Chapter One Mad About the Bike Cambridge Mob Rule It is May 21, 1897, and a large, raucous crowd of male students-- some armed with eggs and fireworks--have gathered in Cam bridge''s medieval Market Square. A few women students, looking a bit apprehensive, stand at the edge of the crowd. Above everyone''s heads, suspended from the secondfloor window of a bookshop facing the university senate, hangs an effigy of a woman on a bicycle dressed in a blouse and bloomers. Why is she here and why is there a mob of undergraduates swarming below her? They had all gathered to await a decision from the university''s senate, which had been debating a proposal to grant full degrees to women studying at the university. Although they had been attending and sitting exams at the womenonly colleges of Girton, Newnham and Hughes Hall since the late 1860s, women were not entitled to be awarded degrees at the end of their studies; they also had to ask permission from a professor before attending their lectures and were not considered full members of the university. While they could just about study, they could not graduate--though they were in a slightly better position than their predecessors in the 1860s, those first five female students who had to study thirty miles away, lest their presence upset the male students. The protestors outside the senate were not challenging the gross unfairness and inequality of the situation, they were outraged at the possibility that the proposal might be passed, even though other universities in the U.K.

were already awarding degrees to men and women on an equal basis. The proposal was so divisive that extra trains had been put on from London to enable graduates to return to cast their vote. Many held aloft placards that made their feelings clear, such as "No Gowns for Girtonites" and "Varsity for Men." When the news broke that the Senate had rejected the pro posal, with 661 voting in favor and 1,707 against, the male students'' delight was palpable. They tore down the effigy in a frenzy, ripping off her head and tearing her body into pieces before posting her remains through the gates of Newnham College. The women students locked inside--disgusted and possibly terrified--looked on as a mob tried to break down the gates. As far as these men were concerned, they were the moral victors; women needed to know their place and stop making outrageous demands that were encroaching on male privileges. It was another fifty years before women would be granted degrees at Cambridge on equal terms to men--the last university to hold out against the tide of change.

It wasn''t until 1988 that the last of its allmale colleges accepted women, and once again the male students protested--though less violently this time--by donning black armbands and flying their flag at halfmast. To understand why the 1897 protest targeted that female cycling effigy, we need to trace two movements that intersected in the runup to that raucous event. One was the emergence of the "New Woman"--the term for feminists who, in short, wanted to throw off the restrictive shackles imposed by lateVictorian patriarchy and were demanding the same social and political rights as men, as well as educations and careers: women who many thought were trying to inhabit spaces or partake in activities that should be the sole preserve and prerogative of men. This was to be an important decade in the history of feminism that had been building since at least the late eighteenth century, with the publication of Mary Wollstonecraft''s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), and that would ultimately evolve into the largescale movements for suffrage in the early part of the twentieth century. The other was the "bike boom," triggered by the invention of a new type of bicycle. This was a time when interest in cycling was at its absolute peak, becoming a mass activity in Western Europe and North America, not least with women, who took it up in droves. First, though, we must understand the revolutionary potential of this new machine, and why some men were intent on keeping it for themselves. Two-Wheeled Genesis In 1885, Coventry''s Starley & Sutton company launched a new bicycle called the Rover Safety.

It wasn''t the first bicycle, but it was the one that would stand the test of time and have the most seismic impact, its basic design forming the blueprint for the machines we ride today. Although the reverberations of this unveiling weren''t felt immediately, with some tweaks and refinements it would become the musthave accessory of the following decade. Looking at pictures of bicycles before the launch of the Safety, it''s easy to see why they were superseded. The first was designed by German inventor Baron Karl von Drais, who had set out to create a horseless carriage and launched his "Laufmaschine," or "RunningMachine," in 1817. "Running" was the pivotal word, as that was exactly what the rider was required to do on a contraption that was essentially two carriage wheels joined together by a wooden plank, with a cushioned seat for the rider and a rudimentary steering mechanism. The rider propelled the machine by running along the ground while seated. Apart from looking quite silly, this wasn''t an easy thing to do when going uphill, and the absence of brakes didn''t make the downhill any more comfortable. But the appetite for a selfpropelled wheeled device, pre-motor age, was clearly there; in spite of its drawbacks, and high price tag, it was soon seen in fashionable cities such as London, Paris and New York.

But as a craze it was shortlived; the novelty of running along while seated--wearing quickly through the soles of the rider''s shoes--was destined to have limited appeal.* In the years between Drais''s invention and the Rover Safety in 1885, countless aspiring bike builders had a go at improving on the concept. But it wasn''t until 1867 that the first pedalpowered bicycle rolled onto the scene in Paris. This muchimproved machine designed by Pierre Michaux, a Parisian blacksmith, featured pedals attached to the hub of the front wheel--no more running! Despite the prohibitive cost (250 francs, nearly $1,600 today), velocipedes became a relatively common sight in France and beyond. Michaux''s machine has since been dubbed "the boneshaker" because of the deleterious effect the alliron frame and wooden wheels had on the rider, with airfilled rubber tires still a few decades away. It became a popular pastime for a few years with those who could afford one. Theater and circus performers incorporated the machine into their acts, and the more competitive enthusiasts took part in the world''s first organized bike races. As inventors worldwide competed to refine this new style of twowheeler, patent offices were deluged with variations on Michaux''s theme.

In the 1870s, the craze for the boneshaker was eclipsed by the arrival of the "highwheeler" or "Ordinary." Perhaps the most emblematic of all Victorianera inventions, with the cyclist perched above an enormous front wheel and a diminutive rear wheel providing counterbalance. Its British name of "pennyfarthing" comes from the wheels, which resemble a large penny coin and more diminutive farthing. The design now looks so outlandish and impractical it seems it must have been invented by someone with a loose grasp of reality. Yet there was something about this strange new beast that stuck, at least for the few decades after 1871 when Starley & Sutton put their model on the market with its 48inch big wheel. This new bike was also much lighter and, perhaps most important to many, it was remarkably nippy. Even without the luxury of airfilled tires, the oversized front wheel meant the rider was much farther from the lumps, bumps and ruts that were endemic of roads at that time. As the decade progressed the wheels continued to expand and speeds increased, with riders competing in races that attracted large crowds and where they were soon busting the threeminute mile, as well as covering progressively longer distances.

Demand grew so great that by 1880 there were over a hundred Ordinary manufacturers in the U.K., with consumers in the United States--after overcoming some initial skepticism--no less enthu siastic. One convert was Thomas Stevens, an emigrant from the U.K., who in 1884 became the first to cross the United States on two wheels when he rode a U.S.made Columbia Ordinary from San Francisco to Boston.

That was just the start of Thomas''s cycle adventuring, and the following year he set off from London, cycling through Europe, the Middle East, China and Japan, to become the first to pedal around the world. You may be wondering why the evolution of the bicycle didn''t stop with the Ordinary if it had so much going for it. First, they were dangerous: it was a long way to climb up onto the saddle, and a long way to fall, and falling was an occupational hazard for the highwheel enthusiast. Even for experienced riders, strong winds, ruts in the road and other obstacles (such as fellow cyclists who''d hit the deck) could prove deadly. Serious head injuries--dubbed a "cropper," "header" or "imperial crowner"-- were common, and were enough to stop most from giving it a go. The tag many of its detractors gave it as "a young man''s game" is telling, and even then, it was only a certain type of young man who was willing to put up with the bicycle''s potentially fatal design quirks. It also wasn''t inexpensi.