Barking mad – how dogs changed the course of history

D.E. Twitchett presents an Barking mad idiosyncratic account of man and machine – and how canine instincts influenced the development of the bicycle… how dogs changed the course of cycling history

THERE 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

Fig 2. The boneshaker or velocipede of 1869

Fig 3. Transitional boneshaker with larger front wheel. disturbance and drove the machines from the roads again. The sight of those cyclists’ legs going vigorously round and round triggered a reflex. The dogs just had to give chase and attempt a bite at the riders’ calves. The dogs just could not help themselves.

A modification was called for and so later models were made with larger front wheels (fig 3) but that made the wooden and iron machines too cumbersome and heavy. Some of the later boneshakers were fitted with leg rests which enabled riders to raise their legs clear of the pedals and out of the reach of the dogs (fig 4). Dogs with a short attention span would then give up but the persistent ones would force the riders to regain the pedals so as not to lose motion

The problem was now once more with the cyclists, but the solution was relatively simple. They would move the pedals higher, out of the reach of snapping curs. This involved the use of a larger two-wheel and some radical alterations in frame design, but the feat was achieved and so the old Victorian high bicycle came into being (fig 5).

It would be with us for some 20 years or more and for some 15 would be the fastest vehicle on English roads. It was true that a few of the larger breeds could still reach but these were rarer and not often seen out loose. When they were encountered, they were dangerous and forced the cyclists into extreme methods of keeping their legs clear of the snapping jaws. Most riders just forsook the pedals and lifted their legs over and onto the handlebars, but some riders went further, to extreme and ridiculous methods as seen in the illustration (fig 6). Fig 5. A high wheeler attack by a larger breed.

At this point in the narrative, I will break from the mainstream of this study to explain that this hostility between dogs and cyclists was restricted to the roads. In other walks of life, they were the best of friends, some say “man’s best friend”, for some time in the dim and distant past the dogs had realised that simply by vigorously oscillating their caudal appendages they could persuade mankind to give them shelter and a free meal-ticket for life. This sponging off the human race was a more preferable way of life than living outdoors and hunting in packs for snacks.

So it came about that the cyclists with their elevated position on the old high bicycles were able to ride in peace for a period. The dogs were certainly bemused for a while and restricted their antics to using the backbones of the machines, when parked, as a substitute tree. During

Fig 6. Extreme methods of removing legs clear of dogs

Fig 7. A high wheeler suffers the two dog attack.

that time the dogs had to be wary again and gave a lot of thought as to how, once more, they could rid the roads of wheelmen.

Slowly and gradually a solution occurred to a few of the more intellectual breeds. As it was no longer possible for a single dog to bring down a cyclist it would be necessary to hunt in pairs (fig 7). One dog would make the cyclist swerve into the path of the other dog, causing the rider to brake hard and thus make a painful and involuntary dismount.

The method of hunting in pairs was only marginally successful, but it was good fun for the canines. Such good fun in fact that others gradually joined in, and so, in a short time, the dogs had reverted to their basic instincts and were once more hunting in packs. That was a very serious problem for the wheelers. However, those educated middle class young men were not short of ideas themselves. To counteract the packs of streetwise mongrels the riders adopted the same tactics and themselves started to ride in packs (fig 8). They called themselves clubs and some of those early clubs still exist today.

The Cyclists’ Touring Club in the UK and the League of American Wheelmen across the pond are notable examples. There is safety in numbers and so the dogs were restricted to picking off one laggard or outside rider. To stop that practice the clubmen thought up another wheeze. Every club employed a bugler within their ranks (fig 9). These buglers made such a noise with their instruments that the dogs all fled droop-tailed to the nearest hiding place. Thus did the riders enjoy a dog-free spell for a few years until one sad day a pack of hounds mistook the bugles for a Fig 8. The beginning of the pack dogs and cycling clubs.

hunting horn and a complete club was decimated.

That tragedy took the cyclists back to the drawing board and the rear-driven safety bicycle was devised. The saddle was low down within easy reach of the dogs, it is true, but by a judicious arrangement of chain and cog wheels the rear driving wheel could be geared-up and made to go much faster than the old high wheelers.

It was thought that the clubmen would then be able to outsprint the dogs. They christened this machine “Rover” (fig 10). That was akin to giving the dogs the two-fingered salute, for prior to that time the name had been exclusively appended to favoured pet dogs. Sometime later it was attached to football and cricket clubs without a pitch, necessitating all their matches to be played on opponent’s grounds. But I digress.

The dogs could now attack at leisure with the riders’ legs again within reach (fig 11). The bugle remained the only defence for a few years until a genius called Macarthy improved the rear-driven safety by re-designing the frame and adding suspension. This machine, faster than the Rover, was christened Whippet (fig 12) in an attempt to convince the canine population that it was faster than all other dogs. It was thought that the extra speed would enable the dogs to be left behind but unfortunately, once more, it was not so.

The Whippet’s speed was legendary, but it retained the one historic fault to be found in all previous bicycles and all subsequent machines too. Bicycle designers, frame builders and large-scale manufacturers have all failed to eliminate this fault. I refer of course to the fact that the machines work well enough in the morning but inexplicably slow down after lunch, and around teatime can hardly be made to go above the proverbial snail’s pace.

Teatime was when the cyclists were easy prey. The term “dog tired” entered the language at this point to describe the condition. So many riders were attacked near the end of a long day in the saddle that for a time cycling became not only a seasonal sport but also a morning-only exercise like mushroom gathering.

It will perhaps have been noted that throughout this protracted battle between the human and canine populations it was the dogs who were the aggressors, while the riders used avoidance tactics and guile for survival. That was to change. From the advent of the pneumatic tyre in 1888 to its

Fig 10. The Rover bicycle.

Fig 11. A dog chases a Safety bicycle.

regular use on the roads from about 1892, the cyclists carried weapons. John Boyd Dunlop was a vet, so he knew all about dogs and the best way to handle them. The big advantage of his new sausage tyres was not the oft-quoted speed and comfort but the secondary use to which the inflator could be put. Any hound foolish enough to go for a rider’s legs would receive a sharp rap across the nose from the heavy brass pump of those days.

The advent of the pneumatic tyre also gave thought in other directions. There were many cyclists with 15 to 20 years of riding experience who were reluctant to give up the high wheelers. They could see over the hedges from them and were proud of their superior skill when compared with the safety bicycle riders. They seized their opportunity and applied the air tyre to the high wheel concept. The pneumatic front driver (fig13) was the result and of course it needed more air in the tyre than the smaller wheels. That resulted in a much larger pump with which to clout the dogs. Eureka!! However, the pneumatic front driver did not last long, doubtless due to the added exertion when inflating and a greater area for locating punctures.

Other weapons employed at that time were ammonia pistols and perhaps the best of all because it was natural, was to train one’s own dog to be a fierce combatant and take him with you. In those motorless days it was possible for a cyclist to tour with his pooch running along behind and willing to take on any rural cur looking for a scrap. That last method became obsolete of course when the motors proliferated. While the dogs could win against the cyclists they always came second when chasing motors.

The problem was finally solved when tricycle design eventually settled down to the familiar design with two rear wheels and one front (fig 14). The back wheel gets the dog before the dog gets the rider. Although motors and legislation forbidding loose dogs almost solved the problem, for it barely exists today, tricycles are still ridden by a minority of riders. They are all nervous of dogs.

Fig 13. Pneumatic high wheeler with longer inflator.