Hash Eater

This reading is from The Hashish Eater, or Passages from the Life of a Pythagorean,

by Fitzhugh Ludlow, published in 1857 by Harper & Brothers, New York.

This was the first of the American hashish exposés, and many feel the best.

And what I'm going to read this morning, out of a very rich potential group of readings,

is Fitzhugh Ludlow's description of his first encounter with the power of cannabis.

So I begin the reading partway through the chapter called The Night Entrance.

One morning, in the spring of 1850-something, I dropped in upon the doctor for my accustomed lounge.

Have you seen, said he, my new acquisitions?

I looked toward the shelves in the direction of which he pointed,

and saw, added since my last visit, a row of comely pasteboard cylinders

enclosing vials of the various extracts prepared by Tilden and Company,

Arranged in order according to their size, they confronted me,

as pretty a rank of medicinal sharpshooters as could gratify the eye of an amateur.

I approached the shelves that I might take them in review.

A rapid glance showed most of them to be old acquaintances,

Conium, Taraxacum, Rhubarb.

Ha! What is this, Cannabis Indica?

That, answered the doctor, looking with a parental fondness upon his new treasure,

is a preparation of the East Indian Hemp, a powerful agent in cases of lockjaw.

On the strength of this introduction, I took down the little archer,

and, removing his outer verdant coat, began the further prosecution of his acquaintance.

To pull out a broad and shallow cork was the work of an instant,

and it revealed to me an olive-brown extract of the consistency of pitch

and a decided aromatic odor.

Drawing out a small portion upon the point of my penknife,

I was just going to put it to my tongue when,

Hold on! cried the doctor.

Do you want to kill yourself?

That stuff is deadly poison.

Indeed, I replied, no, I cannot say that I have any settled determination of that kind,

and with that I replaced the cork and restored the extract

with all its appurtenances to the shelf.

The remainder of my morning's visit in the sanctum

was spent consulting the dispensatory under the title Cannabis Indica.

The sum of my discoveries there may be found,

with much additional information,

in that invaluable popular work,

Johnston's Chemistry of Common Life.

This being universally accessible,

I will allude no further to the result of that morning's researches

than to mention the three following conclusions to which I came.

First, the doctor was both right and wrong.

Right, inasmuch as a sufficiently large dose of the drug,

if it could be retained in the stomach,

would produce death, like any other narcotic,

and the ultimate effect of its habitual use

had always proved highly injurious to mind and body.

Wrong, since moderate doses of it were never immediately deadly,

and many millions of people daily employed it

as an indulgence similarly to opium.

Second, it was the hashish referred to by Eastern travelers

and the subject of a most graphic chapter from the pen of Bayard Taylor,

which months before had moved me powerfully to curiosity and admiration.

Third, I would add it to the list of my former experiences.

In pursuance of this last determination,

I waited till my friend was out of sight,

that I might not terrify him by that which he considered a suicidal venture,

and then, quickly uncapping my little archer a second time,

removed from his store of offensive armor,

a pill sufficient to balance the ten-grain weight of the sanctorial scales.

This, upon the authority of Pereira and the dispensatory,

I swallowed without a tremor as to the danger of the result.

Making all due allowance for the fact

that I had not taken my hashish bolus fasting,

I ought to experience its effects within the next four hours.

That time elapsed without bringing the shadow of a phenomenon.

It was plain that my dose had been insufficient.

For the sake of observing the most conservative prudence,

I suffered several days to go by

without a repetition of the experiment,

and then, keeping the matter equally secret,

I administered to myself a pill of fifteen grains.

This second was equally ineffectual with the first.

Gradually, by five grains at a time,

I increased the dose to thirty grains,

which I took one evening, half an hour after tea.

I had now almost come to the conclusion

that I was absolutely unsusceptible of the hashish influence.

Without any expectation that this last experiment

would be more successful than the former ones,

and indeed, with no realization of the manner

in which the drug affected those

who did make the experiment successfully,

I went to pass the evening

at the house of an intimate friend.

In music and conversation,

the time passed pleasantly.

The clock struck ten,

reminding me that three hours had elapsed

since the dose was taken,

and as yet not an unusual symptom had appeared.

I was provoked to think that this trial

was as fruitless as its predecessors.

Ah, what mean is this sudden thrill?

A shock as of some unimagined vital force

shoots without warning through my entire frame,

leaping to my fingers' ends,

piercing my brain,

startling me till I almost spring from my chair.

I could not doubt it.

I was in the power of the hashish influence.

My first emotion was one of uncontrollable terror,

a sense of getting something

which I had not bargained for.

That moment I would have given all I had

or hoped to have

to be as I was three hours before.

No pain anywhere,

not a twinge in any fiber,

yet a cloud of unutterable strangeness

was settling upon me

and wrapping me impenetrably in

from all that was natural or familiar.

Endeared faces well known to me of old

surrounded me,

and yet they were not with me in my loneliness.

I had entered upon a tremendous life

which they could not share.

If the disembodied ever returned

to hover over the hearthstone

which once had a seat for them,

they look upon their friends

as I then looked upon mine,

a nearness of place

with an infinite distance of state,

a connection which had no possible sympathies

for the wants of that hour of revelation,

an isolation,

none the less perfect for seeming companionship.

Still, I spoke.

A question was put to me,

and I answered it.

I even laughed at an own name.

It was not my voice which spoke,

perhaps one which I once had far away

in another time and another place.

For a while,

I knew nothing that was going on externally,

and then the remembrance of the last remark

which had been made

returned slowly and indistinctly

as some trait of a dream will return

after many days,

puzzling us to say

where we have been conscious of it before.

A fitful wind all the evening

had been sighing down the chimney.

Now it grew into the steady hum

of a vast wheel in accelerating motion.

For a while,

this hum seemed to resound through all space.

I was stunned by it.

I was absorbed in it.

Slowly,

the revolution of the wheel came to a stop,

and its monotonous din was changed

for the reverberating peal

of a grand cathedral organ.

The ebb and flow

of its inconceivably solemn tone

filled me with a grief

that was more than human.

I sympathized with the dirge-like cadence

as spirit sympathizes with spirit,

and then,

in the full conviction

that all I heard and felt was real,

I looked out of my isolation

to see the effect of the music

on my friends.

Ah,

we were in separate worlds indeed,

not a trace of appreciation

on any face.

Perhaps I was acting strangely.

Suddenly,

a pair of busy hands

which had been running

neck and neck

all the evening

with a nimble little crochet needle

over a race ground

of pink and blue silk

stopped at their goal,

and their owner

looked at me steadfastly.

Ah,

I was found out.

I had betrayed myself.

In terror,

I waited,

expecting every instant

to hear the word

hashish.

No,

the lady only asked me

some question

connected with the previous conversation.

As mechanically

as an automaton,

I began to reply.

As I heard once more

the alien and unreal tones

of my own voice,

I became convinced

that it was someone else

who spoke,

and in another world.

I sat and listened.

Still,

the voice kept speaking.

Now,

for the first time,

I experienced

the vast change

which hashish makes

in all measurements of time.

The first word of the reply

occupied a period

sufficient for the action

of a drama.

The last left me

in complete ignorance

of any point

far enough back

in the past

to date the commencement

of the sentence.

Its enunciation

might have occupied years.

I was not

in the same life

which had held me

when I heard it begun.

And now,

with time,

space expanded also.

At my friend's house,

one particular armchair

was always reserved

for me.

I was sitting in it

at a distance

of hardly three feet

from the center table

around which the members

of the family

were grouped.

Rapidly,

that distance widened.

The whole atmosphere

seemed ductile

and spun endlessly out

into great spaces

surrounding me

on every side.

We were in a vast hall

of which my friends

and I occupied

opposite extremities.

The ceiling

and the walls

ran upward

with a gliding motion

as if vivified

by a sudden force

of resistless growth.

Oh,

I could not bear it.

I should soon

be left alone

in the midst

of an infinity

of space.

And now,

more and more,

every moment

increased the conviction

that I was watched.

I did not know then

as I learned afterwards

that suspicion

of all earthly things

and persons

was the characteristic

of the hashish delirium.

In the midst

of my complicated

hallucination,

I could perceive

that I had

a dual existence.

One portion of me

was whirled

unresistingly

along the track

of this tremendous

experience.

The other

sat looking down

from a height

upon its double,

observing,

reasoning,

and serenely weighing

all the phenomena.

This calmer being

suffered with the other

by sympathy

but did not lose

its self-possession.

Presently,

it warned me

that I must go home

lest the growing effect

of the hashish

should incite me

to some act

which might frighten

my friends.

I acknowledged

the force of this remark

very much

as if it had been made

by another person

and rose to take my leave.

I advanced

toward the center table.

With every step

its distance increased,

I nerved myself

as for a long

pedestrian journey.

Still,

the lights,

the faces,

the furniture receded.

At last,

almost unconsciously,

I reached them.

It would be tedious

to attempt

to convey

the idea

of the time

which my leave-taking

consumed

and the attempt,

at least with all minds

that have not passed

through the same experience,

it would be

as impossible

as tedious.

At last,

however,

I was in the street.

Beyond me,

the view

stretched endlessly away.

It was an unconverging vista

whose nearest lamp

seemed separated

from me

by leagues.

I was doomed

to pass

through a merciless

stretch of space.

A soul

just disenthralled

setting out

for his flight

beyond the furthest

visible star

could not be

more overwhelmed

with his newly

acquired conception

of the sublimity

of distance

than I was

at that moment.

Solemnly,

I began

my input.

Before long,

I walked

in entire

unconsciousness

of all around me.

I dwelt

in a marvelous

inner world.

I existed

by turns

in different places

and various

states of being.

Now I swept

my gondola

through the

moonlit

lagoons

of Venice.

Now,

Alp on Alp

towered

above my view

and the glory

of the coming sun

flashed purple light

upon the topmost

icy pinnacle.

Now,

in the primeval

silence

of some

unexplored

tropical forest,

I spread

my feathery leaves,

a giant fern,

and swayed

and nodded

in the spice

gales

over a river

whose waves

at once

sent out

clouds of music

and perfume.

My soul

changed

to a vegetable

essence.

Thrilled

with a strange

and unimaginable

ecstasy,

the palace

of Al-Haroom

could not have

brought me back

to humanity.

I will not

detail all the

transmutations

of that walk.

Ever and anon

I returned

from my dreams

into consciousness

as some

well-known house

seemed to leap

out into my path,

awakening me

with a shock.

The whole way

homeward

was a series

of such awakenings

and relapses

into abstraction

and delirium

until I reached

the corner

of the street

in which I lived.

Here,

a new phenomenon

manifested itself.

I had just

awakened

for perhaps

the twentieth time

and my eyes

were wide open.

I recognized

all surrounding

objects

and began

calculating

the distance

home.

Suddenly,

out of a blank

wall at my

side,

a muffled

figure stepped

into the path

before me.

His hair,

white as snow,

hung in tangled

elf locks

on his shoulders

where he carried

also a heavy

burden,

like unto

the well-filled

sack of sins

which Bunyan

places on the

back of his

pilgrim.

not liking his

manner,

I stepped aside

intending to

pass around him

and go on my

way.

This change

of our relative

position allowed

the blaze of a

neighboring street

light to fall

full on his face

which had

hitherto been

totally obscured.

Horror

unspeakable!

I shall never

till the day

I die

forget that

face.

Every

liniment

was stamped

with the

records of a

life black

with damning

crime.

It glared

upon me

with a

ferocious

wickedness

and a

stony

despair

which only

he may

feel

who is

entering

on the

retribution

of the

unpardonable

sin.

He might

have sat

to a

demon

painter

as the

ideal

of

Shelley's

senchi.

I seemed

to grow

blasphemous

in looking

at him

and in

an agony

of fear

began

to run

away.

He detained

me with a

bony hand

which pierced

my wrist

like talons

and slowly

taking down

the burden

from his

own shoulders

laid it

upon mine.

I threw

it off

and pushed

him away.

Silently

he returned

and restored

the weight.

Again I

repulsed him

this time

crying out

man

what do

you mean?

In a voice

which impressed

me with the

sense of

wickedness

as his

face

had done

he replied

you shall

bear

and a third

time laid

it on my

shoulders.

For the

last time

I hurled

it aside

and with

all my

force

dashed

him from

me.

He reeled

backward

and fell

and before

he could

recover

his

disadvantage

I had

put a

long

distance

between

us.

Through

the

excitement

of my

struggle

with this

phantasm

the effects

of the

hashish

had increased

mightily.

I was

bursting

with an

uncontrollable

life.

I strode

with the

fuse of

a giant.

Hotter

and faster

came my

breath.

I seemed

to pant

like some

tremendous

engine.

An electric

energy

whirled me

resistlessly

onward.

I feared for

myself

at least

it should

burst

its

fleshy

walls

and

glance

on

leave

a

wreck

of

framework

behind

it.

At

last

I

entered

my

own

house.

During

my

absence

a

family

connection

had

arrived

from

abroad

and

stood

ready

to

receive

my

greeting.

Partly

restored

to

consciousness

by the

naturalness

of home

faces

and

with

an

intense

effort

suppressing

all I

felt

I

approached

my

friend

and

said

all

that

is

usual

on

such

occasions.

Yet

recent

as I

was

from

my

conflict

with

the

supernatural

I

cast

a

stealthy

look

about

me

that

I

might

learn

from

the

faces

of

others

if

after

all

I

was

shaking

hands

with

a

phantom

and

making

inquiries

about

the

health

of

a

salutation

and sat

down

it

soon

required

all

my

resolution

to

keep

the

secret

which

I

had

determined

to

hold

inviolable

my

sensations

began

to be

terrific

not

from

any

pain

that

I

felt

but

from

the

tremendous

mystery

of

all

around

me

and

within

me

by

an

appalling

introversion

all

the

operations

of

vitality

which

in

our

ordinary

state

go

on

unconsciously

came

vividly

into

my

every

thinnest

corporeal

tissue

and

minutest

vein

I

could

see

the

circulation

of

the

blood

along

each

inch

of

its

progress

I

knew

when

every

valve

opened

and

when

it

shut

every

sense

was

pretty

naturally

awakened

the

room

was

full

of

a

great

glory

the

beating

of

my

heart

was

so

clearly

audible

that

I

wondered

to

find

it

unnoticed

by

became

a

great

fountain

whose

jet

played

upward

with

loud

vibrations

and a

striking

upon

the

roof

of

my

skull

as

on

a

gigantic

dome

fell

back

with a

splash

and

echo

into

its

reservoir

faster

and faster

came

the

pulsations

until

at last

I heard

them

no more

and the

stream

became

one

continuously

pouring

flood

whose

roar

resounded

through all

my

frame

I gave

myself

off

the

rest

since

judgment

which

still

sat

unimpaired

above

my

perverted

senses

argued

that

congestion

must

take

place

in a

few

moments

and

closed

the

drama

with

my

death

but

my

clutch

would

not

yet

relax

from

hope

the

thought

struck

me

might

not

this

rapidity

of

circulation

be

after

all

imaginary

I

determined

to

find

out

going

to my

own

room

I

took

out

my

watch

and

placed

my

hand

upon

my

heart

the

very

effort

which

I

made

to

ascertain

the

reality

gradually

brought

perception

back

to

its

normal

state

in

the

intensity

of

my

observations

I

began

to

perceive

that

the

circulation

was

not

as

rapid

as

I

had

thought

from

a

pulseless

flow

it

gradually

came

to

be

apprehended

as

a

hurrying

succession

of

intense

throbs

then

less

swift

and

less

intense

till

finally

on

comparing

it

with

the

second

hand

I

found

that

about

ninety

a

minute

was

its

average

rapidity

greatly

comforted

I

desisted

from

the

experiment

almost

instantly

the

hallucination

returned

again

I

dreaded

apoplexy

congestion

hemorrhage

and a

multiplicity

of

nameless

deaths

and

drew

my

picture

as

I

might

be

found

on

the

morrow

stark

and

cold

by

those

whose

agony

would

be

redoubted

by

the

mystery

of

my

end

I

reasoned

with

myself

I

bathed

my

forehead

it

did

no

good

there

was

one

resource

left

I

would

go

to

a

physician

with

this

resolve

I

left

my

room

and

went

to

the

head

of

the

staircase

the

family

had

all

retired

for

the

night

and

the

gas

was

turned

off

from

the

burner

in

the

hall

below

I

looked

down

the

stairs

the

depth

was

fathomless

it

was

a

journey

of

years

to

reach

the

bottom

the

dim

light

of

the

sky

shone

through

the

narrow

panes

at

the

sides

of

the

front

door

and

seemed

a

demon

light

in

the

middle

darkness

of

the

abyss

I

never

could

get

down

I

sat

me

down

despairingly

upon

the

top

most

step

suddenly

a

sublime

thought

possessed

me

if the

distance

be

infinite

I

am

immortal

it

shall

be

tried

I

commenced

the

descent

wearily

down

through

my

league

long

year

long

journey

to

record

my

impressions

in that

journey

would be

to

repeat

what I

have

as a

traveler

would

turn

aside

at

a

wayside

inn

now

toiling

down

through

the

lonely

darkness

I

came

by

and

by

to

the

end

and

passed

out

into

the

street