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- He died from an unfortunate accident in a boxing match at Yale University. He passed the examination at Harvard when he was only 16 and entered it at the age of 17. His eyes gave him so much trouble that he left and went to Paris to have them treated. In 1880 he began a scientific course in Columbia college, when his eyes again failed him. He took a sea voyage for his health, went out West and after two years, with the encouragement of his father entered Yale. (Granddaughter, Jean W. Quinnett has newspaper clippings of her mother's). From 'The East Chester News', courtesy of Jean (Walsh) Quinnett, 9/4/00 A HARVARD MAN ON A TRAMP. HOW SUCH A TRAMP FEELS WHEN HE IS ON THE VERGE OF STARVATION. Strange experiences.-Recklessness induced by privation of sleep and food,--The kind of people who tramp.-- Their hardships and enjoyments. While on my way east from the lumber regions of Northern Michigan, it occurred to me to study tramps and tramping by personal observation and experience. I had done a good deal of walking in this country and France as a student, and I now resolved to tramp from Point Edward, Canada, on the river St. Clair, to New Bedford, Mass. So, sending my luggage home by express, I set out on my long tramp on the 23rd of October, 1881, witha meagre supply of money. I had a companion, a young Canadian, whose parents lived at St. Mary, about seventy, miles from Point Edward. He had been to the States to seek his fortune; had been ill a long time in Chicago; had become penniless, and was now trying to work his way home as best he could. Our first tramp was on the Grand Trunk railway, twenty-two miles, to Forest. The Canadian's shoes were so tight he could not make good time.Night overtook us. It was cold and rainy. We passed the night under some boards placed slantwise against a fence so as to form a sloping cover. My fellow tramp was a good English scholar, and familiar with English literature from Shakespeare to Tennyson. We beguiled the toilsome journey of the day and the tedious hours of the night with literary discussions. At Forest, my companion having become too lame to walk, we 'jumped a freight' at dusk. 'Jumping a freight' is tramp slang for taking an unobserved and free ride on a freight train. This was my first ride between cars. My companion stood on the very narrow platform of the forward car, holding on by a horizontal iron handle, with his hands behind him. I stood with one hand grasping the same handle, the other hand on the brake of the hind car, with a foot on each bumper, there being no platform on the back car to stand on. In such a position there is LIABILITY TO DEATH by the sudden parting of the train. I was at first uneasy, but familiarity with the situation soon bred indifference and recklessness. On a subsequent occasion, while sitting on one bumper, with my feet on the other, I dozed, with my hands in my pockets. Our train stopped at every station, until it reached St. Mary, where we wished to get off, and there it did not stop, but went dashing on to Stratford, ten miles beyond. The next day we crawled back to St. Mary,not being able to make two miles an hour, on account of my friend's lameness. We had had no hearty food since breakfast on Sunday morning,and it was now Tuesday afternoon. We had eaten during that time a few apples, a small load of bread, and six thin cookies. At last we procured some coarse food at a farm house for twenty cents, and made a hearty meal. On taking leave of my comrade at his home in St. Mary, I walked south at night, passing through London about midnight. A few miles further on I saw a large fire of brush and logs in a field. In attempting to reach it, I got into a swamp up to my knees. Getting upon firm ground , near the fire, I dried my shoes and socks, and lay down with my feet towards the burning heap, on a pile of brush between the fire and a steep hillside. Something rustled in the brush under me, but I would not move. Sleep I would, at any hazard. The brush on which I was lying might get on fire and set my clothes ablaze; but there was water enough in the swamp to extinguish me, and I could easily rolling to it. In my reckless state, indeed by excessive drowsiness, this thought amused me. I smiled, and fell asleep. A man becomes utterly reckless under privation of sleep. In such a state he will SLEEP AT ALL HAZARDS I have slept soaking with rain, with my hat over my face, beside railroad tracks and under station platforms, or hanging on between cars.In the latter case my hands kept awake and hung on, while the rest of my body slept. So doth 'sleep upon the high and giddy mast seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains in cradle of the rude imperious surge.' I reached St. Thomas about eight o'clock next morning, having eaten four small apples on the way. Here I was hospitably received by kind friends, who were highly amused with my tramping career, and who sent me on my way with a pass across Lake Erie from Port Stanley to Buffalo.Thence I took a night tramp of twenty-two miles to Niagara Falls, taking three naps by the way; one in a cow-yard, where the cattle ate the straw off me, and the others on plank sidewalks. At Niagara Falls I reduced myself by extravagance nearly to the impecunious condition of the true tramp. When I left the railroad bridge I had sixty-three cents in money, twenty-four cents in postage-stamps,twenty-five cents worth of Canada plug tobacco, and a few matches. I walked, in four days, to Palmyra, about ninety miles, sleeping in barns, and eating Bologna sausage, raw onions, bread, and a few raw turnips and cabbages. At Palmyra I 'jumped a freight' at dusk, and rode between cars to Syracuse. Wishing to experience a phase of tramp-life to which I was as yet a stranger, I put up at a station-house, and slept on a wooden bench,in an iron cage, next to a crazy man. In the morning, while I was trying to 'hire out' on the canal, a sweet-voiced vagabond borrowed tobacco of me; then a mean-looking,vagabond asked for a 'chaw'; then a tattered rapscallion, with a brutal face. This last was 'Billy,' from Oswego. He was a professional beggar,and made, when he stuck to his business, a dollar a day, besides food and clothing. The winter he passed in jail. His two companions were his parasites, who paid court to him and lived on his acquisitions. Like every great man, he had his weakness. He wished to be thought a terrible fighter, though all 'broke up.' His joyous companions profited by his vanity, paying court to him, flattering him, and keeping him at work begging, and then cajoling him into spending his earnings upon them. These men presented a phase of human nature that was new to me. I had no idea that such a :dead beat' as Billy could have parasites to flatter and cajole him, and live on his revenues, and be content so to live. But, 'fleas have other fleas to bite 'em.' These were the only really abject men I met; men who preferred beggary to work and independence. I have often been asked what sort of men tramps are. They are all sorts. No particular kind of man tramps. So far as my experience goes,most of them, are either men who, having left home, have been sick or unsuccessful, and are returning home penniless; or else laboring men looking for work; or men of limited resources who wish to better their condition by getting west. Often they are men of education and of good family. There are, of course, a number of ragamuffins, and many vulgar ruffians, and the general effect of tramping is, by freedom from the restraints of public opinion, and temptation through hunger, to lower the tone. At Utica, I jumped another freight. After riding forty miles, I was so cold that I got off and walked to warm myself. Next morning, I found seven slices of bread and butter beside the track. The morning after that, I found bread, meat, and mince pie; on another occasion, a nice roasted chicken. 'The YOUNG LIONS roar after their prey and seek their meat from God. * * * These wait all upon Thee; that Thou mayest give them their meat in due season.' At Schenectady I spent my last postage stamp. Just out of Albany, I met a well dressed young fellow, who gave me some tobacco. His method of traveling one division of a railroad, was to learn the names of a conductor and his brakemen on the next division, and claim to be of their crew. I jumped my last freight to Pitsfield, Mass.It was too cold to ride. Next day, I kept on east. I was without food and money. Late in the afternoon, with reluctance I begged at a farmhouse, but being refused, I preferred hunger to further begging.Next day my appetite was improved. I knew of no work for which I was fit. Begging was repugnant.Passing through a village, I picked up a piece of cracker, and a raw turnip in the streets. On the outskirts a fishmonger threw the head and dorsal fin of a fish in the road. From these I chewed the flesh. It tasted good. I was wild with hunger. I have heard it said that hunger makes one cowardly. This may be so in extreme cases but the contrary is true as long as the strength is not seriously impaired. The blood mounted to my face. I was feverish. My eyes felt strange. I have noticed in others that hunger makes the eyes fierce and mobile like a wild beast's. I felt reckless.Nothing seemed repugnant which gave any promise of food. I begged. At the first house, a young man came to the door. I heard a woman say within, 'If he is a grown man, he shan't have anything.' The young man said he had nothing. At the next house I asked a woman for a piece of bread. 'No, sir; not a thing!' she answered. I bowed sullenly, and went on. At the third house I saw a saw-horse. My heart leaped within me. Perhaps I could get a chance to saw wood. On my application an old gentleman came out and gave me permission to work for a meal. I instantly had my coat off with a right good will. After I had worked about ten minutes the old gentleman called me in, saying I could not work well while hungry, and invited me to take a meal which he evidently had prepared for me. There was a large, round dish of potatoes warmed in milk, plenty of beefsteak, bread and butter, a quarter of an apple pie,and part of a loaf of gingerbread. I cleared the table. After finishing my job I kept on east. On reaching Palmer, east of Springfield, I turned southeast into Connecticut, intending to go to New Bedford. I reached Killingly, Conn., on Thursday morning, November 17th.Here two men, who had been on a spree, took me for A HORSE THIEF until they learned the whereabouts of their animals from a passing baker. All others treated me with great kindness. I got a job to saw wood, for which I was to receive two dollars. It took me a day and a half to doit. As I was finishing it, on Friday night, some of the bystanders, who had gathered to see me work, helped me out, each sawing a few sticks. I was now about one hundred and forty-five miles from home. I resolved to spend Thanksgiving with my relatives instead of going to New Bedford. I had five days to tramp the distance. On Saturday night I reached Mansfield, east of Hartford, dripping with rain. Entering a barn, I stripped to my undershirt and buried my clothes and then myself in the hay, so as not to have my rest disturbed by any intrusive barn-owner. I was out before sunrise. There was ice on the ground, and a strong west wind. My coat was soon frozen. My hands were too numb to hold a match to light it. My right arm was numb to the elbow. I was demoralized; but fast walking, the wind, and the rising sun, in time dried my clothes and restored my spirits. Pushing through Hartford I made my longest march of forty-eight miles. About eight miles from New Haven I entered a barn. Here I wrapped myself in three blankets, and lay in a heap on the seat of a carry-all.About six o'clock in the morning a man with a lantern came to attend to this horse. I held my breath. He took a pail near me, but evidently thought I was a heap of blankets. On the noon of Wednesday, November 23d, I reached home, having traveled about two hundred miles by freight and five hundred and fifty on foot in exactly a month. The great question in tramping is food. The more cultured a man is the more painful is begging. He has a strong repugnance to it, which only time and extreme hunger will subdue. As a rule he will even prefer to steal. Whenever he becomes known as a respectable man, he is apt to be treated kindly; but it is next to impossible to become thus known. Even if he were to stick up his college diploma or certificate of moral character on the breast of his very seedy coat, it would not overcome the suspicion which springs spontaneous in the human breast at sight of a tramp. Again, a Washington or a Franklin on a tramp would acquire 'a lean and hungry look,' from which all recoil with the instinctive feeling,that 'such men are dangerous.' Doubtless they are. I happened to get a glimpse of myself in a looking-glass in a railroad station near Palmer,Mass. I had a peculiarly bad eye-a shameless, untrustworthy eye. It,perhaps, expressed the soul within. Indeed, it would have required a childlike trust to have then made me custodian of a pantry or night-watchman of a bakery. In spite of cold, hunger and fatigue, I heartily enjoyed my adventure. I was living a primitive life, a free nomadic life. The life of civilization is made up largely of the pleasures and ills of imagination, the demands of interdependent relations. It was pleasant to me to abandon this life for a time and gauge my happiness by the clemency of the weather and the fullness of my stomach. O .D., Jr.
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1861 - 1884 (22 years)