Eye on History
When Sunday cycling raised a ruckus
By Glen Hancock
The current issue concerning Sunday shopping may seem a matter of great concern to some people, but it is really only another offspring of the democratic process that society has used to establish its mores and conveniences.
It was not long ago that communities in Nova Scotia were quarreling over the admissibility of liquor stores (although taverns were commonplace in Halifax from its very beginning), and while not many people are left to remember it, church congregations once squabbled over the use of musical instruments to accompany the singing of hymns. The history of cultural development abounds with cases where singers refused to perform on Sunday and where Olympic runners would not compete on the Sabbath.
A display on now at the Randall House Museum in Wolfville brings attention to still another contentious moral issue that occupied the public arena more than a century ago -- the riding of bicycles on Sunday!
The first human-propelled vehicle that preceded the motorcar had become a recreational sensation by 1896, and bicycle clubs had started up all over the country. The editor of the Hants Journal in Windsor responded to a New York newspaper that had said: “cycling seems so pure, wholesome and natural, so rich in rational delight, that excuses for Sunday riding come as easy as sinning. The Church and its duties stand no chance against the Sunday wheeling...�
The Windsor editor, living as he did in the cockpit of religious decorum, where whistling, chewing gum, and rolling a hoop were taboo on Sunday, felt obligated to respond by “earnest Christian men and women...have found themselves powerless and baffled in the presence of this new seduction...the pulpit will have to speak and the people will have to free their consciences on the subject.
“It is already dangerous and growing more dangerous...and the question has already arisen...what are we going to do about it?�
Of course, the bicycle itself was a boon to thousands. It was the Sunday thing that caused the uproar.
And what was done about it? Well, nothing.
Sportsmen in Wolfville would not have appreciated any prohibitions action, even from the pulpit. As early as May 1879, the editor of the Acadia Athenaeum endorsed a manual on bicycling, which could teach riders the skills required to get to Kentville and back in an hour.
Local enthusiasts organized a club of prominent townsmen, including George Munro, Capt. G. F. Herbin, W.E. Butler, J.F. Hales, C.R. Borden, H.M. Sleep, W.J. Spurr, A.V. Rand and Burpee Wallace. They took tea at the Lyons Hotel in Kentville and returned to Wolfville. By 1895, “two daring ladies, of about 40 summers,� attracted attention because of the picturesque costumes they wore when they were cycling.
The forerunners of the bicycle had its beginnings as long ago as 1690 when a Frenchman joined two wheels together (the wheel itself goes back to 3,000 years or so before Christ) and sat on the machine, although he had no way to steer it. A practical cycle -- one that could be pedaled and steered -- was invented by a Scotsman named Macmillan in 1839. It had three wheels, the rear wheels being drawn by cranks connected to pedals. Macmillan was fined five pounds for knocking over a child in Glasgow.
The forerunner of the ordinary cycle was the velocipede. It was heavy and difficult to steer. The frame was made of solid iron, the wheels were wood rimmed with an iron band like a wagon wheel. The rider mounted the velocipede by means of a small step above the rear wheel. Pneumatic tires did not appear until Dunlop invented them in 1888.
The handlebars of the “High Wheels� were curved like a cow’s horns. Sitting high above the pedestrians -- the front wheel was higher than a man -- the cyclist was able to reach speeds up to 17 miles an hour on a smooth surface. The front wheel would eventually match the rear wheel and be chain driven. The first ladies bicycles were designed to be ridden sidesaddle.
By the 1920s and 1930s, the bicycle had evolved as it is today and it had become both a cheap means of transportation as well as a sports vehicle. Oldsters will remember the spectacular to the Acadia Relays, when the winner of the marathon bicycle race would enter Raymond Field and spin a couple of laps around the track. The winner was always Charlie Hughes of Avonport.
Charlie Button Hughes was a well-known cycling champion of the period who received numerous awards for his prowess, including the Halifax Herald Trophy in 1926 and 1927, as well as for the 45-mile race in 1928 and 1931, and the Windsor to Wolfville Jubilee race in 1925. The roads were unpaved.
Charlie was born at Diligent River, Cumberland County, in 1906 and died in 1973, after having served with the 88th Anti-aircraft Battery in World War II. A son, Bill, still lives in the area, as well as two daughters, Betty (Mrs. Gerald Jodrey) and Jean (Mrs. Fred Sharpe). None of them ever showed much interest in the bicycle.