Arjay 1863-1924 R Mecredy
Arjay had a sound influence on the popularity of the pneumatic tyre
A brilliant commercial idea, invention or novelty is of no value until somebody who believes in it puts his money where his mouth is and places it before the public. Lots has been written about the pneumatic tyre, an 1888 brainchild usually credited to John Boyd Dunlop, a Scottish vet who lived on Dublin's Morehampton Road, or, if you are pedantic, patented by R.W. Thomson, another Scot, back in 1846. Thomson, of course, never made or sold his novelty. And while Dunlop manufactured it and turned it into a practicality, he needed backing to succeed. And the man who backed the invention and who put it firmly in the public eye was a forgotten Irishman, R.J. Mecredy, who was the son of a Scot. One of Dunlop's most important factories of course, was in Cork. Finally, the man who put paid to the whole Dunlop saga and presided over its collapse and sale was yet another Scot, Campbell Fraser, whose death last month brought all this to mind, as well as being the final chapter in the story.
Mecredy's interest in tyres was extraordinarily prescient, as it predated the arrival of the motor car. His passion for cycling led him to recognise immediately the potential benefits of the tyre, and as well as enthusiastically joining the first consortium to make and sell the Dunlop product, he also published The Irish Cyclist, the first journal of its kind in the world, which was an enormous success, and which led the runaway sales of the new-fangled tyres.
Richard James Mecredy was born in Ballinasloe, Co Galway, in May 1861, son of the Church of Ireland rector oflnveran, near Spiddal in Co Galway. By 1882 he had become a solicitor's apprentice in Merrion Square, Dublin, but the law seems to have held little interest for him. The publisher of the Irish Cyclist and Athlete, a Mr J.G. Hodgins ofTralee, Co Kerry, contacted Mecredy, then a very successful amateur racing cyclist, and asked him to act as Dublin Cycling Correspondent of his paper, and Mecredy took the job at a wage of thirteen shillings and fourpence a week (about 82 Cents in today's money) A year later he had taken it over as proprietor and editor, renaming it the Irish Cyclist. And it was still a roaring success (renamed again as the Irish Cyclist and Motorcyclisf} in 1924 when Mecredy died.
Mecredy was an extremely tall and gangling figure, probably the perfect cycling physique for the machines of his day. Contemporary cartoons and caricatures of Mecredy show a stick-like figure labelled "Arjay", dressed in button-boots and tweeds, and towering over his companions at cycling and motor shows in Dublin. Combining the affability of his Irish mother with the conservative business acumen of his Scottish forbears on his father's side, Mecredy was both liked and respected.
Among the many hobby horses he rode during his writing career was a plan for an alcohol-fuelled Irish Grand Poteen-style motor race, proposed in another of his publications, the Motor News. That was back in 1904, predating the current "biofuel" frenzy by a century. This, he felt, would not only provide a home-grown market for the (then) surplus potato crop, but would put Ireland firmly on the international motor sport map. That never happened, but the fanatical de Valera-inspired isolationism of the 1930s did throw up a state-owned alcohol distillery in Co Louth. Oil companies were forced by law to add a fixed proportion of the biofuel to their petrol at the pumps. When that compulsion ended recently the plant was privatised, and is better known now as the Cooley Distillery, producing whiskey and other tonics.
But Mecredy's big contribution was to the advancement of the tyre business. He supported the Du Cros family, who put up the money for the Dunlop consortium, and enthusiastically campaigned for the new products, and was a director of the Pneumatic Tyre company. He was also one of the first car owners in Ireland, and a founder member of the Irish Roads Improvement Association, which fought for new highway building and surface improvements. His prowess as a racing cyclist was formidable. In 1890 he had travelled to London to compete in the National Cyclists' Union championships, and won all four of the events. His home at Vallombrosa, near Bray, Co Wicklow, from which he cycled 13 miles into the city each day, was stuffed with souvenirs and trophys of his cycling career. He also wrote several books on cycling and touring in Ireland.
Sadly, the troubles of 1916-22 took their toll ofMecredy and his business. His offices were burned down, and he fled to Scotland, where he died in April 1924, just short of his sixty-third birthday. By chance, a piece about Mecredy in the Daily Telegraph in 1996 brought a letter from his grandson, Robin Mecredy, who lives in Buckinghamshire. He had been looking for an Irish home for the memorabilia collected by his grandfather, including his cycling trophies. 1 put him in touch with the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, which has the best collection of Irish transport exhibits, including many rescued from scrapyards in the Republic, and which seemed the best resting place for them. The Mecredy collection was duly presented to the Museum in 2004.
Much more recently, I heard from Robin Mecredy that he had finally found his grandfather's grave, in Dumfries High Cemetery in Scotland. The Scottish Dunlop connection has come full circle, it seems.
The pneumatic tyre
A brilliant commercial idea, invention or novelty is of no value until somebody who believes in it puts his money where his mouth is and places it before the public. Lots has been written about the pneumatic tyre, an 1888 brainchild usually credited to John Boyd Dunlop, a Scottish vet who lived on Dublin's Morehampton Road, or, if you are pedantic, patented by R.W. Thomson, another Scot, back in 1846. Thomson, of course, never made or sold his novelty. And while Dunlop manufactured it and turned it into a practicality, he needed backing to succeed. And the man who backed the invention and who put it firmly in the public eye was a forgotten Irishman, R.J. Mecredy, who was the son of a Scot. One of Dunlop's most important factories of course, was in Cork. Finally, the man who put paid to the whole Dunlop saga and presided over its collapse and sale was yet another Scot, Campbell Fraser, whose death last month brought all this to mind, as well as being the final chapter in the story.
Mecredy's interest in tyres was extraordinarily prescient, as it predated the arrival of the motor car. His passion for cycling led him to recognise immediately the potential benefits of the tyre, and as well as enthusiastically joining the first consortium to make and sell the Dunlop product, he also published The Irish Cyclist, the first journal of its kind in the world, which was an enormous success, and which led the runaway sales of the new-fangled tyres.
Richard James Mecredy was born in Ballinasloe, Co Galway, in May 1861, son of the Church of Ireland rector oflnveran, near Spiddal in Co Galway. By 1882 he had become a solicitor's apprentice in Merrion Square, Dublin, but the law seems to have held little interest for him. The publisher of the Irish Cyclist and Athlete, a Mr J.G. Hodgins ofTralee, Co Kerry, contacted Mecredy, then a very successful amateur racing cyclist, and asked him to act as Dublin Cycling Correspondent of his paper, and Mecredy took the job at a wage of thirteen shillings and fourpence a week (about 82 Cents in today's money) A year later he had taken it over as proprietor and editor, renaming it the Irish Cyclist. And it was still a roaring success (renamed again as the Irish Cyclist and Motorcyclisf} in 1924 when Mecredy died.
Mecredy was an extremely tall and gangling figure, probably the perfect cycling physique for the machines of his day. Contemporary cartoons and caricatures of Mecredy show a stick-like figure labelled "Arjay", dressed in button-boots and tweeds, and towering over his companions at cycling and motor shows in Dublin. Combining the affability of his Irish mother with the conservative business acumen of his Scottish forbears on his father's side, Mecredy was both liked and respected.
Among the many hobby horses he rode during his writing career was a plan for an alcohol-fuelled Irish Grand Poteen-style motor race, proposed in another of his publications, the Motor News. That was back in 1904, predating the current "biofuel" frenzy by a century. This, he felt, would not only provide a home-grown market for the (then) surplus potato crop, but would put Ireland firmly on the international motor sport map. That never happened, but the fanatical de Valera-inspired isolationism of the 1930s did throw up a state-owned alcohol distillery in Co Louth. Oil companies were forced by law to add a fixed proportion of the biofuel to their petrol at the pumps. When that compulsion ended recently the plant was privatised, and is better known now as the Cooley Distillery, producing whiskey and other tonics.
But Mecredy's big contribution was to the advancement of the tyre business. He supported the Du Cros family, who put up the money for the Dunlop consortium, and enthusiastically campaigned for the new products, and was a director of the Pneumatic Tyre company. He was also one of the first car owners in Ireland, and a founder member of the Irish Roads Improvement Association, which fought for new highway building and surface improvements. His prowess as a racing cyclist was formidable. In 1890 he had travelled to London to compete in the National Cyclists' Union championships, and won all four of the events. His home at Vallombrosa, near Bray, Co Wicklow, from which he cycled 13 miles into the city each day, was stuffed with souvenirs and trophys of his cycling career. He also wrote several books on cycling and touring in Ireland.
Sadly, the troubles of 1916-22 took their toll ofMecredy and his business. His offices were burned down, and he fled to Scotland, where he died in April 1924, just short of his sixty-third birthday. By chance, a piece about Mecredy in the Daily Telegraph in 1996 brought a letter from his grandson, Robin Mecredy, who lives in Buckinghamshire. He had been looking for an Irish home for the memorabilia collected by his grandfather, including his cycling trophies. 1 put him in touch with the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, which has the best collection of Irish transport exhibits, including many rescued from scrapyards in the Republic, and which seemed the best resting place for them. The Mecredy collection was duly presented to the Museum in 2004.
Much more recently, I heard from Robin Mecredy that he had finally found his grandfather's grave, in Dumfries High Cemetery in Scotland. The Scottish Dunlop connection has come full circle, it seems.
www.flickr.com/photos/robinhutton/32659789055/in/photostr...
Arjay 1863-1924 R Mecredy
Arjay had a sound influence on the popularity of the pneumatic tyre
A brilliant commercial idea, invention or novelty is of no value until somebody who believes in it puts his money where his mouth is and places it before the public. Lots has been written about the pneumatic tyre, an 1888 brainchild usually credited to John Boyd Dunlop, a Scottish vet who lived on Dublin's Morehampton Road, or, if you are pedantic, patented by R.W. Thomson, another Scot, back in 1846. Thomson, of course, never made or sold his novelty. And while Dunlop manufactured it and turned it into a practicality, he needed backing to succeed. And the man who backed the invention and who put it firmly in the public eye was a forgotten Irishman, R.J. Mecredy, who was the son of a Scot. One of Dunlop's most important factories of course, was in Cork. Finally, the man who put paid to the whole Dunlop saga and presided over its collapse and sale was yet another Scot, Campbell Fraser, whose death last month brought all this to mind, as well as being the final chapter in the story.
Mecredy's interest in tyres was extraordinarily prescient, as it predated the arrival of the motor car. His passion for cycling led him to recognise immediately the potential benefits of the tyre, and as well as enthusiastically joining the first consortium to make and sell the Dunlop product, he also published The Irish Cyclist, the first journal of its kind in the world, which was an enormous success, and which led the runaway sales of the new-fangled tyres.
Richard James Mecredy was born in Ballinasloe, Co Galway, in May 1861, son of the Church of Ireland rector oflnveran, near Spiddal in Co Galway. By 1882 he had become a solicitor's apprentice in Merrion Square, Dublin, but the law seems to have held little interest for him. The publisher of the Irish Cyclist and Athlete, a Mr J.G. Hodgins ofTralee, Co Kerry, contacted Mecredy, then a very successful amateur racing cyclist, and asked him to act as Dublin Cycling Correspondent of his paper, and Mecredy took the job at a wage of thirteen shillings and fourpence a week (about 82 Cents in today's money) A year later he had taken it over as proprietor and editor, renaming it the Irish Cyclist. And it was still a roaring success (renamed again as the Irish Cyclist and Motorcyclisf} in 1924 when Mecredy died.
Mecredy was an extremely tall and gangling figure, probably the perfect cycling physique for the machines of his day. Contemporary cartoons and caricatures of Mecredy show a stick-like figure labelled "Arjay", dressed in button-boots and tweeds, and towering over his companions at cycling and motor shows in Dublin. Combining the affability of his Irish mother with the conservative business acumen of his Scottish forbears on his father's side, Mecredy was both liked and respected.
Among the many hobby horses he rode during his writing career was a plan for an alcohol-fuelled Irish Grand Poteen-style motor race, proposed in another of his publications, the Motor News. That was back in 1904, predating the current "biofuel" frenzy by a century. This, he felt, would not only provide a home-grown market for the (then) surplus potato crop, but would put Ireland firmly on the international motor sport map. That never happened, but the fanatical de Valera-inspired isolationism of the 1930s did throw up a state-owned alcohol distillery in Co Louth. Oil companies were forced by law to add a fixed proportion of the biofuel to their petrol at the pumps. When that compulsion ended recently the plant was privatised, and is better known now as the Cooley Distillery, producing whiskey and other tonics.
But Mecredy's big contribution was to the advancement of the tyre business. He supported the Du Cros family, who put up the money for the Dunlop consortium, and enthusiastically campaigned for the new products, and was a director of the Pneumatic Tyre company. He was also one of the first car owners in Ireland, and a founder member of the Irish Roads Improvement Association, which fought for new highway building and surface improvements. His prowess as a racing cyclist was formidable. In 1890 he had travelled to London to compete in the National Cyclists' Union championships, and won all four of the events. His home at Vallombrosa, near Bray, Co Wicklow, from which he cycled 13 miles into the city each day, was stuffed with souvenirs and trophys of his cycling career. He also wrote several books on cycling and touring in Ireland.
Sadly, the troubles of 1916-22 took their toll ofMecredy and his business. His offices were burned down, and he fled to Scotland, where he died in April 1924, just short of his sixty-third birthday. By chance, a piece about Mecredy in the Daily Telegraph in 1996 brought a letter from his grandson, Robin Mecredy, who lives in Buckinghamshire. He had been looking for an Irish home for the memorabilia collected by his grandfather, including his cycling trophies. 1 put him in touch with the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, which has the best collection of Irish transport exhibits, including many rescued from scrapyards in the Republic, and which seemed the best resting place for them. The Mecredy collection was duly presented to the Museum in 2004.
Much more recently, I heard from Robin Mecredy that he had finally found his grandfather's grave, in Dumfries High Cemetery in Scotland. The Scottish Dunlop connection has come full circle, it seems.
The pneumatic tyre
A brilliant commercial idea, invention or novelty is of no value until somebody who believes in it puts his money where his mouth is and places it before the public. Lots has been written about the pneumatic tyre, an 1888 brainchild usually credited to John Boyd Dunlop, a Scottish vet who lived on Dublin's Morehampton Road, or, if you are pedantic, patented by R.W. Thomson, another Scot, back in 1846. Thomson, of course, never made or sold his novelty. And while Dunlop manufactured it and turned it into a practicality, he needed backing to succeed. And the man who backed the invention and who put it firmly in the public eye was a forgotten Irishman, R.J. Mecredy, who was the son of a Scot. One of Dunlop's most important factories of course, was in Cork. Finally, the man who put paid to the whole Dunlop saga and presided over its collapse and sale was yet another Scot, Campbell Fraser, whose death last month brought all this to mind, as well as being the final chapter in the story.
Mecredy's interest in tyres was extraordinarily prescient, as it predated the arrival of the motor car. His passion for cycling led him to recognise immediately the potential benefits of the tyre, and as well as enthusiastically joining the first consortium to make and sell the Dunlop product, he also published The Irish Cyclist, the first journal of its kind in the world, which was an enormous success, and which led the runaway sales of the new-fangled tyres.
Richard James Mecredy was born in Ballinasloe, Co Galway, in May 1861, son of the Church of Ireland rector oflnveran, near Spiddal in Co Galway. By 1882 he had become a solicitor's apprentice in Merrion Square, Dublin, but the law seems to have held little interest for him. The publisher of the Irish Cyclist and Athlete, a Mr J.G. Hodgins ofTralee, Co Kerry, contacted Mecredy, then a very successful amateur racing cyclist, and asked him to act as Dublin Cycling Correspondent of his paper, and Mecredy took the job at a wage of thirteen shillings and fourpence a week (about 82 Cents in today's money) A year later he had taken it over as proprietor and editor, renaming it the Irish Cyclist. And it was still a roaring success (renamed again as the Irish Cyclist and Motorcyclisf} in 1924 when Mecredy died.
Mecredy was an extremely tall and gangling figure, probably the perfect cycling physique for the machines of his day. Contemporary cartoons and caricatures of Mecredy show a stick-like figure labelled "Arjay", dressed in button-boots and tweeds, and towering over his companions at cycling and motor shows in Dublin. Combining the affability of his Irish mother with the conservative business acumen of his Scottish forbears on his father's side, Mecredy was both liked and respected.
Among the many hobby horses he rode during his writing career was a plan for an alcohol-fuelled Irish Grand Poteen-style motor race, proposed in another of his publications, the Motor News. That was back in 1904, predating the current "biofuel" frenzy by a century. This, he felt, would not only provide a home-grown market for the (then) surplus potato crop, but would put Ireland firmly on the international motor sport map. That never happened, but the fanatical de Valera-inspired isolationism of the 1930s did throw up a state-owned alcohol distillery in Co Louth. Oil companies were forced by law to add a fixed proportion of the biofuel to their petrol at the pumps. When that compulsion ended recently the plant was privatised, and is better known now as the Cooley Distillery, producing whiskey and other tonics.
But Mecredy's big contribution was to the advancement of the tyre business. He supported the Du Cros family, who put up the money for the Dunlop consortium, and enthusiastically campaigned for the new products, and was a director of the Pneumatic Tyre company. He was also one of the first car owners in Ireland, and a founder member of the Irish Roads Improvement Association, which fought for new highway building and surface improvements. His prowess as a racing cyclist was formidable. In 1890 he had travelled to London to compete in the National Cyclists' Union championships, and won all four of the events. His home at Vallombrosa, near Bray, Co Wicklow, from which he cycled 13 miles into the city each day, was stuffed with souvenirs and trophys of his cycling career. He also wrote several books on cycling and touring in Ireland.
Sadly, the troubles of 1916-22 took their toll ofMecredy and his business. His offices were burned down, and he fled to Scotland, where he died in April 1924, just short of his sixty-third birthday. By chance, a piece about Mecredy in the Daily Telegraph in 1996 brought a letter from his grandson, Robin Mecredy, who lives in Buckinghamshire. He had been looking for an Irish home for the memorabilia collected by his grandfather, including his cycling trophies. 1 put him in touch with the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, which has the best collection of Irish transport exhibits, including many rescued from scrapyards in the Republic, and which seemed the best resting place for them. The Mecredy collection was duly presented to the Museum in 2004.
Much more recently, I heard from Robin Mecredy that he had finally found his grandfather's grave, in Dumfries High Cemetery in Scotland. The Scottish Dunlop connection has come full circle, it seems.
www.flickr.com/photos/robinhutton/32659789055/in/photostr...