A German baron invented the “dandy horse” in 1817 – a frame with two wheels attached to it which served as a human-powered mode of transportation. The bicycles became popular in France and England and, before long, a bicycle craze had taken over America. There were bicycle clubs and bicycle clothes and all number of bicycle agents around the country commanding big money for the trendy contraptions.

In Warwick, just before the turn of the 20th century, Hime & Company were selling Columbia brand bicycles for $100 – a hefty sum when the average American earned about $400 per year. The company played its advertising toward women, announcing that the bicycles were “light and adapted to women’s needs.” It further appealed to the fairer sex by adding in its advertisements “To help solve the problem of proper cycling costume, we have had pre-pared a set of six handsomely lithographed paper dolls.”

For those who couldn’t afford the steep price tag of a new Columbia bicycle, Himes & Company also sold the not-as-good Hartford bicycles for $60 to $80 as well as used, overhauled Columbia bikes. Children’s bicycles could be had for $50.

While the world at large was going wheel-crazy, there were some people who were more irritated than exhilarated about the new means of human transport. One of those people was 64-year-old William Healey Pratt who resided on Centerdale Road in Warwick. In July of 1895, he attended a town council meeting for the purpose of airing his ire regarding local bicycle riders. Pratt told the council that numerous men and women on bikes were incessantly pedaling down the sidewalk in front of his residence and that their presence was monopolizing the walkway.

Pratt explained that the roadway contained a much better surface for bike riding and that there was more room there for the activity. He stated that he had attempted to explain that to several riders who were passing by on the sidewalk and that they responded by hurling vile insults at him. He stated that he had gone so far as to contact police about the matter and that the officer he spoke with – H.C. Budlong – refused to do anything about it.

Budlong stood up before the council and announced that he’d told Pratt he would make arrests if Pratt could provide him with the names of the people biking past his house on the sidewalk, along with the names of other people who had seen them doing so. He told the council that Pratt was only able to provide him with the name of a single rider.

It was decided that Pratt and Officer Budlong would stake out the area of the sidewalk in question the following Sunday afternoon. When Budlong caught the offenders red-handed, arrests would ensue. An uneventful noontime followed as only two bikers passed – both on the opposite side of the road. Before long, it began to rain and the plan of entrapment was abandoned. It was assumed that the publicity which hung over the matter, and the fear of arrest, convinced the bicyclists of Warwick to refrain from pedaling on the sidewalk in front of William Pratt’s house.

Kelly Sullivan is a Rhode Island columnist, lecturer and author.