D.E. Twitchett presents an idiosyncratic account of man and machine – and how canine instincts influenced the development of the bicycle…
Barking mad how dogs changed the course of cycling history
Arrivée151Spring2021
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HERE WAS A TIME when dogs could sleep undisturbed on the turnpike. The only traffic was horse-drawn, which was slow and infrequent. Occasionally a horse might be ridden at a gallop, but it would see a dog and take avoiding action. This peaceful state of affairs underwent a radical change in 1819 when the first hobby horses began to appear on the nation’s roads. Unlike real horses, hobbies did not have minds of their own. They were entirely under the control (or lack of it) of the rider, and hounds found them a nuisance; so much so that they conspired to rid the roads of them. The hobby horse did not stay long on the scene; probably no more than six months. If one reads any of the various books on cycling history, you will find their demise attributed to the caricaturists of the time who mercilessly lampooned both machines and riders; or alternatively because the riders were prone to ruptures when striding along perched on their hobbies. The former of these reasons I think we can safely dismiss. After almost 70 years involvement in cycling, I can’t recall any individual who would abandon cycling just because some clown drew a cartoon or two. There is however some truth in the
Fig 1. The Hobby Horse of 1819 latter reason, although the various authors do not delve deeply enough, insofar as they do not tell how the hernias occurred. I will now rectify this point. I refer the reader to the maker’s riding instructions as appearing in the caption added to the illustration seen here (fig 1). These instructions were safe when strictly adhered to. However, problems arose if one’s heel happened to land on something soft and slippery. Then the rider’s leg would slip from under him, stretching the groin and resulting in an inguinal hernia. The dogs were left in peace for half a century before a bicycle was seen again on
English roads. Some Regency buck, now an old man, was wallowing in nostalgia one evening in 1869. He recalled his hobbyriding days with affection, and longing for one last ride, set to wondering how this could be accomplished. Slowly an idea came to him. He would attach pedals and cranks to the front axle and be able to drive the machine without his feet touching the ground and thus obviate the possibility of being dogged and ruptured. So was born the old velocipede or boneshaker as it soon was dubbed (fig 2). The boneshaker’s life too was shortlived. The dogs resented the renewed
