On the 20th of September, a month before he died, in his diary he writes, "I feel too well," and another paragraph, "The house covered with swallows;" and then he says that night, "Sat on balcony—perfect evening, perfect day." He was then taking papaine for his gout.
On the 27th we had gentle earthquakes late at night, but which were prolonged till dawn.
In October he complains of liver and biliousness in his journal, but remarks that his cure was working well.
On the 15th of October we paid together our official visit to the Governor and his wife, and we had friends to breakfast at the Hôtel de la Ville, where he was very gay. He was not very well in the evening, but nothing particular, and a glass of hot brandy and water seemed to set him quite right. I had begun partly to dismantle the house, and to put away things to make it easier for packing on return, in order to hurry matters when we came back, previous to leaving for good. We were going to start on the 15th of November for Greece and Constantinople, and we were already sorting out what we would take, having our saddlery looked to, and writing letters to the Ministers of these countries to ask their advice on certain points, and getting letters of introduction.
On the 18th of October, Dr. Baker photographed us in the garden. Richard was always better when he first got home, and then got tired of it after. When he first arrived, 8th of September, he only weighed 70 kilos, but by the 2nd of October he had increased to 72.5 kilos.
On the 18th of October he was a little inclined to gout, and complained that he had no pleasure in walking.
On the 19th (the day before he died) he complains of a little lumbago.
[1] In the same way, a house near us had a large monkey in a little room with bars just above ground, and the boys used to poke at him with sticks, and shy pebbles at him. I would go over to him with fruit and cake, and Richard used to say to him, "What crime did you commit in some other world, Jocko, that you are caged for now, and tormented, and going through your purgatory?" And he would walk off muttering, "I wonder what he did—I wonder what he did?"