The northern hemisphere velocipedes were exported to many distant places, and in 1831, a
“Sydney Exquisite” was seen riding his velocipede on “the Race Course”, one of
the names given in those days to what is now Sydney’s Hyde Park. The southern
section featured Sydney’s water supply, which came from a nearby swamp through
a tunnel (“Busby’s Bore”) before discharging from an outlet pipe that carts
could drive under.
The unused water drained away into Sydney’s original water
supply, an open sewer called the Tank Stream, but at least near the bore
outlet, the water was clean. This was just as well because, as a newspaper
report said, “…the Exquisite was chuckling inwardly at the admiration he
excited…” but this ended when he ran into a drain and capsized head over heels,
with a wheel wrenched off.
Any Australian enthusiasm for cycling faded until January
1845, when a sporting gentleman made a bet undertaken “to ride a dandy horse
one mile along the turnpike road between the first toll-gate and Parramatta,
without touching the ground with either hands or feet.” The bet was for £50,
and the side bets were for 2 to 1 against the rider. So what was a dandy horse?
The newspaper Bell’s Life in Sydney and
Sporting Reviewer, was quick to explain.
…it is a remnant of English
recreative mechanism, very much in vogue 25 years ago, amongst the gentry of Great
Britain, and consists of two wheels, placed one before the other, connected by
a curved shaft, upon the concavity of which is fixed by steel springs, to
afford an elastic movement, a species of saddle. Here the rider must sit, with
knees flexed and feet resting upon two projecting bars of iron, attached on
either side of the front wheel. It must be observed that great dexterity will
be required to balance the machine, and upon this the whole difficulty of
performing the task seems to rest; but as the front wheel moves to a guide
under the control of the rider, this can be materially lessened by what would
be termed upon the turf, a “fine hand.”
— Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer (NSW), 4 January 1845, 2.
At the end of the year, that attempt was still to take
place. In November, it was specified that “…the match is to ride a dandy horse
upon a turnpike road, the distance of one mile, during which transit the
adventurous desperado is to have his legs tied to an iron bar, and to be
thereby prevented from either touching the ground or using them in any other
manner.” Then in December, the match was definitely to occur:
MONDAY next is the day appointed for this long talked of and
singular exploit. Our readers may remember that a wager of £50 to £20 was made
that a Mr.—— could not, within one month, find any person to ride the ordinary
two-wheeled velocipede one standard mile, during which transit the rider was
not to allow either foot or hand to touch the ground. It was purposed to make the
last deposit at Parramatta, but at the request of several Sydneyites, the
parties interested have resolved to run as near the metropolis as possible; and
the Woolpack, opposite Petersham, has been named as the place of rendezvous.
The final sum will consequently be made good at the above Inn, at 11 o’clock in
the forenoon, when the ground will be named and the effort made for the
accomplishment of this novel, and, as far as we can learn, unexampled feat. The
betting can with difficulty be quoted, as persons are offering 5, 6, and 10 to
1, against its being accomplished.
— Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer (NSW), 6 December 1845, 2,
http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/59765340
Still, nothing seems to appear in the newspapers, which are
full of “dandy horse brushes” and a horse named Velocipede. As 1851 progressed,
there was a report of five men riding a velocipede towards the Victorian
goldfields, in company with a drag hauled by four bulldogs, attended by fierce
looking men who had two more dogs of the same breed as spares. The velocipede
riders were all on board a curious vehicle:
One single piece of wood mounted on
three wheels (one before and two astern) straddled across by five strapping
fellows, seated comfortably on saddles and working away with their feet, which
propelled the strange vehicle at a rapid pace.
— The Perth Gazette and Independent Journal of Politics and News, 21
November 1851, 5.
Another was seen heading for the
Victorian goldfields in 1858, travelling “at Cobb’s coach speed”. It was:
…a hobby-horse or velocipede, piloted
by a sturdy driver, whose chiropodical strength and pluck had propelled the
slight but well knitted machine, carrying himself and upwards of two hundred
weight of ‘swag’ through the mire and macadam of the road from Melbourne to
Sandhurst in the short space of two days and a half. This is a feat
which we do not remember to have seen equalled even in the old country when
velocipedes were the fashion; and when we take into consideration the present
heavy state, and the numerous ups and downs of our roads, it seems highly
probable that the introduction of this mode of locomotion may, in the fine
weather, be a mighty rival to Bill and Deaken, and chaw up Cobb.
— The Age, 19 July, 1858, 6.
(While Cobb and Co are still well-known today, the rival
coaching firm of Bill and Deakin, owned by the father of later Australian Prime
Minister, Alfred Deakin, has been almost forgotten.)
By 1869, the British newspapers were reported in the South Australian Register as talking
about bicycles, and how they were better than velocipedes, but “ARGO” warned
the paper a month later that the “two-wheelers” weren’t up to the task, and
that velocipedes were better on Australian roads. The writer painted a picture
of doctors running about to their patients, postmen with their letters, butcher
boys with their chops and joints, and asked: how would they stand their
“bicycular machines” up? No, Argo told his readers, there was a better choice.
With a three wheeler, I know all
about it. I place my machine at the door, where it stands by itself, all alone;
I quietly step into it, sit on the seat, put my feet in the slipper
straps of the treadles, and when quite ready I depress the treadle that is
higher, produce an immediate forward motion, and by the continued alternate
action of the feet propel myself at such speed as may be convenient.
So the bicycle could lean against a wall or a post, but how
did you get moving?
Next, I suppose, when the perilous feat of mounting is
accomplished, you get somebody to give you a shove, perhaps to run along with
you for 20 or 30 yards, and then, I can imagine, if a practised hand, you can
trundle yourself along gaily enough; and if you were going to the Bay or to
Mitcham, you would have a fine bowl along the hard roads.
But suppose you want to call at 20 places in an hour. What
then? How do you stop the two-wheeled machine? Do you run it obliquely against
a wall at the risk of ruining your pants, to say nothing of your knees! Or do
you bring it to a stand in the middle of the road, when of course it falls over
on one side or the other, and you and your velocipede are sadly mixed up
together; then getting up, do you transact your business, leave the joint or
the letter, and getting on again, ask some passing stranger to give you a
shove, and so you repeat the process ad infinitum.
To my view the bicycle may be grand for a journey, but
disgusting for morning calls.
— South Australian Register, 1 June 1869, 3.
The earliest use I can find of “penny farthing” as a name
for a bicycle is 1914, but these bicycles that Argo wrote about were clearly of
that variety — and merely the only bicycles there were. Still, this type of
bicycle proved superior, the very next month, when bicycles competed with
velocipedes on the Melbourne Cricket Ground. A newspaper report denigrated the
velocipedes as “mostly clumsy looking vehicles”, and the results supported this
view.
Even so, the winning bicycle took eleven minutes and a half
to complete two miles, but even slow bicycles could be a problem. In October
1869, a cyclist appeared in Bathurst and frightened the horse drawing a fruit
cart.
On Friday evening a person named Vaughan was riding down
George street, Bathurst, in a fruit cart, and when near the store of Messrs.
Webb and Co. a person rode up the street on a bicycle; Mr. Vaughan’s horse was
a spirited animal, and having never before seen a man “riding on a wheel,”
became considerably frightened, and, anxious to get out of the way of the
strange-looking affair as quickly as possible, bolted with his own conveyance.
Mr. Vaughan, by a sudden movement of his horse, was thrown out of the cart on
to the road, but fortunately sustained no damage beyond a severe shaking. The
horse did not run far before it came to grief, for on turning the corner of the
street by the Bank of New South Wales the cart turned a somersault and the
horse was laid upon its back. No material damage was, luckily, done.
— Empire (Sydney), 19 October 1869, 3, http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/60890846
By 1875, Australian explorer Ernest Giles commented that the
Nullarbor Plain was ideal for camels — or bicycles, because the ground was
clear of traps and impediments.
It was splendid country for the camels to travel over; no
spinifex, no impediments for their feet, and no timber. A bicycle could be
ridden, I believe, over the whole extent of this plain, which must be 500 or
600 miles long by nearly 200 miles broad, it being known as the Hampton plains
in Western Australia, and ending, so to say, near Youldeh.
— Ernest Giles, Australia Twice Traversed, 1889.
Then, in 1882, came the “safety bicycle”, which was more or
less the equal-wheeled bicycle we know today. In December 1882, a Dr Richardson
addressed a London tricycle club dinner, noting that several tricyclists and
bicyclists could travel at twelve or fourteen miles an hour, and some experts
had reached eighteen miles an hour.
(Prophetically, given that the Wright brothers were bicycle
mechanics and makers, he said that he “…did not think he would be a false
prophet if he assumed that the first principles of the problem of aerial flight
would originate from the tricycle and bicycle.” That was 21 years before the
first Wright aeroplane took off!)
Warming to his theme, Richardson said that cycling was
healthy, though he regretted that some people were trying to power bicycles
with electricity. Postmen used bicycles and tricycles, and one day, soldiers
might ride into battle in the same way.
When this was reported in
The Queenslander in September 1883, the paper reminded its readers of the
specialist machines coming from the Coventry Machinists Company in England.
Amongst their specialities were machines made to order for India, designed to
be propelled by coolies; and these are of sufficient strength to carry one or
two, as the case may be, with an umbrella for shade and, according to the
number, one or two coolies additional -- and other of the company’s products
were already available in Brisbane.
In fact, Messrs. Shaw and Co.’s establishment, in
Queen-street, was displaying the “Special Club” bicycle, with one of which the
one-mile amateur championship of New South Wales was won in August, 1882.
Another of their models, the “Boy’s Own” bicycle, was also on view at the same
place. Some of these, at least, were still of the “penny-farthing” variety.
At the same time, there was the “Otto” safety bicycle. This
had two large wheels, and the seat over the axle between. There was an art in working
this, but the experience of those who have tried it was “The more we ride it
the better we like it.”
Then comes the alarming part. The brakes were “very
effective and prompt, bringing up the machine with ease at a moment’s notice,”
but the steering was done by the slacking of the driving gear on the one side
and the use of the brake at the same time, which keeps that wheel motionless
while the other travels as far round as is necessary.
In other words, the wheels were on each side, rather like
“White’s improved bicycle”, a few pages back. By 1884, the market was sorting
itself out, but the “Kangaroo” safety bicycle, which quickly became a
record-breaker, was still one of the penny-farthing style.
There were drawbacks, though.
The velocipede mania is spreading. It must have its run like
any other fever. It may become chronic, though some wise heads are predicting a
speedy crisis and collapse; or perhaps the collapse is to come before the
crisis, or they may be simultaneous! Just at present, however, the inventive
genius of many countries seems to be concentrated upon the construction of
velocipedes of every novel style. If announcements may be credited, there is—or
is going to be, which amounts to the same thing in this fast age—a monocycle,
which can be driven sixty miles an hour; a bicycle warranted to run a hundred
miles an hour on a single rail of a railroad track; and probably tricycles and
quartercycles of indefinite speed. The machines are gradually being furnished
with all conveniences, even to lanterns and lunch-boxes! Nobody feels
terrified, even when such accidents occur as did recently in Cincinnati; when a
young man taking a velocipede lesson in the fourth story of a building, lost
the control of his machine, and was precipitated through a guarded hatchway to
the cellar beneath. Such an occurence only incites story-makers to circulate reports
that in certain cities the velocipedes are driven so fast that every collision
results in the total disappearance of both rider and machine! No fragments are
ever found!
— The Queenslander, 10 July 1869, 3, http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/20324863
If you believe that yarn, wanna buy a bridge?
The end of the penny
farthing bicycle
The old style bicycles seem only to have been called “penny
farthings” after about 1914. Before that, they were just “bicycles”, as we can
tell from the passing reference here to the “high wheel”.
The Brisbane Courier says:-In order to thoroughly test
the capabilities of his “Kangaroo” safety bicycle, Mr. W, Johnson, captain of
the Amateur Cycling Club, started at 5.40 a.m. on Wednesday for Southport, with
the intention of breaking the records all along. There was a slight head wind,
and Mount Gravatt was not reached under 35 mins., the best time to this place
being exactly half-an-hour.
However, from this point the speed improved, and
the Eight Mile Plains Hotel was passed in 58 mins. (quickest on record), and
still quickening the speed, Palm’s hotel at Beenleigh was reached in exactly
two hours, being about twenty minutes quicker than the previous best.
This is
about twenty-one miles from Brisbane, and the Logan has to be crossed, which
takes up some few minutes. Pimpama (31 miles) was reached at 9 a.m., and
finally the Labrador Hotel at exactly 12.15 p.m., the whole journey from start
to finish, which is fully fifty miles, occupying just 6 hours 35 mins. All
hills as far as Beenleigh were ridden with comfort, but beyond Pimpama they are
of such a rugged and steep nature that very few indeed of them could be ridden
on any machine.
Mr. Johnson’s “Kangaroo,” which has a 36 in. wheel, geared to
54 in., and weighing about 50 lbs., stood the work well, and carried its rider
with safety down hills that it would be folly to try to ride down on an
ordinary bicycle. The machine was a source of curiosity, and inquiry all along
the road, spectators wondering how such a little machine could attain so high a
rate of speed. Mr. Johnson is thoroughly satisfied with his new machine, and
says he will never return to the high wheel again. The “Kangaroo “ is
thoroughly safe, and very little, if any, behind the ordinary bicycle in speed.
Mr. Johnson starts front scratch in all races in Brisbane,
and has never yet been beaten by any Queenslander off the same mark. During the
past eighteen months he has started in seventeen races, winning thirteen; was
three times placed second, and once third. Three of his losings were against Sydney
men. Mr. Johnson will be in Rockhampton in a week, or two, and we are told that
he will bring his wonderful little “Kangaroo” with him.
— Morning Bulletin (Rockhampton), 19 December 1884, 5, http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/52033136
Two cyclists named Gault and Cox set out in 1885 to ride
from Adelaide to Melbourne, and got there, although Gault’s “Kangaroo” had to
be replaced by another machine, along the way. It’s a story worth reading in
full:
ATHLETIC SPORTS.
CYCLING.
By ROADSTER.
ADELAIDE TO MELBOURNE.
Another transcolonial ride-Adelaide to Melbourne-has been
successfully accomplished, the heroes being Messrs. A. Gault (South Australian
B.C.) and R. C. Cox (Ariel B.C.), who arrived in Melbourne a week ago, and
after having been well fêted by Melbourne cyclists have returned to Adelaide
per steamer.
Mr. Gault, who is perhaps the most representative cyclist of
the neighbouring colony, speaks to me in felicitous terms of the trip over, and
his experience is certainly in favour of long-distance rides. The riders left
their city on Saturday, 21st March, Gault mounted on the newly-introduced and quaint
looking safety bicycle “The Kangaroo,” and Cox on a Royal by Hilman and Cooper.
The first stage of the long journey was made at Aldgate,
where the first “tea” of the journey was disposed of, and{a fresh start made
for Strathalbyn (80 miles), which was made at 11.30 p.m. in the face of a
strong head wind. The next day the River Murray was reached, which they crossed
in a small boat, and arrived at East Wellington (66 miles) in time for the
midday meal.
Twenty miles of sand and hillocks made the afternoon a
prolonged one, and it was not till reaching Menindie at 8.20 that they halted,
where they gladly put up for the night. Monday was the next day, and a chilly
frost met them on their start at 8.20 a.m., but, however, sand had given way to
good roads, and some quick travelling brought them to M’Grath’s Flat (109
miles) at 9.45. Between the flat and Wood’s Wells (121 miles) sandy patches
intervened, and the trip was rendered lively with “over the handles,” &c.
The wells were reached at 12.10, where for 25 minutes they
rested, and on their way again they made for Salt Creek (132 miles), reaching
the creek at 3 p.m. They were here treated very courteously by Mrs. Sherwood.
Salt Creek has a history of crime in the career of the desperado, Malachi
Martin, who, it is recounted, had a partiality for cutting off the existence of
the natives by drowning them in bags and other original tortures. Martin,
however, met his fate on the unhallowed beam for the murder of an unfortunate
servant girl, which he was found guilty of. He deserved his fate.
At 5.30 they leave, and arrive at the Coorong Beach) and
Chinaman’s Wells at 8 p.m. Ten minutes suffice them then, and they push on for
Cantara (148 miles), meeting on their way the picketed waggon of a teamster.
With rough bush hospitality they drained tea from the humming billy, and by the
aid of flickering lamp wrote letters to those at home, and which they
afterwards gave to the mail coach, which they met before reaching Cantara.
Coolattoo (154 miles) was the next place of accommodation,
reaching well-earned repose there at 12 o’clock. At 9 they are again on the
road, and arrive at Kingston (180 miles) at 1.15 p.m. From this point to
Narracoorte the journey was unrideable, swamps and hills vying with one another
to make matters unpleasant At Narracoorte a fresh
machine was obtained for Mr. Gault [he was riding the “Kangaroo”], and at
11.15 they started and reached the border at 1 p.m., where they were welcomed
with rough roads.
Messrs. Kay and Harslett, two cyclists, met them at Apsley
(260 miles) and paid them every attention. The prettily situated Edenhope was
reached at 6. 45, and Barrow (295 miles) at midnight. By persuasion they made
for Hamilton via Coleraine, instead of via Balmoral and Cavendish. This they
regretted, as the roads are beastly. The ride was also rendered more
uncomfortable by the rain, and they were glad to seek repose at Coleraine.
Next day they reached Hamilton (358½ miles), where they were
cordially entertained by Mr. Farrell. The rest of the journey is familiar to my
readers, and was safely negotiated by the South Australians putting in one day
no less than 103 miles. At Geelong they were met by Messrs. Killott and Moffatt
They express themselves highly favoured at the attention they have met with from
Victorian cyclists during their stay.
— The Australasian (Melbourne), 11 April 1885, 22, http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/138096892
Soon enough though, equal wheels and a chain drive became
standard, and cycling spread across the land. By 1899. Miles Franklin wrote of bicycle
tourists:
Several jackeroos, a neighbouring squatter, and a couple of
bicycle tourists turned up at Five-Bob that evening, and we had a jovial night.
The great, richly furnished drawing-room was brilliantly lighted, and the
magnificent Erard grand piano sang and rang again with music, now martial and
loud, now soft and solemn, now gay and sparkling. I made the very pleasant
discovery that Harold Beecham was an excellent pianist, a gifted player on the
violin, and sang with a strong, clear, well-trained tenor, which penetrated far
into the night.
— Miles Franklin, My Brilliant Career, 1899.
And in April of that year, the Wombeyan Caves were also
seeing cyclists.
WOMBEYAN CAVES. — Quite a large number of visitors passed
through en route to the caves during the holidays, including an unusually large
number of cyclists. Owing to the weather turning wet much inconvenience was
felt by visitors at the utter want of accommodation at the caves, and many
returned much sooner than they would otherwise, and many more were prevented
from going. Matters would be even worse than they are if it were not for the
obliging caretaker, Mr. Chalker, who, I understand, generally takes a “roost”
somewhere in the bush and gives up his own apartment to visitors. Now that new
roads are being made at a huge expense, and every facility afforded to tourists
for visiting the caves, I do hope that something will be done in the way of
increasing the accommodation for them when they arrive. Practically the whole
of the visitors came via Taralga, as the new road is not yet, of course,
passable. I understand about 150 men are engaged working about the caves.
— Goulburn Evening Penny Post (NSW), 15 April 1899, 5, http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/98681602
The bicycle was out of its swaddling clothes: its fifty
years were up, and accidents began to happen:
Bicycle Accident.-Mr. Colin Mackenzie, who some time ago went
in for cycling, met with a severe accident on Sunday evening last, returning
home from Yalbraith Church. When within about three miles of Taralga after
coming down Byrnes’ Hill, Mr. Mackenzie was “coasting,” and when rounding a sharp
turn on the road he ran into the causeway, causing the machine to bump badly,
and the rider was ultimately thrown heavily on his shoulder and head. As a
result the shoulder was badly dislocated, and in addition the head and face
were much cut and bruised. For a time Mr. Mackenzie remained half-conscious,
but fortunately came round and struck out for home, pluckily riding the machine
a part of the way. After much difficulty, Mr. Whiting with assistance managed
to get the shoulder fixed up again, and at the present time Mr. Mackenzie is
progressing favourably though suffering much pain. It was Mr. Mackenzie’s
intention to have gone to Goulburn Sunday morning to hear the Rev. Buchanan
preach, but owing to one of his children being taken suddenly ill, he was compelled
to abandon the trip to Goulburn, and went to Yalbraith instead.
— Goulburn Evening Penny Post (NSW), 1, 12 October 1899. http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/98689887
