Waxing crafty, yet, as I believed, writing truth, I continued:  “I need money badly, and if I cared to, I could sell my information and services to the New York World or New York Journal for a large amount.  But I do not intend to advertise Connecticut as a Hell-hole of Iniquity, Insanity, and Injustice.  If the facts appeared in the public press at this time, Connecticut would lose caste with her sister States.  And they would profit by Connecticut’s disgrace and correct the abuses before they could be put on the rack.  As these conditions prevail throughout the country, there is no reason why Connecticut should get all the abuse and criticism which would follow any such revelation of disgusting abuse; such inhuman treatment of human wrecks.  If publicity is necessary to force you to act—­and I am sure it will not be necessary—­I shall apply for a writ of habeas corpus, and, in proving my sanity to a jury, I shall incidentally prove your own incompetence.  Permitting such a whirl-wind reformer to drag Connecticut’s disgrace into open court would prove your incompetence.”

For several obvious reasons it is well that I did not at that time attempt to convince a jury that I was mentally sound.  The mere outlining of my ambitious scheme for reform would have caused my immediate return to the hospital.  That scheme, however, was a sound and feasible one, as later events have proved.  But, taking hold of me, as it did, while my imagination was at white heat, I was impelled to attack my problem with compromising energy and, for a time, in a manner so unconvincing as to obscure the essential sanity of my cherished purpose.

I closed my letter as follows:  “No doubt you will consider certain parts of this letter rather ‘fresh.’  I apologize for any such passages now, but, as I have an Insane License, I do not hesitate to say what I think.  What’s the use when one is caged like a criminal?

“P.S.  This letter is a confidential one—­and is to be returned to the writer upon demand.”

The letter was eventually forwarded to my conservator and is now in my possession.

As a result of my protest the Governor immediately interrogated the superintendent of the institution where “Jekyll-Hyde” had tortured me.  Until he laid before the superintendent my charges against his assistant, the doctor in authority had not even suspected that I had been tortured.  This superintendent took pride in his institution.  He was sensitive to criticism and it was natural that he should strive to palliate the offence of his subordinate.  He said that I was a most troublesome patient, which was, indeed, the truth; for I had always a way of my own for doing the things that worried those in charge of me.  In a word, I brought to bear upon the situation what I have previously referred to as “an uncanny admixture of sanity.”

The Governor did not meet the assistant physician who had maltreated me.  The reprimand, if there was to be any, was left to the superintendent to administer.