To Mr. Prieur [father of the Prieur brothers]

October 3, 1818. 

Dear Sir,

I took the liberty of writing to you on September 8 last, regarding the troubles that Mr. Etienne Prieur, one of your sons, has been causing me for over a year. I must assume that you informed him of my letter, speaking to him sternly, as a good father has the right to do to a son who’s drifted away from the good principles to which he was raised

This young man, without making any attempt to repair his various injuries to me, wrote me an undated note, inviting me to meet on September 22, at the Luxembourg Gardens, saying he wanted to speak with me and deliver a letter. He did not make this appointment, and the following day, I received a second note from him: 

Most excellent Berbiguier, I saw you yesterday powdered, combed, and daubed, at the Palais-Royal, in the Bois Gallery. I recommend that you be wise and restrained in your actions, words, and expressions. I am returning your letter, it shows the poor state of your mind. If your parents saw it, they might disown you. It does not take much more, and much less, to have you put in Charenton.

I greet you, most excellent Berbiguier of Terre-Neuve du Thym.

This letter reached me without a signature or an address. It seemed like some kind of cruel joke, one I didn’t wish to respond to, so I wrote a letter to your eldest son, to let my feelings be known and at the same time told him why I felt compelled me to write to you. He did not write me, but he came into my home that same day, September 28, at 9:40 PM, wanting to prove to me, as he had done February 20th and 23rd, 1819 [1], that he, as well as his brother and cousin, was initiated into their magical society. 

The eldest brother, to whom I went on February 21 of last year to complain of the ills I received and continual harassment from his brother Etienne, promised me to use all his means to get me out of his brother’s hands. This did not prevent him, on the same day, February 21st and 23rd, from entering my house invisibly, announcing himself with an infernal noise that would frighten the bravest man. He made me feel the influence of a planet, by blowing the most horrible wind on me and causing torrential rain to fall, breaking several of the hotel’s window panes. From this, I guessed that I had just changed masters, and was at the mercy of several monsters, fighting for the barbaric pleasure of tyrannizing me, contesting to become my master. On September 28, Etienne visited me in the evening, making the same kind of terrible noise.  I was not afraid to call him by name, which disconcerted him, he had not believed that I could recognize his work. He decided to withdraw and give me a bit of rest. 

The next morning, I noticed that the fur of my unfortunate squirrel had been shaved off his back. Not content with this, toward the end of 1817, during one of his secret visits he cut the tip of the tail from this beautiful animal, using some kind of cord. He knew I was very attached to this squirrel, I had raised it myself, and when I asked him about it, he replied that he had done this because this beautiful tail handmade him too handsome. 

This is how these gentlemen amuse themselves. And they also find pleasure in breaking my gold repeater watch, so that I can no longer make it work, even after the frequent repairs I have made by the watchsmith. [2]  And my gold-plated tortoiseshell snuffbox is completely damaged by their magical touch, and the goblins have moved the pins and other objects I use to oppose their operations. 

I often find dirty things in my food and drink. 

Finally, these wretches are constantly with me at church, to distract me from my prayers, and when I walk, to harass me. Papon Lomini and Mr. Arloin, who are both staying at the Mazarine, continually pay me their demonic visits. 

Finally, these wretches are constantly near me at church, to distract me in my prayers; when walking, to worry me. M. Papon Lopiini, accompanied by M. Arloin, both tenants of the Mazarin hotel, where I am lodged, never cease to pay me diabolical visits.

Once, when they seemed especially cheerful, I said to them, “you really must have something to laugh about. When I was walking through the Royal Palace yesterday evening, in one of the Bois galleries, my snuffbox was taken from me. Fortunately, it wasn’t my gold snuffbox. I felt the movement at my side, but there was no one there.” The gentlemen did not stop laughing, but told me that my snuffbox would be returned to me. 

You can see how my patience is wearing thin, and what a frustrating situation I find myself in. 

I hope that you will consider discussing this with your sons, so that they may give me the peace of mind I have been demanding from them for so long. I look forward to your reply.

Respectfully,

M.B. 

[1] From context, this should be 1817, but it was recorded as 1819 here

[2] A repeater watch will chime the hour and the quarter-hour, and possibly the eighth-hour, at the press of a button.