One of the things I loved most about my father and his bicycle collection was the way he shared it with the community—displaying bikes in his shop, at car shows and fairs, and riding them in local parades. It wasn’t just a collection; it was a celebration. And while my own collection pales in comparison, I’ve always dreamed of doing the same. I’m passionate about bicycle history and eager to share it with anyone willing to listen.
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As I considered how best to bring that dream to life, I realized that a locally manufactured TOC (Turn of the Century) safety bicycle would likely resonate most with the community. That set me on a mission: to find a safety bicycle built in Amesbury, MA—the next town over—since, sadly, none were made here in Newburyport. My initial goal was simple: acquire an Amesbury-built bicycle to display at the next year’s Amesbury Days car show.
So, I put out a few feelers on the CABE and with the Wheelmen, hoping to track one down. The only response came from Glenn Eames (
@oldspoke ), someone I’ve known since my youth—my father and I were Wheelmen as far back as the late ’80s. Glenn wasn’t sure he wanted to part with his bike, and, as such, he encouraged me to keep looking. Then, after some time had passed, he reached out again, asking about my progress. When I told him I was still coming up empty, he said he’d let it go.
The bicycle? An 1895 ladies’ Eastern, once owned by none other than Annie Webster—a legendary figure in Amesbury. She was the first woman in town to own a bicycle, one of the first women in Massachusetts to receive a driver’s license, the first female selectman elected in the state, a policewoman, a shop owner, and so much more. Say “Annie Webster” in Amesbury, and people know exactly who you mean. Her initials—an “A” above the badge and a “W” below—are still painted on the head of the bike. Along with it came a treasure trove of provenance: an Eastern Cycle catalog, a newspaper article about the bike’s rediscovery at auction, her obituary, and even a copy of her father’s shares in the Eastern Cycle Manufacturing Co.
Once I grasped the historical significance of this bicycle, I knew it didn’t belong hidden away in my personal collection. It deserved to be shared with the greater Amesbury community—to help tell the story of the town’s brief but meaningful role in the TOC bicycle boom. So, I purchased the bike from Glenn and donated it to the Amesbury Carriage Museum, where they were absolutely thrilled to receive it. When I first contacted the museum’s director, she was stunned to learn the bicycle still existed—and even more amazed because her doctoral thesis had been on none other than Annie Webster herself. It felt like the universe had aligned, and I was honored to play a part in it. And speaking of playing a part, they've even brought in an historical reenactor to portray Annie and reflect on her life with the bicycle!
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It's no stretch to believe a ton of luck and uncanny events contributed to this amazing outcome. But, incredibly, the magic didn’t stop there.
During one of my visits to the museum, I mentioned that W. I. Atwood, an officer of the Eastern Cycle Manufacturing Co., also owned a lamp company in town—Atwood Manufacturing Co. Having produced carriage lamps for 25 years before the bicycle boom, it made perfect sense that they’d pivot to bicycle lamps. I promised to try and track one down for the museum.
In my research, I discovered that the Atwood Light was praised for its “perfect combustion” and unique swinging bracket that kept it perpendicular regardless of wheel angle. Made of brass, riveted throughout, and nickel-plated, it could run on kerosene or any illuminating oil. But finding one? That proved just as difficult as locating the bicycle.
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Then, as luck would have it, one surfaced in a lot of five brass lamps at the Copake Auction in October 2023. I had been in touch with Brant Mackley (
@New Mexico Brant ), who agreed to bid on the lot—so long as it didn’t get too pricey, since the other lamps were also quite handsome and desirable. The bidding stayed reasonable, and Brant won the lot. He generously offered the Atwood lamp as a gift to the museum and promised to ship it when he had the chance. It took a while, as the lamp was at his home in Pennsylvania, but I was in no rush.
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To this day, the only live photo of one of these lamps to come up in a Google image search is from the 2023 Copake auction. When the package arrived this week, I was stunned. The lamp gleamed with a brilliance that seemed almost too good to be brass. And, come to think of it, I didn’t recall any mention of a highly polished brass finish in my initial research—only nickel-plated versions. Curious, I dug deeper.
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That’s when I stumbled upon the following snippet from the March 12, 1897 issue of The Wheel:
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My jaw dropped.
Then I found a similar note in The Referee:
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Could the lamp I was holding be that gold-plated prize?
A visit to the local jeweler nearly confirmed it. He said it certainly looked like gold, though only an XRF scan could say for sure. But he noted something telling: the lamp was clearly plated, and the brass underneath had a slightly different tone. When I asked, “Why would someone brass-plate a brass object?” he replied, “They wouldn’t.”
So now, all logic points to this being the fabled Atwood gold-plated lamp. Just wow.
I plan to let the museum know that, with Brant’s help, I’ve secured this extraordinary piece for them—and why it’s so special. But before I did so, I wanted to share this incredible journey with my friends here on the CABE.
amesburycarriagemuseum.org
