Five years had passed since that dreadful morning when Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson — ‘Fanny’ — got a telegram while working in her garden near the village of Hyres, France, within sight of the Mediterranean Sea. It was in January, 1884. Against her better judgment, Fanny had silently stood by while her invalid husband, not yet even close to fame, went off on a fling with two of his best friends — William Ernest Henley and Charles Baxter. They had come down from London to visit and it is widely supposed that they wanted to get their friend away from the oversight of Fanny because, to them, she was a party-pooper who spoiled the fun because she loved her husband and wanted to keep him alive as long as possible. Her daughter, Belle, said as much in her book “This Life I’ve Loved”:

“Fanny Osbourne married Louis not expecting that he would live but hoping by her devotion to prolong this life now so dear to her.”

Fanny believed that her husband’s friends were too cavalier about his less than robust health and she was right. And so it was with apprehension that Fanny watched the trio of friends set off for Nice on Jan. 12, but not without stopping at Monaco, Monte Carlo and Menton along the way. Their road trip finally ended in a nice hotel in Nice and in the morning, Henley and Baxter returned to England, leaving Louis at the hotel all alone when all the excitement of the reunion with his friends caught up with him. That was the subject of the telegram Fanny got in her garden. It was from the hotel management advising Fanny that they think the man dying in their hotel is her husband and could she make arrangements to remove the body.

Fanny had to move fast but she saved him again. This time, unfortunately, his collapse was the beginning of a prolonged period of worse than usual bad health for Louis, from which he would have no relief until he came to Saranac Lake, in October 1887, just read his letters. Most of the time in between, he was living in Skerryvore, his house, in Bournemouth, England, with a view of the English Channel. There, his acute invalidism forced him to live, he said, “like a weevil in a biscuit.” It was at Skerryvore that RLS wrote “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” published in January 1886.

“Jekyll and Hyde” and “Treasure Island” had made Robert Louis Stevenson a household name by the time he came to Saranac Lake. We can only imagine the weight falling off of Fanny’s shoulders when she met with Dr. Edward Livingston Trudeau and learned that the best physician she could hope to get anywhere lived just a few minutes away from her patient — now his patient. Since the disaster at Nice, Fanny was always on high alert, never went far from Louis, and insisted on chaperoning every visit from friends, no exceptions. The isolation of Saranac Lake and the privacy of Baker’s combined with the nearness of Dr. Trudeau, finally enabled Fanny to live her own life again and go on long trips to see people she hadn’t seen in over seven years, ever since their marriage in 1880. In March 1880, Fanny left Baker’s for the last time when she went to California to see her sister, Mrs. Nellie Sanchez. It was on that trip that Fanny found and retained the 70-ton schooner yacht Casco in San Francisco, to make her husband’s daydream come true.

Skip ahead about a year and we find Robert Louis Stevenson and family living that dream by living on the beach in Waikiki, Hawaii. Belle and Joe Strong were living in nearby Honolulu and made weekly visits to the beach with their son, Austin, 7.

The title of chapter 28 of Belle’s book is “Waikiki”:

“Louis who had lived so long a shut-in-invalid ‘like a weevil in a biscuit’ as he put it, reveled in the good health that permitted him to go about freely and receive as many guests as he liked, often asking three or four to stay on for dinner … Louis’ guests always stayed on till my mother broke up the party. It was marvelous the way she managed to protect and defend Louis without his knowing it. He hated being fussed over. A cooing, sympathetic person offering to put a pillow behind his head would enrage him, but he was never conscious of his wife’s vigilance. At the first sign of fatigue on his face, the guests departed in spite of Louis’ entreaties to stay. They didn’t know they were being sent home, but nevertheless they went.

“She protected him from drafts, colds, bores and fatigue. With a glance she would direct Lloyd (Osbourne, Belle’s brother) to shut a window or throw a cape over Louis’ shoulders, and nobody was allowed near him who was suffering with a cold — an ailment which was not then recognized as catching. More than once she shut the door against an attending doctor who, sniffling and sneezing, would declare there was no danger of contagion whatever.” (Science would soon validate Fanny’s theory and practice.)

“When they were in Saranac (Lake) the Fairchilds, who were great friends and admirers of Louis’, came in a private car to visit him, all of them with colds. My mother refused them admittance till they were completely cured. They good-naturedly obeyed her, and when they were well, proved it by standing in a row outside Louis’ window, holding up perfectly clean handkerchiefs.

“Louis and King Kalakaua became very good friends and had many talks together. The King was deeply interested in hearing about Louis’ travels in the South Seas, then very little known, and in return told him fascinating stories of his own islands and their ancient history. It was Kalakaua who encouraged Louis to study Hawaiian, recommending a teacher who came several times a week.

“Louis and the family entertained Kalakaua on the Casco before it was sent home to San Francisco, and in return they were all asked to a breakfast at Iolani Palace at half past eight in the morning. That was the time Aunt Maggie (Margaret, Stevenson’s mother) distinguished herself by remarking, when the King asked her how she liked the music of the Royal Hawaiian Band (the pride of his heart), that it was very nice and didn’t disturb her in the least.”

“Henry Poor lent Louis his house at Waikiki and, with the help and advice of Mrs. Bush, the family gave a grand luau (native feast) in the Hawaiian fashion to Kalakaua and his sister, the Princess Liliuokalani. It was at this party that Louis presented the King with a large golden pearl, still adhering to its delicate shell, with a poem which he read aloud:

TO KALAKAUA

(with the gift of a pearl)

The Silver Ship, my King–that was her name

In the bright islands whence your fathers came —

The Silver Ship, at rest from winds and tides,

Below your palace in your harbour rides:

And the seafarers, sitting safe on shore,

Like eager merchants count their treasures o’er.

One gift they find, one strange and lovely thing,

Now doubly precious since it pleased a king.

The right, my liege, is ancient as the lyre.

For bards to give to kings what kings admire.

‘Tis mine to offer for Apollo’s sake;

And since the gift is fitting, yours to take.

To golden hands the golden pearl I bring:

The ocean jewel to the island king.

— From “Songs of Travel and Other Verses,” Robert Louis Stevenson