I had been in stir about four years on my first bit when I began to
appreciate how terrible a master I had come under. Of course, to a
certain extent, the habit had been forced upon me. After a man has
had for several years bad food, little air and exercise, no natural
companionship, particularly with the other sex, from whom he is
entirely cut off, he really needs a stimulant. Many men fall into the
vilest of habits. I found, for my part, that only opium would calm
me. It takes only a certain length of time for almost all convicts to
become broken in health, addicted to one form or another of stimulant
which in the long run pulls them down completely. Diseases of various
kinds, insanity and death, are the result. But before the criminal
is thus released, he grows desperate in the extreme; particularly if
he resorts to opium, for that drug makes one reckless. The hop fiend
never takes consequences into consideration. Under its influence I
became very irritable and unruly, and would take no back talk from the
keepers. They and the stool-pigeons began to be afraid of me. I would
not let them pound me in any way, and I often got into a violent fight.
As long as I had my regular allowance of opium, which in the fourth
year of my term was about twenty grains a day, I was peaceable enough.
It was when I began to lessen the amount, with the desire to give
it up, that I became so irritable and violent. The strain of reform,
even in this early and unsuccessful attempt, was terrible. At times I
used to go without the full amount for several days; but then I would
relapse and go on a debauch until I was almost unconscious. After
recovery, I would make another resolution, only to fall again.
But my life in stir was not all that of the solitary; there were means,
even when I was in the shop, of communicating with my fellow convicts;
generally by notes, as talking was forbidden. Notes, too, were
contraband, but we found means of sending them through cons working
in the hall. Sometimes good-natured or avaricious keepers would carry
them; but as a rule a convict did not like to trust a note to a keeper.
He was afraid that the screw would read it, whereas it was a point of
honor with a convict to deliver the note unread. The contents of these
notes were usually news about our girls or pals, which we had received
through visitors--rare, indeed!--or letters. By the same means there
was much betting done on the races, baseball games and prize fights. We
could send money, too, or opium, in the same way, to a friend in need;
and we never required an I. O. U.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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