Chapter 71 p. 2: Letters to Etienne

To Mr. Etienne Prieur, at the Grand Seminary of Noyon, department of the Somme.

Paris, May 30, 1818. 

Sir,

You tell me, in your letter of the 24th of this month, that you are neither a sorcerer nor a magician. Who then persecuted and pursued me from October 24, 1817 until February 1, 1818, the time at which you left the Mazarin Hotel? Why didn’t you send me any news, or give me your address? You had promised to come and see me, and deliver me from all my troubles. Have you kept your word?  No, you deceived me when you left, and the kiss you gave me was that of Judas. Like him, you are a traitor. 

I believe you have visited me since that time; but not as a friend. You came to torment me invisibly, night and day.  But despite that, you’ve embraced the ecclesiastical path:  I congratulate you, and I must forgive you. No doubt you’ve embraced this state only after renouncing Satan, and all his power and works, to serve a better master. Ah! From now on I will see you only as my friend, and if I cannot see you, I hope you will write me, so that you can tell me everything I need to know. 

I wish you happiness in your new state, and every kind of satisfaction for you and your relatives. Please know that I am praying for you, in this regard, I forget neither my friends nor my enemy. 

Signed,

M.B.

 

[1] Department of the Somme: “Department” in this case refers to french land management departments, between towns/cities (technically “communes” and the larger regional areas.  Each has its own counsel. In 1818 they were a fairly recent development, created in 1890. Somme is one of the northernmost departments. I haven’t found any information on the seminary. 

 

To Mr. Etienne Prieur, at the Grand Seminary of Noyon, department of the Somme.

June 23,1818

Sir,

I am awaiting a reply to the letter I sent last May 23. Your reply was all the more urgent because I’d hoped to know which of you I belonged to, or possibly the notary, Mr. Arloin. Perhaps it would be Papon Lomini, your cousin? I’d complained about you to him; about your failure to keep your promises to me, to snatch me from the hands of Moreau and Pinel, away from their constant, annoying visits, while you still continued yours. Pinel said that, as a member of the clergy, [1] you were no longer allowed to practice magic, and that you had entrusted your powers to him and to a lawyer. To do evil, or to order someone to do evil…is it not the same thing? However, the religion you profess forbids you to do either. In any case, I only want to deal with you, because I cannot expect relief from anyone else. 

Regarding the letters I sent you when you were in Amiens, I shared a copy of them with your cousin. He found my message so just, so appropriate, that he asked me to give them to your father, who he was to visit when he was on vacation. 

I communicated to Monsieur your cousin the copy of the letters that I addressed to you in Amiens; he found the moral so just, that he asked me to give them to him to show to Monsieur your father, whom he was to see during the next vacation.

And I’m sure you will find it appropriate that, in entrusting your cousin with a copy of these letters, I also confided in him your treatment of me since October 24, 1817. Please let me know your thoughts on the matter, don’t leave me in this cruel suspense. You’ve never worried about bringing torment and unhappiness to my life. I’m sure you’ll respect my moderation, prudence, and caution in my dealings here. But I tell you now: Break your word again, and I will no longer bother you, and instead, will be speaking to your superior, and any change in my respectful tone will be one that your conduct has forced upon me. 

Let me add here, I recently met your cousin Lomini, when I was walking in Luxembourg. He was carrying with him a book of magic, and he was kind enough to share several passages with me. I was well aware of your powers over me, especially your power to torment me, but I saw there that you had the power to cure me, as you so often promised to do, promises you had never kept, and that you could put me under the power of another. 

But what does it matter if I belong to Peter or Paul, if it frees you from fulfilling your commitments to me? Will I be better off if you put me in someone else’s power, or you relinquish your control to someone else? If you are to keep your promises, you must not only resign ALL of your infernal positions, but also, do not pass them along to another master. Whatever arrangements you have made with the people to whom you have entrusted me, I can only recognize you as my possessor. 

I await your reply. In fact, I’ve already paid the postage for it. [2]

M.B.

 

[1] Some translation problems here, the language is “que votre qualité d’abbé ne vous permettait plus d’exercer la magie”, which seems to say “Pinel informs me that in your position as abbot,” the head of an abbey of monks, which seems out of line for a seminary dropout like Etienne. I think it should be “I see you’re attending the abbey/seminary.” Or M.B. is fabricating something about Etienne’s position. Here I said “as a member of the clergy” to avoid committing to Etienne having this role now, or specifically, the role of abbot. Any help with this passage appreciated. 

[2] See Etienne’s earlier response May 18, in which he tells M.B. he can’t afford the postage for a reply. M.B. hasn’t arranged his letters/responses chronologically. 

 

To Mr. Etienne Prieur, Amiens Seminary

June 27, 1818. 

Sir,

I received your letter of the 25th of this month. I will not attempt to hide my surprise at your conduct toward me, nor the conduct you displayed from October 24, 1817, until February 1, 1818. 

You appear singularly astonished at my position, which you blame on external causes. Apparently you do not remember the details you gave me, which related to the magical methods of Moreau and Pinel, of the woman Vandeval, as well as of the physicists of Avignon. At the time, you were convinced how little I deserved the torments that the doctor of the Salpétrière made me endure, night and day; You did not hesitate to use your society’s ceremonies to remove me from his hands. You struck my knife into the wood, crying, “Ah! you rascal Pinel, may the devil wash your face!” Then you turned to me and said,”He is suffering now, the rascal!” [1]

Did you not go on to tell people, while I was listening, that I was no longer in the power of this wicked man, that you had wrested me from his hands, no matter how stubbornly he wanted to hold me, and that I was now under your control, if only so that you could now give me my freedom? 

And then, did you not say, with all these witnesses, that it was essential that you follow me everywhere–to the church, along the promenade, secretly entering my house, day and night, to torment me? And when they said they saw no need for all that, did you not then say that it would take you some time to give me my peace and freedom? 

What other proof do you want? Did you not give your cousin, Papon Lomini, power over me, which he would then abuse, and when I complained, you threatened to take them away? Clearly you are a magician. You allowed all these atrocities, to the point where your friends, who had witnessed them, had to speak, had to force you to take those powers away from him. 

And now, joining the  Seminary of Amiens, you can no longer serve two masters at once. You have doubtless abandoned the devil to serve only God (and I congratulate you on it!) But II repeat to you, whether I am in the power of Mr. Lomini, or someone else, I still suffer. I will only deal with you: no one but you can give me remedy for my ills. Perhaps your cousin, instead of occupying himself with magic, could undertake the studies to someday become a lawyer? You’ve done him no favors by distracting him from that path, from an honorable and useful career.  By introducing him to the dreadful mysteries of your world, you’ve done him a terrible injury.

Your friend, Mr. Frontin, whom I see sometimes, who I have not left ignorant of the suffering you’ve made me endure–did he not tell you this was unworthy of a young man from a good family, raised to have good principles, and today, seems to have returned to his family, but denying those same principles? did he not tell you that this was unworthy of a young man of family, who is supposed to have received good principles, and who today seem to have returned to them only to deny their reality? But this religion that you seem to have embraced, will always be incompatible with your conduct; if you do not sincerely preach its rigid doctrine, it will reject you from its bosom.

As long as you persist in holding me under your infernal power, I must continue to speak to you in this way. You cannot pretend to speak for the church, while in your soul you do still belong to Satan.

You have commended yourself to my prayers,  as well you should. I do not forget you, I pray God constantly to bring you back to yourself, and to forgive you.

I await your reply, my friend, and I hope it will be more satisfactory than the previous ones.

Yours,

M.B.

 

[1] “que le diable te débarbouille!” Doesn’t appear to be a common idiom, but basically, “may the devil take you!” 

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abbey_of_Saint-Acheul 

 

To Mr. Etienne Prieur, Amiens Seminary

July 9, 1818. 

Sir,

I have just received your letter, dated July 7.  You acknowledge receiving my last letter, without mentioning those I had previously sent you.  I note that you have not mentioned nor replied to the earlier ones.

How can you treat the evils which you know I have been the victim of for twenty-three years as mere chimeras?  You had always before regarded them as evils created by humans. Today, you want them to be products of the imagination, which grandfather time will erase. Do you, sir, believe that I have completely lost my mind, that I cannot think and reason? If my sufferings are of my imagination, any remedy you have will be fruitless. If my torment is real, why do you now tell me that it is a fiction? If the latter, only God can cure me. If the former, you are, clearly, guilty of not delivering me from my prosecutors, as per the promise you have so often made to me before. 

You still want to persuade me that your cousin, Papon Lomini, never had any power over me. If that is what you want me to believe, where did all these cruel torments come from, in your absence? Answer me all these questions. I need to know this. Why did you not write out the names of Pinel, Madame Vandeval, and Moreau in full? Why only include their initials, as you did with your signature? Why all this circumspection?

Please, I beg you, answer me. 

I await the pleasure of seeing you again.

Your affectionate servant,

M.B.

To Mr. Etienne Prieur, Amiens Seminary

May 19, 1818

Dear sir, 

Allow me to tell you what a wonderful surprise it was when your brother Baptiste informed me that you had entered the seminary, with the intention of embracing the priesthood. This is very good, if God has truly called you to it.  But how did you suddenly decide one day to become minister of the Most High, when, in different conversations that we have had together, I have noticed in you a pattern of thought which seems quite contrary to the principles that guide you today, and in a direction quite different from the steps you have just taken? You seemed then not to want to recognize the visible head of the Church, nor the ministers who serve it, because you said there should be no intermediary between God and men; and you now recognize the necessity of one. Where did such a swift change come from?  I congratulate you, if this change was an inspiration of the omnipotent force which never ceases to watch over our salvation, and not driven by some human consideration. You have submitted yourself to a power quite opposed to that under which you had the misfortune to fall, since you were once under the power of a demon. The magic that you exercised, all your occult procedures, and finally all the work that you have done on me, prove what I am saying.

You will therefore not be able today to serve two masters so opposed to each other; you will not want to imitate Father Imbert and Father Cazin, who you told me had been dealing with magic, as many of your friends also hear you say. But  let me return to the extraordinary change that has just taken place in you. Was it of your own free will that you embraced this new vocation? Could it be to obey the wishes of your father? His intentions were undoubtedly not to force you into the priesthood, as there are unfortunately so many examples of that. God asks only purity of heart in his ministers, and it is a great misfortune for those who do not have it; it would have been better for them to be honest artisans in the world than to be bad priests.

Consider what your regrets would be, at the last judgment, if you were not truly called. And those of your father.

You will allow me, before finishing my letter, to make a few pointed comments to you. You left here without saying goodbye to me, without even telling me that you would leave, and you’d promised me your address, which I needed to conclude everything which concerns me. I do not know what to think on this, particularly since you come to torment me, both day and night. And today, you have embraced the ecclesiastical state. Would you serve two masters at once? Explain yourself, I beg you. I cannot conceive how you have entirely renounced the first, by throwing yourself into the arms of your creator, who you must obey alone, and from which comes the happiness you will await in this world and the next, if all the while you cling to the power of the devil and the misfortunes he brings. 

I greet you, and I await your reply, and my freedom,

M.B. 

 

Letter from Etienne Prieur

May 24, 1818 (?)

Sir,

I received your letter on the 19th of the month. Among the excellent advice you give me, I see with some sadness that that there are aspects of personality unworthy of a good Christian. However, out of my respect for you, I will give you an account of my conduct. 

I came to the Seminary of Amiens not to strive for a new vocation, but to enter the faith under the care of a good shepherd. [1] If I will not have the happiness of becoming a priest, at least I will be faithful. As you know, our lord came to save the sinner Magdalen, the Samaritan woman who had five husbands, the publican, the bad thief, and myself as well, who is the least of these. 

I came to the Seminary of Amiens, not to try my vocation, but to enter under the guidance of the good shepherd; and if I do not have the happiness of becoming a priest, I will at least be a religious. Our Lord, as you know, Sir, came to save the sinner Madeleine, the Samaritan woman who had had five husbands, the publican, the bad thief, and for me who am worth much less. Do not be surprised if, tired of a wandering, pointless life, I came to expose my misery to the doctor who raised Lazarus, who healed the leper and restored sight and hearing and speech to those who were deprived of them. Like the woman of Jerusalem, I wanted to touch the robe of the divine master, to be healed of my wounds; like the paralytic, I cried out in the distress in which I found myself: “Son of David, have pity on me.” Our Lord, touched, no doubt, by my extreme desire to serve him, has made me return to the fold. Many times, dear sir, I have scandalized you; but Saint Peter, who is a very great Saint, denied his God. Could I not hope, poor sinner that I am, to find in your eyes some measure of pardon for my inconsistencies? 

I ask your pardon for the mistakes I have made in your presence. I apologize for my past conduct. I am neither a sorcerer nor tempted by the devil, neither have I had, nor wish to have, any sort of relationship with the dark seducer of souls. Leave him in his hell, and rid yourself of all these ideas of spells, possession, and magic, which can only be an obstacle to your eternal salvation.  

Your letter cost 16 sols; I am not rich, I am not in a position to receive other letters. So, dear sir, although you honor me greatly by writing to me, I can see no way of my being useful to you, and invite you to refrain from writing me further. I commend myself to your prayers, which cannot fail to be pleasing to the Lord. Please do not share my address, I must emphasize the importance of this. [2]

Etienne †

Grand Seminary of Amiens, suburb of Noyon, department of the Somme.

 

[Note: This letter is peppered with “monsieur,” which translates directly as “sir”, but that doesn’t really capture the friendly formality of the word. It slots in where you might have chosen to use someone’s name, but with a bit more polish, and in English “sir” feels cold. This letter should perhaps be more formal, more polite, and perhaps more guarded as well.]

[1] the wording is perhaps intentionally ambiguous, and could mean “under the care of the good shepherd,” or “under the care of a priest.” 

[2] 1 franc is worth about $4.50 give or take, 20 sols to the franc, so the privilege of writing Berbiguier back is worth about $3.50. Not that this sort of conversion is ever entirely meaningful.

 

Letter from Etienne Prieur

June 25, 1818 

Dear Sir,

I received your letter. I see with sorrow you are in the same state. Your illness is very distressing. You believe yourself tormented, and in this you are correct. The weakening of your nerves produces your chimeras. 

You have convinced yourself that I am a sorcerer, and from that you conclude that I am invisible. My cousin is wrong, very wrong indeed, to exasperate your imagination with ridiculous childish quotations. He should be ashamed to show you a book of magic. He abuses your credulity. You must stop believing that I come to your house at night. Like you, I am a man of flesh and blood. And I am some 100 miles away. How could I possibly transport myself to your house every night to dance on your body? 

Take baths, eat well but in moderation, drink good wine, walk in holy places, continue to serve God as you have always done, and these strange ideas will pass, your health will become better and you will experience perfect tranquility. You will no longer believe in spells or supernatural invasions from a man who wishes you well, respects you infinitely, and has the honor of being,

Your very humble servant,

Etienne P

I commend myself to your prayers.

 

Letter from Etienne Prieur

Amiens, July 7, 1818.

Sir,

I received your last letter with satisfaction. You appear much better, your mind is calmer and your health better; with time and patience we will succeed in uprooting from your imagination all these disastrous fantasies that have been plaguing you for more than twenty-three years.

Mr. Lomini has never had any real power over you, and at present he has none; he is clearly abusing you, trying to persuade you that he can do something to heal you, but he would do better to heal himself first, and get rid of his secret obsessions which gnaw at him night and day like a worm. Rest assured, you should expect nothing from him. 

You are tormented by a desire to be cured. You have given no breathing space to people like P, Van, and M, who have taken you into their care, happy to work toward your recovery.

I’ll see you before a month. I’ll give you the address of our house, and you can come to see me there, and I can affect your recovery more quickly. Do not forget me before the Blessed Virgin when you go to Saint-Roch in the evening. 

With respect and consideration,

Etienne.

 

Letter from Etienne Prieur

September 23, 1818.

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. [1].

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

[1] Charenton is an asylum founded in 1645. As recently as 1814 it was the home of the Marquis de Sade. 

Amusing if not perfectly relevant, in this article about mental asylums in Paris, they show an illustration of the front of another asylum, with its front door labeled as “The Goblin Gate.” 

 

Letter from Etienne Prieur

(Undated. October 1, 1818?) 

Sir,

I received your letter written on September 8 last month. You’re still making the same accusations and complaints.  I want to speak to you and your letter. Come on Wednesday, around two or three o’clock, to the Luxembourg Gardens, near the Chartreaux Gardens. I will be waiting for you there.

With great respect,

Etienne Prieur. 

 

Letter from Etienne Prieur

Thursday, October 22, 1818

My father sent me a letter which mentions you. If you want me to tell you what it contains, I will wait for you tomorrow, Friday, October 23, at the Luxembourg Gardens, in the alley leading to the parapet of the Carthusian enclosure, from one o’clock in the afternoon until three o’clock. 

Respectfully,

Etienne Prieur.