Chapter 71 p. 3: Letters to Lomini

To Papon Lomini, Law student, Hôtel d’Anjou, rue Serpente, Paris

June 21, 1818.[1]

Dear Sir,

I wrote to Mr. Etienne Prieur,  your cousin, on the 30th of last month.

I have not yet received a reply from this young man, which worries me greatly. I need to tell you this because I must find out whether, after his decision to enter a seminary, he has abandoned the rights he had over me, or other people you know. Etienne was in the habit of returning the letters I sent him through the mail, he has them blocked by power of attorney. [2] That’s why I haven’t been receiving replies from him, particularly not the letter I sent 13 days ago. [3]

When I had the pleasure of meeting you in the Luxembourg Gardens, eight or ten days ago, the conversation turned to  Etienne. You seemed to blamed him for leaving without saying goodbye. And you seemed surprised by the way he behaved toward me, telling me had the means to cure me and restore my freedom. But I do not know what those means would have been. I beg you, sir, tell me what they are, so that I can write to Etienne and tell him to end his dealings with me. 

Based on our conversation, I’m sure that you and Etienne are in communication. Please send me his address in your reply, assuming he’s changed his address. If he doesn’t respond to me, I don’t know how to address my letters so that they can reach him safely. 

If you recall, you had a book that day, and you were kind enough to read passages to me, with some talk of powers of magic, how to rise in rank, how spirits possess and how they are exorcised, how to give powers to another man or take them away, all to the satisfaction of this infernal society. I only ask for this information to give them to your cousin, so that this society will cease their torments of me. Everything he said binds him to this promise, God, religion, and the holy vow he has taken on. 

Thank you for your consideration,

M.B. 

P.S.: Your cousin’s daily harassment and nightly visits are very taxing for me.

 

To Papon Lomini, Law student, Hôtel d’Anjou, rue Serpente. Paris

June 16, 1818

Sir,

I had taken pleasure in sending you a letter on the 11th of this month, concerning Mr. Etienne Prieur, your cousin, and in the hope of having a reply from you; but rather than answering me, you thought it was necessary to visit my house. While it was a pleasure to see you, I do not think my needs were met in this conversation, which even two words from your hand would have fulfilled.

You say that your cousin is a man incapable of causing me grief, and that his character as a seminarian puts him above any accusation of having made a pact with the devil, and that my ideas about this young man were outrageous; so much so that these letters could be used as evidence against me in court. 

I replied that I was suffering intensely, and the only source I could see for my suffering was Etienne, who had been my last master, who left me without warning, and who had constantly broken his word to me. Without any explanation from him, I couldn’t point the finger at anyone else, nor could I learn who he had entrusted myself to, when he left this world to devote his days to God. And I do admire this in him, and congratulate him for it. 

You led me to understand that you had assumed responsibility for this matter. If that is the case, why do you always leave me like this without giving me peace? What are your reasons for delaying my recovery for so long? Please, tell me. I am tired, I need to see an end to my suffering.

You also spoke to me of Mr. Arloin, as having powers over me. You told me that those that your cousin had given you were only temporary, and that he could, although a priest, take them away from you whenever he pleased; that he even kept some that were particular to him.

And now, you tell me that your cousin, Baptiste Prieur, also has power over me, so now almost the entire family is persecuting me. 

Dear lord! What have I done to be so unhappy? You come day and night, tormenting me. In your last visit you urge me to kill Coco, knowing how dear he is to me. [4] He’s harmless, he’s been my companion for two years, and you live far away from here, I’m on rue Mazarin, you on Rue Serpente. 

Remember also that you promised me to write to Mr. Etienne concerning me. I ask you to do so soon, if you haven’t already. And if that’s the case, please let me know his response. Otherwise, please write to him as soon as you can, otherwise I’ll be forced to send a third letter myself. I know a sure way to get it to him. 

Your servant,

M.B.

From Papon Lomini, undated

(June 17, 1818?)

Dear sir, 

Up to this point, I’d assumed your eccentricities were the result of your credulity relating to impossible things outside the realm of common sense, fed to you by a young man with very poor judgment. And unfortunately, your mind is so saturated with them that it would be impossible to bring you around to a more reasonable frame of mind. 

Therefore, I beg you, please stop writing to me. The postage costs are unnecessary. But more, I don’t want to be seen as a guilty party, accused of bringing harmful ideas into your home. Dismiss all these strange thoughts, I urge you.

Your respectful servant,

Papon Lomini.

P.S.: If you persist in writing to me, I will no longer receive your letters, and besides I am leaving the hotel.

To Papon Lomini, Law student, Hôtel d’Anjou, rue Serpente. Paris

June 18, 1818. 

Dear sir,

Perhaps you haven’t understood me. The tone of your writing is very different from what you have said.  Haven’t you very often taken my side, regarding the unworthy behavior of your cousin, Etienne Priur? How many times have you chided him, in front of myself and your friends, for his impertinence? Haven’t you urged him to leave me alone and give me back my life, and hasn’t he promised to do just that? 

That’s how you’ve always spoken, but now, not at all what you’ve written. Do you think that this subterfuge will make me forget your poor behavior toward me, or Etienne’s, who left Paris without telling me, so that I wouldn’t be able to find him in his retreat? No, none of this will fool me. 

You tell me this young man wants to devote himself to God, and, unable to serve two masters at once, he had abandoned some portion of his power to you, unwilling to part with that which his own. So why do you break the promise you made to me, to rescue me from this terrible predicament you constantly keep me in, one of you or the other? After all, I must belong either to you or to him. This morning, I had another visit from you, or some other member of your society. You and your friends must derive some great enjoyment from all this! And not content with tormenting me, you also make my poor Coco suffer. You are, truly, redefining wickedness. 

I don’t see any benefit to sending you a duplicate of the letters I wrote to Etienne, I’d hoped you’d show them to his father when the holiday takes you to Moulins. I don’t think it would lead to any conclusion that benefits you. Thinking back on your last letter, you’ve never spoken to me in this manner. Why the change in tone? You sang a different tune when I did some small favors for your cousin, and now, like you, he calls me crazy. How many other people could he have found who would have treated him like a friend. And now, you want to pass me off as crazy. 

Your servant, 

M.B. 

P.S. Based on your response, I’ll be moderating my conduct toward Etienne. I’ll write to him indirectly, if I must write to him. 

From Papon Lomini, 

March 26, 1819. 

Dear sir,

I am very deeply saddened by the distance you’ve kept from me since leaving Rue Mazarin. I cannot believe the feelings toward me now are those you have truly held for me. No, you have never known hatred. 

I’ve come to your house several times without finding you. Not knowing what time I might see you, and fearing I would only be disappointed, please let me meet you for a friendly lunch. 

Please don’t reject me here. I have experienced misfortunes I can only confide to a true friend, and I do consider you a friend. I know you will sympathize with my troubles. Jesus Christ, our divine master, told his disciples to do to others as we would have them do to us. I need your advice. Please don’t refuse me. I’ll meet you Sunday morning, nine o’clock. 

Please remember me in your prayers. And please bring Coco with her, so I can see her and give her a kiss. 

With the honor of writing you,

Papon Lomini, Rue des Fosses de M. le Prince, # 51.

[1] M.B. has said in his v1 Forward that he will not always relay information in chronological order, but his letters to Papon Lomini stand out in particular. Besides that M.B. typically orders these by conversation, then sender, then date, so all M.B’s letters to Lomini by date, then all the responses), there’s a certain chaos in his ordering and in the letters themselves. 

In v3ch71 they are published dated 6/21/1818, (p 336), then 6/18/1818 (p 338) (with undated reply from Lomini on p 340, suggesting that M.B. is mentally unwell and begging him to stop writing), then another letter to Lomini 6/18/1818, and with response dated 3/1819, where Lomini complains that M.B. has been distant and asks to see him again. It appears that Lomini drops communication with M.B. through at least October 2018. Given that M.B. is now writing regularly to Etienne’s parents, Lomini, who is studying to be a lawyer,  may be attempting some kind of damage control.

[2] The language here is “of stopping the letters I receive through the mail”, and I’m going to use “return my letters” here, which may not be technically accurate but probably captures the feeling of it.  After a brief dive into the Parisian mail system, it sounds like within the main city of Paris mail could be sent for 2 sols (maybe $2.50?) and to the suburbs for 3 sols ($3.75?). 

(see also, History of the Post Office, Royal Philatelic Society of Austria, Christopher Hitchen), 

In 1760, mailboxes boxes were installed around Paris, and 150 postmen were hired. Post boxes could be found in shops and cafes, and at least in Paris proper, letters were picked up at the post box every hour and a half through the day, and mail was sent out three times a day. Postmen would stand outside houses with rattles or knock on doors. Since letters could be sent “postage due”, and postal workers would stamp their deliveries, it seems like postmen would need to act something like a courier, an active participant in communication rather than a simple deliveryman. 

[3] M.B. did not include a letter to Etienne dated around June 8-9 in the v3Ch71 documents collection, this will be updated if another letter turns up as I translate V1 & V2. – Jacob

[4] See “Thoughts on Coco“, which originated as a footnote to this letter