Danry, in his turn, wore out the patience of his guardians. Major Chevalier, who was kindness itself, wrote to the lieutenant of police: "He is no better than Allègre, but though more turbulent and choleric, he is much less to be feared in every respect." The physician of the Bastille, Dr. Boyer, a member of the Academy, wrote likewise: "I have good reason to distrust the man." The temper of Danry became embittered. He began to revile the warders. One morning they were obliged to take from him a knife and other sharp instruments he had concealed. He used the paper they gave him to open communications with other prisoners and with people outside. Paper was withheld: he then wrote with his blood on a handkerchief; he was forbidden by the lieutenant of police to write to him with his blood, so he wrote on tablets made of bread crumbs, which he passed out secretly between two plates. The use of paper was then restored to him, which did not prevent him from writing to Berryer: "My lord, I am writing to you with my blood on linen, because the officers refuse me ink and paper; it is now more than six times that I have asked in vain to speak to them. What are you about, my lord? Do not drive me to extremities. At least, do not force me to be my own executioner. Send a sentry to break my head for me; that is the very least favour you can do me." Berryer, astonished at this missive, remarked on it to the major, who replied: "I have not refused paper to Danry." [Illustration: Beginning of a letter written with blood on linen by Danry (Latude) while a prisoner at Vincennes, to Rougemont, the king's lieutenant. ] So the prisoner forced them more and more to the conclusion that he was a madman. On October 13, 1753, he wrote to Dr. Quesnay to tell him that he wished him well, but that being too poor to give him anything else, he was making him a present of his body, which was on the point of perishing, for him to make a skeleton of. To the paper on which he wrote, Danry had sewn a little square of cloth, adding: "God has given the garments of martyrs the virtue of healing all manner of diseases. It is now fifty-seven months since I have been suffering an enforced martyrdom. So there is no doubt that to-day the cloth of my coat will work miracles; here is a bit for you." This letter was returned to the lieutenant of police in December, and on it we find a marginal note in Berryer's hand: "A letter worth keeping, as it reveals the prisoner's mind." We know in what fashion madmen were wont to be treated in the eighteenth century.