Chapter 71 p. 4: To the Senior Mr. Prieur:

At this point, having no satisfactory reply from the Prieur brothers, I decided to write to the Senior Mr. Prieur, in Moulins. Here is the letter that I wrote to him on September 8, 1818, which he returned to me through his son:

To Mr. Prieur

Paris, September 6, 1818. 

Dear Sir,

I take the liberty of writing to you, though you do not know me. I believe it necessary to inform you of all that your son Etienne Prieur has subjected me to. 

I met this young man at the Mazarine Hotel, in August 1817, where we were both staying. I appreciated the good principles that a strong education instills, and the love of religion that he showed inspired great confidence in me, so much so that we made regular visits to each other’s homes. 

I had many happy conversations with him during our walks, which drew me closer to him. He confided in me, I was touched by his troubles, he seemed to listen to the advice I gave him as if we were true friends. I saw in him youthful heedlessness more than a bad temper, and did whatever I could to bring him back to goodness. I even thought I had succeeded. 

And I felt it was my duty to share my sufferings with him, and he seemed to listen to them with interest, promising to soon lessen them, if he could not completely remove them.

And in those conversations I did not hide that I was, against my will, under the power of magicians, physicists, and sorcerers, who for several years tormented me day and night, even following me into the temple of the Lord, which pained me even more than when they came to disturb my sleep at night.

Your son was convinced that these were only scoundrels and rogues, wicked people who were tormenting me, and that he could take me under his protection and take me from the hands of these villains. By means of some significant operations against them, he would give me back my complete freedom. During the time he needed to prepare his operation, he introduced me to his brothers, and a Mr. Papon Lomini, their cousin. And they seemed to be well-bred young people, and I enjoyed seeing them quite often. 

However, I noticed that not all of them seemed to be following the same path. Perhaps they didn’t know how. We often went with your son on errands outside Paris, particularly to Mont-Valerian and the calvary, [1] wherever faith lead us, and he would always promise to pull me from the grasp of my enemies, and under various pretexts, he kept me in suspense until finally he left for the seminary of Amiens, a departure he took care to hide rom me. I asked for his brothers and his cousin to keep the promise he had made to restore my freedom, a promise which he had not yet fulfilled. And if I am no longer under the power of Pinel, Moreau, and the Vandeval woman, I have not ceased to be under his. 

None of these gentlemen deigned to reply to my letters. Even so, I had learned that Etienne was in Picary. I wrote him in vain; I had hoped for a response in September, the time when I thought he was on vacation, and when he had promised to come see me. 

As he did not make his promised visit, I took the liberty of writing two letters to the superior of the Seminary of Amiens. I learned that Etienne was no longer in that city, and there was some talk of him coming to Paris. I have no current knowledge of his whereabouts. As it may be that you had called him to you, I asked Baptiste if he could give me his address, so that I could remind him of his promises. He said that he had seen him, but did not know where Etienne was saying, that he would find out and let me know in writing. I am still waiting for this information, even after having asked him for it in a letter. I was no more fortunate with his brother, the pharmacist, or Papon Lomini. One replied in the negative, the other was silent. 

And so, you are my only recourse, and I hope that you will be kind enough to answer me. As his father, the natural authority you have over your son will surely oblige him to fulfill his promises to me and finally restore me to peace and freedom. 

With respect and the greatest consideration,

Your humble servant,

M.B.

By October 3, I still had not received a response, and so I wrote a letter to follow up: 

To Mr. Prieur

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 [2], 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. [3]  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. 

My impatience with the torment I was suffering did not allow me to wait long for his reply, and so I sent him the following letter, dated October 11, 1818. 

To Mr. Prieur

Dear sir, 

I do not know why you are still silent regarding the two letters I addressed to you, concerning your sons. I know that you forwarded my first to Etienne, and I have no doubt that you received my second, sent October 3rd of this year. What could be the cause of your silence? Surely, you cannot approve of the conduct of your young men toward me. 

These gentlemen, as well as Mr. Papon Lomini, showed me great ingratitude. They must not be unaware of the interest I took in them, and especially toward Etienne, when they were in the Mazarine Hotel. I have rendered the latter services which he should surely remember, and it is he that I have the most to complain of. Why do they enter my room invisibly, directing the power of a planet upon me, bringing the rain, the hail, and the snow? They make a terrible noise, move everything in my room, then come and sit next to me in my bed, bumping me, pushing me, hitting my head, and mistreating my squirrel, driving him to irritation with me and forcing me to mistreat him myself, making me pass for a wicked man, a madman as they had the insolence to say, and as I have already described to you in my last letter. 

Let me say to you now: I am neither mad nor wicked. They would doubtless like to have me become so, but the trust I have in God, and the prayers I address to him, will protect me from all these misfortunes, and one day, my enemies will be defeated. 

Do you remember the illness that Baptiste, one of your sons, suffered in 1817, which made him come to you, and how I urged him to return home? At the time, Etienne came to see me every day. One evening, when he was crying over his situation, I urged him to heed your advice, but he told me he would rather drown himself than obey your orders. Finally, finding himself with no other option, he yielded to my request, and wrote you to express his repentance. Can you see how ungrateful he is? Right this very moment, he is at my side to torment me. 

Please, I ask you, use all the authority you have as a father to force him to leave me alone, and I beg you to reply to my letters. 

With respect,

M.B.

[Note: An additional letter was written to Dr. Prieur on 10/28/1818, mentioned in v1ch55 but not recorded: “I let Dr. Prieur know that his son, who I had often supported, owed me a debt of gratitude, and his brothers, his cousin Lomini, the Arloins, all of them thought that Etienne’s actions were beneath him. I wouldn’t write if I had been treated with more dignity.” Astonished that Dr. Prieur did not respond, M.B. writes to the mayor of Moulins.]

[1] My best guess on these: Mont-Valerian had some construction in the 1840s and played an important part in World War II, and I can only find a note that it was the home of a community of hermits and monastics in the town of Puteaux, a suburb of Paris. The Calvary may be the Calvary at Pleyben. A Calvary is generally a monument representing the crucifixion of Jesus, and the Calvary at Pleyben is an impressive large monument, four massive sculpture-topped columns, at least 50 feet tall, with scenes from Jesus’s life, death, descent into hell, and resurrection. There are other calvareys, but this one is impressive and a likely tourist destination for someone as religiously-oriented as M.B.

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

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