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The fatest bicycle Rider in the world

velovi — 2023-12-01T11:01:48Z

The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World, an autobiography by Marshall W. « Major » Taylor, Wormley publishing Company, Worcester, 1928

Turning the tables on Jacquelin, the french idol Paris

velovi — 2023-12-01T10:45:13Z

The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World, an autobiography by Marshall W. « Major » Taylor, Wormley publishing Company, Worcester, 1928

After having competed in ten races in the various sections of Europe I was called upon for the feature event of the tour—the match race with the French champion Edmond Jacquelin. This race of races was held at the "Parc du Princess" in Paris on May 16, 1901.
At the time of this match I felt I was in excellent physical condition for the big fuss and desired only a warm day for the race. I was doomed for a disappointment, however, because the day was cold and raw and despite the fact that I wore an extra heavy sweater I shivered as I took my warming-up trips over the track. The fates had also decreed that I was to be beaten on this occasion by the great Jacquelin and I took my reverse gracefully. I offered no excuses.

Edmond Jacquelin—Champion of France

Edmond Jacquelin—Champion of France

Although Jacquelin defeated me in our first meeting I learned a very valuable lesson while he was turning the trick. That was that Jacquelin's well-known mental hazard (that deadly jump) through which he gained his margin of victory in most of his races availed him naught when he pulled it on me. From experience I learned that try as he might Jacquelin couldn't jump away from me and in each of our heats I was right at his rear wheel as we crossed the finishing line. Incidently, I realized that Jacquelin was as good a rider as I had heard him proclaimed and that with a warmer sun and balmier air I could have given a far better account of myself.

Major Taylor—Champion of America

At the conclusion of the second and deciding heat of our match race Jacquelin astonished me by his childish antics. He was so carried away with his victory over me that he lost his head completely and thumbed his nose at me immediately after crossing the tape all the way around the track. As I stood bewildered by Jacquelin's actions his thousands of friends and admirers poured out of the grandstands and carried him about the track on their shoulders. In all my experience on the tracks of this country and Europe I had never before suffered such humiliation as Jacquelin's insult caused me.
However, Jacquelin's conduct was to react as a boomerang. I was hurt to the quick by his unsportsmanlike conduct and resolved then and there that I would not return home until I had wiped out his insult. My opportunity to square the balances came in a fortnight and I did little else but plan for that race in the interim. I made up my mind that I would lead Jacquelin home in this championship match race by such a margin that there would be no doubt, even in his mind, as to who was the better rider.
So on May 27 I had planned my campaign in a way that I figured would bring the best results. I was in prime condition for this race and was still further favored with a hot day. So pleased was I at the weather conditions that I felt this was going to be my day.

Start of First Heat of Second Grand Challenge Match

Upwards of thirty thousand eager, impatient bicycle race enthusiasts greeted Jacquelin and I with a storm of applause as we came out to face the starter. The Frenchman had his same arrogant smile as he mounted his wheel. As we rode slowly from the tape in the first heat there was great cheering. After some maneuvering Jacquelin and I tried to force each other into the lead. In so doing both of us came to a dead stop. We were practically side by side, Jacquelin being slightly ahead. Balancing a few moments, I backed slowly half a revolution of my crank until I brought myself directly behind Jacquelin. That's just where I wanted to be. The grandstands were now in a frenzy. Realizing I had outmaneuvered him on this score Jacquelin laughed outright and moved off in the lead prepared for business.
I was so satisfied that I could bring him into camp on this occasion that I again allowed him to ride his own race. I played right into his hands and actually permitted him to start his famous jump from his favorite distance, about two hundred fifty yards from the tape. However, I was very careful to jump at the same instant and the sprint down that long straight stretch must have been magnificent. Jacquelin was four lengths behind when I dashed across the tape. The applause was deafening.
Twenty minutes later we were called out for our second heat. It proved to be the final heat, as per my plans. I worked in a bit of psychology after both of us had mounted and were strapped in. I reached over and extended my hand to Jacquelin and he took it with a great show of surprise. Under the circumstances he could not have refused to shake hands with me.

Hand Shake—Start of Second and Last Match

I knew from the expression on his face that he was well aware That Bewilderingof the fact that my hand-shake was a demonstration of sarcasm pure and simple. My motive was to impress on Jacquelin that I was so positive that I could defeat him again that this was going to be the last heat. Followers of boxing will recognize my action as a parallel to what happens at the boxers' meet at the start of the final round. As the French idol gathered the full significance of my gesture he mumbled something, shrugged his shoulders, and set his jaw. His sneering smile disappeared and a frown encompassed his face.

No sooner had the starter's gun sent us away than Jacquelin seriously accepted the lead without the usual jockeying. However, as we came to the last quarter I took the lead and with two hundred fifty yards left to go we tore off the steep banking together, and as we entered the home stretch and dashed for the tape, I kicked away from him—the resentment I bore towards Jacquelin for the insult he offered me serving to pace me as I never had been paced before. When I crossed the finish line Jacquelin was again four lengths behind.

As I crossed the tape I quickly pulled a small, silk American flag from my belt and waved it vigorously in front of the vulgar Jacquelin while we circled the track. Meantime the people were howling their approval and tossing their hats into the air as I deftly turned the tables on the French hero. It appeared that the vast audience, although stunned for the moment by my victory over their idol, were delighted to have me take some of the conceit out of him. They were also elated at the method I pursued to even up the insult he had offered me at the close of our first match. Jacquelin was severely censored by the press and public for his ungentlemanly conduct. He made a gesture that was merely a military salute, so I thought it only fair and quite proper to return my salute in this manner as ample revenge for his insult.

My « Military » Salute

Meantime the band struck up the « Star Spangled Banner » as I rode my lap of honor with a big bouquet of roses on my shoulder which were symbolic of my victory. Hundreds of Americans poured onto the track and gave me a splendid ovation as did thousands of natives, men and women. This was my greatest triumph in Paris.

The hardest fought match race of my career, Agen France

velovi — 2023-12-01T10:17:26Z

The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World, an autobiography by Marshall W. « Major » Taylor, Wormley publishing Company, Worcester, 1928

Just three weeks to a day from the date of the Copenhagen fiasco Elleggarde and I hooked up in our revenge match race at Agen. It proved to be the hardest match race that I ever competed in Elleggarde was determined to wipe out the stain of his fluke victory over me in Copenhagen, while I was out to prove that I would have led him home in that race only for the accident to my tire, had he been sportsman enough to ride it over again after I had been painfully hurt in the last lap.
The Agen track was a beautiful course, built of concrete and measured three laps to the mile. Ideal racing weather greeted Elleggarde and I as we went to the starting line, while the immense throng gathered about the track gave us a rousing reception. It was apparent that all hands wanted the better man to win this momentous race and I knew that the French bicycle enthusiasts would acclaim the winner regardless of whom he proved to be, provided he won the race on merit alone.
The first heat was paced by single riders—which was just to my liking. However, I was greatly surprised when Elleggarde led me home in this dash by six or eight inches in a manner that left no doubt in the minds of all who saw the race as to who was who. After a brief rest we came out for the second heat which was unpaced. This time Elleggarde appeared to be more confident and determined than I had ever seen him before. I decided to ride a different style of race this time and we fought it out for a full lap, neck and neck, with a heart-breaking finish down the home stretch and right over the tape. I had just about the same advantage over Elleggarde in this heat that he had on me in our first heat, not more than half a foot. There was great excitement.
startofthdecidingheat

Then came the most trying test of all, the one that would tell the story, and settle for all time the question of supremacy between Elleggarde and myself. Incidentally, I felt positive that this heat would decide two matches simultaneously—my race with Elleggarde in Copenhagen as well as the current one and judging from the way he rode this race in Agen he must have felt the same way. It was a grudge fight and there was no friendly hand-shaking either before or after our heats on this track. The enormous throng was cheering frantically as we came out.
In this third heat I allowed Elleggarde to take the lead for the first two laps. Then I suddenly jumped past him just coming up to the bell on the last lap. After taking command of the situation I eased up a trifle until he challenged me, then I made my final jump for the tape. He had me timed just about right. It was any- body's race down the back stretch, around the turn, down the home stretch and right over the finish line. It was a savage fight but I had the advantage again by about six or eight inches. The cheering was deafening. I can never forget it.
We were nearly exhausted at the close of this heat despite the fact that we were both in perfect physical condition. Judging from the physical expression on Elleggarde's face, and from subsequent events this race must have settled for all time any hope he might have had of ever defeating me in a single man-to-man race. As a matter of fact we met a number of times after that gruelling race but I never again experienced a great deal of difficulty in defeating him. It is apparent to me now that my victory over Elleggarde on the Agen track on that eventful day broke his morale as far as I personally was concerned. The outcome of this great match proved that it was the hardest match race that I ever won.

Soon after my races with Elleggarde I jumped to Berlin where I defeated the champions of four countries in a five-cornered international match race at 1ooo meters. It was arranged that we would ride three heats, winner to be determined on a point basis.
The field included Momo, the Italian champion, Elleggarde, champion of Denmark, Protin, Champion of Austria, Arend and Huber, the premier sprinters of Germany, and myself.
From Berlin I next went to Leipzig where I won a three-cornered match race over Willie Arend, champion of Germany, and Huber, the former champion of Germany. At Antwerp I defeated Grognia, the champion of Belgium, Momo, the Italian champion and Protin, the champion of Austria, in a four-cornered international match race. At Toulouse I scored another victory over Van den Born, the former champion of Belgium, and Cornelli, the former champion of Italy.
In a match against the tandem team composed of Grognia and Prevost at Bordeaux I was defeated, but won out against Lambrecht and Legarde, another tandem team in Lyons. On this same occasion I won the 1000-meter handicap event from a field of stars which included Lambrecht, Legarde, Grognia, Prevost, Marteles, Van den Born, Cornelli and others. At Geneva I rode my final engagement of that season and defeated Gougoltz and Henneburn another famous tandem team.
My first European tour had proven even more successful than the trip made by Arthur Augustus Zimmerman, my famous predecessor, when he was champion of America. All told I competed in 16 cities, most of them being the capitals of European countries, and was successful against the champions and leading riders of six countries. I was defeated in only two single man-to-man match races, Jacquelin and Elleggarde turning the tricks as has been explained. Incidentally, my first invasion of Europe, in 1901, netted me 42 firsts, 11 seconds, 3 thirds, and I fourth prize.

Sydney Taylor

velovi — 2022-09-25T13:24:00Z

Sydney Taylor Brown(1904-2005) en plus d'avoir mené sa vie avec détermination a conservé les archives et transmis la mémoire de son père.
Depuis 2021, un musée Major Taylor existe à Worcester, avec des ressources numériques en ligne : http://majortaylormuseum.org/

Sydney Taylor

From
The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World - Major Taylor- 1928

The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World - Major Taylor- 1928

Winning the name Major

velovi — 2018-09-01T07:39:00Z

In The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World, an autobiography by Marshall W. « Major » Taylor, Wormley publishing Company, Worcester, 1928, Chapitre 36, Vélocithèque personnelle

Major Taylor

Major Taylor, Portrait

Hardly had the cheers of the throng that saw me win the third of a mile championship special match race from Owen Kimble and the two-mile championship race from Kimble and Frank Kramer died away before I recalled an objection raised by a prominent Indianapolis merchant over my riding under the name of Major Taylor.

Shortly after I had won my very first race, that ten-mile event on the Indianapolis highways as a boy of thirteen, I received a letter from this merchant asking me to call around and see him. Strangely enough his name was Major Taylor. I knew Mr. Taylor by sight.

For several minutes after I called at Mr. Taylor's office I was grilled by him. Among forty and one other things, he asked me what my christian name was, but he did not give me an opportunity to answer. This third degree business made me very nervous and I was very anxious to get out in the open air. Mr. Taylor accused me, among other things, of appropriating his name, which he led me to believe was a very serious offense. Likewise he alleged that I was receiving his mail, which charge to me was second only to one of murder. As our talk, if it could be called such, came to an end this merchant said to me : « Now I warn you, young man, never to use my name again. If you do I will send you straight to Plainfield (the location of the boys' reformatory) until you are twenty-one just to start with, and after that I am not sure just what will happen to you. »

I began to cry. His reformatory talk struck terror into my heart. I was all fed up on that Plainfield business, for years, before I was old enough to know what it was all about. The mere mention of its name caused me to quiver. After I had promised never to use his old name again he then handed me a letter addressed to « Major Taylor. » It was mine but he had opened it. I figured he wanted to frighten me out of doing what he thought I might do about this letter, because it was what he would have done under the same circumstances.

Shortly after that interview in Mr. Taylor's office I received a letter from a big law firm there asking me to drop in to see them at my earliest opportunity. In the meantime I had won a number of bicycle races in and about Indianapolis and my name was appearing more or less frequently in the daily papers. These lawyers accused me of using the name of Major Taylor, their client, the merchant referred to above, illegally. They asked me what my correct first name was and I told them « Marshall. » They told me to use my right name henceforth or they would land me in Michigan City (penitentiary). I promised them I would but added, « But I can't stop all the kids in town from calling me 'Major,' but I'll try. »

Not long after that I left Indianapolis. The next time I returned to the city I was a big « champ, » and no longer a little « chump. » The name, Major Taylor, was appearing frequently in big headlines in the newspapers throughout the country and on billboards as well.

The day after my success on the Newby Oval track, when I won the third of a Mile Special Championship match race and the Two-mile Championship race, I received another letter. Imagine my surprise when I learned it was from Mr. Major Taylor, the local merchant. Again he asked me to call to see him, I figured that I was a big champion now and couldn't be bluffed any more, so down I went to see him with blood in my eye. However, I found that Mr. Taylor had evidently experienced a change of heart. He told me that I had performed on the race tracks of the country in such a sportsmanlike manner that I was now free to adopt the name « Major. » He also told me that my work on the track had won the honor for me. « I want to congratulate you as champion and wish you every success, » said Mr. Taylor as he shook my hand warmly.

When I recovered from my surprise I thanked Mr. Taylor for the privilege of using his name Major, and assured the venerable gentleman that I would always do my very best to uphold with dignity and pride the proud old family name of « Major Taylor, » even though the « Major » part of it had been wished on me.

An Indianapolis paper got wind of this meeting of Major Taylor and Major Taylor and ran the following item concerning it in their next issue :

« Major Taylor and Major Taylor. Major Taylor the business man, and Major Taylor the bicycle racer are both of Indianapolis, yet they are two distinct individuals. This could be easily seen if the two were brought face to face. »The racing man is young and black, while the business man is past the racing age and white, but unfortunately, so Major Taylor the business man says, thousands of people are not aware of this fact and confuse the two. He also says that the use of his name in connection with bicycle racing is causing him no end of trouble, and that he has been obliged to explain to hundreds of his friends that he has not deserted his business and gone into the bicycle racing game.

"Major the racing man, so he asserts, is masquerading around under an assumed name, and that the racing man's correct name is Marshall Walter Taylor. This the racing man admits but claims the right to answer to the name of Major if he likes, although he does not sign his name Major.

« Major is a name in both cases and not a title. Major Taylor the racing man will be in the city next week and promises not to interfere in any way with the business pursuits of Major Taylor the business man. Major Taylor the racing man has made a great reputation this season. No one knows of Marshall Taylor on the National Circuit, but thousands are watching the clever riding of Major Taylor and the clever little colored rider is determined to stick to the name which he has made famous. Meanwhile Major Taylor the business man will continue to send out notices that he is still doing business at the same old stand. »

Numerous titles were hung on me by the sports writers of the country when I was in my heyday. Some of them referred to me as the « Black Zimmerman, » « the Black Streak, » « the Ebony Streak, » and the « Black Cyclone. » However, I believe the most popular one was « the Worcester Whirlwind. »

Some of the riders also had a few choice « pet » names for me occasionally when I flew over the tape ahead of them. These outbursts, of course, were true indications of poor sportsmanship and also showed what hard losers they were.

Lien vers The fatest Bicycle rider in the world

A THRILLING VICTORY WITH A WORLD'S RECORD

velovi — 2017-12-01T10:17:00Z

The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World, an autobiography by Marshall W. « Major » Taylor, Wormley publishing Company, Worcester, 1928

Two days after my debut on an Australian track, the same being located at Sydney, I appeared for my second program on the same course. Don Walker, the champion, and the cream of the fastest riders in that country were also entered in the various events. The handicap event was a half-mile race and there was a scratch event for the same distance in which Walker and myself were entered.
The O'Brien Plate, a popular five-mile scratch race, wound up the evening's program.
winninghalfmilehandicapfrom5yards
Winning Half-mile Handicap from 5 Yards behind Scratch and establishing World's Record
Concerning my second appearance on the Sydney track one of the local dailies had this to say : « The Major Taylor Carnival was continued last night and it proved to be a strong attraction. The racing was of the highest order. Major Taylor's heat in the Half-Mile Handicap was a revelation. Starting five yards behind the tape, he flashed along at a terrific pace to victory. He was unpaced throughout the race and finished in :56 1/5, a competitive record. »In the semi-final heat Major Taylor started from the same mark as Don Walker. They were seen going at top speed and caught the field at the North Pavilion. At this point interest was momentarily taken from Taylor through an accident. There was a crash and a rider flew into the air minus a bicycle, while two others were spreadeagled on the track. Drinkwater had fallen, and Hardy shooting over the prostrate man's machine was hurled against an overhead electric light support breaking the glass. Drinkwater was injured, but Hardy without having any bones broken suffered much pain around his loins and back. Meanwhile, Major Taylor on hearing the crash swerved in and Larry Corbett finished first, equaling the world's record of :56 1/5 which Major Taylor had made in his first heat.
« Taylor's showing in the final heat was wonderfully good. He and Walker caught the field together. Walker got hopelessly blocked and Taylor also looked inextricably so, but Taylor streaked through and won by inches amid thunderous applause. The time, :55 3/5, still further clipping the world's record which was set in the first heat and tied in the semi-final by 3/5 of a second. »

TURNING THE TABLES ON JACQUELIN,...

velovi — 2016-07-01T14:56:00Z

From The Fastest Bicycle Rider In the World, THE STORY OF A COLORED BOY'S INDOMITABLE COURAGE AND SUCCESS AGAINST GREAT ODDS, AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY BY Marshall W. « Major » Taylor

CHAPTER XLV
TURNING THE TABLES ON JACQUELIN, THE FRENCH IDOL PARIS

After having competed in ten races in the various sections of Europe I was called upon for the feature event of the tour—the match race with the French champion Edmond Jacquelin. This race of races was held at the « Pare du Princess » in Paris on May 16, 1901.
At the time of this match I felt I was in excellent physical condition for the big fuss and desired only a warm day for the race. I was doomed for a disappointment, however, because the day was cold and raw and despite the fact that I wore an extra heavy sweater I shivered as I took my warming-up trips over the track. The fates had also decreed that I was to be beaten on this occasion by the great Jacquelin and I took my reverse gracefully. I offered no excuses.

Edmond Jacquelin—Champion of France

Major Taylor—Champion of America

Start of First Heat of Second Grand Challenge Match

Hand Shake—Start of Second and Last Match

I knew from the expression on his face that he was well aware that bewildering of the fact that my hand-shake was a demonstration of sarcasm pure and simple. My motive was to impress on Jacquelin that I was so positive that I could defeat him again that this was going to be the last heat. Followers of boxing will recognize my action as a parallel to what happens at the boxers' meet at the start of the final round. As the French idol gathered the full significance of my gesture he mumbled something, shrugged his shoulders, and set his jaw. His sneering smile disappeared and a frown encompassed his face.

Finish of Revenge Match

My « Military » Salute