magazine. It was only in the following year that +I got hold of the book and found an almost adequate expression of my own +feeling about the sea fogs. Stevenson did not know all their beauty, for +he was not here long enough, but he could tell what be saw. In other +words, he had a gift which is denied to most of us. + +Silverado is now a quite impossible place for squatting. When I first +tried to enter, I found it so given over to poison-oak and rattlesnakes +that I did not care to pursue my investigations very far. I did not know +at that time that I was quite immune from the poison of the oak and that +the California rattlesnake was quite so friendly and harmless an animal +as John Muir has since assured us that be is. The last time that I +passed Silverado, it was accessible only by the aid of a gang of +wood-choppers. + +Curiously, the last great fog effect that I have seen was almost the +same which Stevenson has described. Last summer we had been staying for +a month with our friends who have a summer home about three miles beyond +Stevenson's "toll-house." It is, I believe, the most beautiful +country-seat on this round earth, and its free and gentle hospitality +cannot be surpassed. We left this delightful place of sojourning between +three and four o'clock in the morning to catch the early train from +Calistoga. Our steep climb up to the toll-house was under the broad +smile of the moon, which gradually gave way to the brilliant dawn. When +we passed the toll-house, the whole Napa Valley should have been +revealed to us, but it was not. The fog had surged through it and had +hidden it. What we saw was better than the beautiful Napa Valley. I +should like to tell what we saw, but I cannot, - "For what can the man +do who cometh after the king?" + + + +[1] This exquisite little poem is unaccountably omitted from the +Household (and presumably complete) Edition of Sill's poems issued by +Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1906. It is found in the little volume, +"Poems," by Edward Rowland Sill, published by the same firm at an +earlier date. Mountain View Cemetery is no longer a "little city." + + + +The Sea Fogs + + + +A change in the colour of the light usually called me in the morning. By +a certain hour, the long, vertical chinks in our western gable, where +the boards had shrunk and separated, flashed suddenly into my eyes as +stripes of dazzling blue, at once so dark and splendid that I used to +marvel how the qualities could be combined. At an earlier hour, the +heavens in that quarter were still quietly coloured, but the shoulder of +the mountain which shuts in the canyon already glowed with sunlight in a +wonderful compound of gold and rose and green; and this too would +kindle, although more mildly and with rainbow tints, the fissures of our +crazy gable. If I were sleeping heavily, it was the bold blue that +struck me awake; if more lightly, then I would come to myself in that +earlier and fairier light. + +One Sunday morning, about five, the first brightness called me. I rose +and turned to the east, not for my devotions, but for air. The night had +been very still. The little private gale that blew every evening in our +canyon, for ten minutes or perhaps a quarter of an hour, had swiftly +blown itself out; in the hours that followed, not a sigh of wind had +shaken the treetops; and our barrack, for all its breaches, was less +fresh that morning than of wont. But I had no sooner reached the window +than I forgot all else in the sight that met my eyes, and I made but two +bounds into my clothes, and down the crazy plank to the platform. + +The sun was still concealed below the opposite hilltops, though it was +shining already, not twenty feet above my head, on our own mountain +slope. But the scene, beyond a few near features, was entirely changed. +Napa Valley was gone; gone were all the lower slopes and woody foothills +of the range; and in their place, not a thousand feet below me, rolled a +great level ocean. It was as though I had gone to bed the night before, +safe in a nook of inland mountains and had awakened in a bay upon the +coast. I had seen these inundations from below; at Calistoga I had risen +and gone abroad in the early morning, coughing and sneezing, under +fathoms on fathoms of gray sea vapour, like a cloudy sky - a dull sight +for the artist, and a painful experience for the invalid. But to sit +aloft one's self in the pure air and under the unclouded dome of heaven, +and thus look down on the submergence of the valley, was strangely +different and even delightful to the eyes. Far away were hilltops like +little islands. Nearer, a smoky surf beat about the foot of precipices +and poured into all the coves of these rough mountains. The colour of +that fog ocean was a thing never to be forgotten. For an instant, among +the Hebrides and just about sundown, I have seen something like it on +the sea itself. But the white was not so opaline; nor was there, what +surprisingly increased the effect, that breathless crystal stillness +over all. Even in its gentlest moods the salt sea travails, moaning +among the weeds or lisping on the sand; but that vast fog ocean lay in a +trance of silence, nor did the sweet air of the morning tremble with a +sound. + +As I continued to sit upon the dump, I began to observe that this sea +was not so level as at first sight it appeared to be. Away in the +extreme south, a little hill of fog arose against the sky above the +general surface, and as it had already caught the sun it shone on the +horizon like the topsails of some giant ship. There were huge waves, +stationary, as it seemed, like waves in a frozen sea; and yet, as I +looked again, I was not sure but they were moving after all, with a slow +and august advance. And while I was yet doubting, a promontory of the +hills some four or five miles away, conspicuous by a bouquet of tall +pines, was in a single instant overtaken and swallowed up. It reappeared +in a little, with its pines, but this time as an islet and only to be +swallowed up once more and then for good. This set me looking nearer, +and I saw that in every cove along the line of mountains the fog was +being piled in higher and higher, as though by some wind that was +inaudible to me. I could trace its progress, one pine tree first growing +hazy and then disappearing after another; although sometimes there was +none of this forerunning haze, but the whole opaque white ocean gave a +start and swallowed a piece of mountain at a gulp. It was to flee these +poisonous fogs that I had left the seaboard, and climbed so high among +the mountains. And now, behold, here came the fog to besiege me in my +chosen altitudes, and yet came so beautifully that my first thought was +of welcome. + +The sun had now gotten much higher, and through all the gaps of the +hills it cast long bars of gold across that white ocean. An eagle, or +some other very great bird of the mountain, came wheeling over the +nearer pinetops, and hung, poised and something sideways, as if to look +abroad on that unwonted desolation, spying, perhaps with terror, for the +eyries of her comrades. Then, with a long cry, she disappeared again +toward Lake County and the clearer air. At length it seemed to me as if +the flood were beginning to subside. The old landmarks, by whose +disappearance I had measured its advance, here a crag, there a brave +pine tree, now began, in the inverse order, to make their reappearance +into daylight. I judged all danger of the fog was over. This was not +Noah's flood; it was but a morning spring, and would now drift out +seaward whence it came. So, mightily relieved, and a good deal +exhilarated by the sight, I went into the house to light the fire. + +I suppose it was nearly seven when I once more mounted the platform to +look abroad. The fog ocean had swelled up enormously since last I saw +it; and a few hundred feet below me, in the deep gap where the Toll +House stands and the road runs through into Lake County, it had already +topped the slope, and was pouring over and down the other side like +driving smoke. The wind had climbed along with it; and though I was +still in calm air, I could see the trees tossing below me, and their +long, strident sighing mounted to me where I stood. + +Half an hour later, the fog had surmounted all the ridge on the opposite +side of the gap, though a shoulder of the mountain still warded it out +of our canyon. Napa Valley and its bounding hills were now utterly +blotted out. The fog, sunny white in the sunshine, was pouring over into +Lake County in a huge, ragged cataract, tossing treetops appearing and +disappearing in the spray. The air struck with a little chill, and set +me coughing. It smelt strong of the fog, like the smell of a +washing-house, but with a shrewd tang of the sea-salt. + +Had it not been for two things - the sheltering spur which answered as a +dyke, and the great valley on the other side which rapidly engulfed +whatever mounted - our own little platform in the canyon must have been +already buried a hundred feet in salt and poisonous air. As it was, the +interest of the scene entirely occupied our minds. We were set just out +of the wind, and but just above the fog; we could listen to the voice of +the one as to music on the stage; we could plunge our eyes down into the +other, as into some flowing stream from over the parapet of a bridge; +thus we looked on upon a strange, impetuous, silent, shifting exhibition +of the powers of nature, and saw the familiar landscape changing from +moment to moment like figures in a dream. + +The imagination loves to trifle with what is not. Had this been indeed +the deluge, I should have felt more strongly, but the emotion would have +been similar in kind. I played with the idea as the child flees in +delighted terror from the creations of his fancy. The look of the thing +helped me. And when at last I began to flee up the mountain, it was +indeed partly to escape from the raw air that kept me coughing, but it +was also part in play. + +As I ascended the mountainside, I came once more to overlook the upper +surface of the fog; but it wore a different appearance from what I had +beheld at daybreak. For, first, the sun now fell on it from high +overhead, and its surface shone and undulated like a great nor'land moor +country, sheeted with untrodden morning snow. And, next, the new level +must have been a thousand or fifteen hundred feet higher than the old, +so that only five or six points of all the broken country below me still +stood out. Napa Valley was now one with Sonoma on the west. On the +hither side, only a thin scattered fringe of bluffs was unsubmerged; and +through all the gaps the fog was pouring over, like an ocean into the +blue clear sunny country on the east. There it was soon lost; for it +fell instantly into the bottom of the valleys, following the watershed; +and the hilltops in that quarter were still clear cut upon the eastern +sky. + +Through the Toll House gap and over the near ridges on the other side, +the deluge was immense. A spray of thin vapour was thrown high above it, +rising and falling, and blown into fantastic shapes. The speed of its +course was like a mountain torrent. Here and there a few treetops were +discovered and then whelmed again; and for one second, the bough of a +dead pine beckoned out of the spray like the arm of a drowning man. But +still the imagination was dissatisfied, still the ear waited for +something more. Had this indeed been water (as it seemed so, to the +eye), with what a plunge of reverberating thunder would it have rolled +upon its course, disembowelling mountains and deracinating pines And yet +water it was and sea-water at that - true Pacific billows, only somewhat +rarefied, rolling in mid-air among the hilltops. + +I climbed still higher, among the red rattling gravel and dwarf +underwood of Mount Saint Helena, until I could look right down upon +Silverado, and admire the favoured nook in which it lay. The sunny plain +of fog was several hundred feet higher; behind the protecting spur a +gigantic accumulation of cottony vapour threatened, with every second to +blow over and submerge our homestead; but the vortex setting past the +Toll House was too strong; and there lay our little platform, in the +arms of the deluge, but still enjoying its unbroken sunshine. About +eleven, however, thin spray came flying over the friendly buttress, and +I began to think the fog had hunted out its Jonah after all. But it was +the last effort. The wind veered while we were at dinner, and began to +blow squally from the mountain summit and by half-past one all that +world of sea fogs was utterly routed and flying here and there into the +south in little rags of cloud. And instead of a lone sea-beach, we found +ourselves once more inhabiting a high mountainside, with the clear green +country far below us, and the light smoke of Calistoga blowing in the +air. + +This was the great Russian campaign for that season. Now and then, in +the early morning, a little white lakelet of fog would be seen far down +in Napa Valley but the heights were not again assailed, nor was the +surrounding world again shut off from Silverado. + + + +Here Ends No. One the Western Classics Being The Sea Fogs by Robert +Louis Stevenson With an Introduction by Thomas Rutherford Bacon & A +Photogravure Frontispiece After A Painting by Albertine Randall Wheelan +of this First Edition One Thousand Copies Have Been Issued Printed Upon +Fabriano Handmade Paper the Typography Designed by J. H. Nash Published +by Paul Elder and Company & Done Into A Book for Them at the Tomoye +Press in the City of New York MCMVII + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE SEA FOGS *** + +This file should be named seafo10.txt or seafo10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, seafo11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, seafo10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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