There’s a certain kind of cavalier attitude I like in a carmaker that you really don’t see anymore. And that makes sense; the kind of cavalier attitude I’m thinking of — a certain willful refusal to consider consequences or repercussions and generally operating with the gleeful abandon of crabgrass — just isn’t really compatible with keeping going as a viable company. And that’s part of why I think we’re not all driving Dunkleys today – the company that perhaps was too weird for its own good.
Dunkley of Birmingham was in operation from 1896 to 1926, and in that time managed to make some wonderfully and deeply strange cars. One of their earliest cars used a diamond formation for the wheels – as in one up front, two driving wheels in the middle, and then one at the rear.


This isn’t exactly unheard of, though it is uncommon. The very first Sunbeam used this layout, and I luckily have this informational sign handy I made for that car because Beau has one that we’ve shown at the Autopian Car Show before:

Incredibly, though, the Dunkley version – which I can find no images of at all – was even weirder, as it was designed to only have three wheels down at once, and had two steering tillers. Whomever was heavier, front or rear, did the steering.
UPDATE: Okay, it’s weirder than I even thought. Thanks to commenter Mike, I learned the car was called the Dunkley Moke, and it looked like this:
Wicker body! The driving process, according to this Dutch site, seems stranger, too, as it involved co-operation and rocking. The front wheel steered, the rear was the brake. Each passenger had control of their wheel’s function, so to steer, you needed to rock forward, keeping the steering wheel in contact with the ground, but to brake, you needed to rock rearwards, to let the braking wheel make contact.
I would love to see this in action! Maybe we should build a crude replica?
Designed To ‘Steal’ Gas
That’s pretty bonkers, but the car that really fascinates me is Dunkley’s 1901 Patent Self-Charging Motor Car. The name is sort of confusing, because it’s not exactly “self-charging,” which to modern ears would seem to suggest an electric vehicle of some kind. This was very much not that; the Patent Self-Charging Motor Car ran on coal gas, which is what you get if you burn coal in a sealed container, making methane, hydrogen, and carbon monoxide, and this resulting melangé proved to be nice and flammable, excellent for street lighting.
Gas lamps all over Great Britain and other parts of the world soon sprang up, with London and Paris being early adopters at the start of the 1800s. Large municipal networks of pipes to transport coal gas were installed in cities, all to feed gas street lights.
It’s from this network of coal gas pipes that the Dunkley expected you to “charge” from. The car was designed with onboard equipment (hose, compressor, etc) that would let a suave Dunkley driver pull up to any streetlamp, plug in their fueling hose, and suck out as much coal gas as they needed.

I suppose technically, the name for this process would be “stealing.”
There were no ways to meter the coal-gas as it was being extracted from the lamp-feeding pipes, and there was certainly no arrangement made with the municipal lighting organizations that would give Dunkley drivers free and easy access to as much coal-gas as they wanted. Dunkley just did it, because, objectively, it’s kind of a great idea! There’s all this fuel for your car running mere feet from where your car may be parked, why not take advantage of that? And if it’s free? Is that so bad? The city can afford a little bit of gas shrinkage, right?
It doesn’t seem like enough Dunkley Patent Self-Charging Motor Cars were sold for this ever to become a real issue, and the same goes for the follow-on car from 1902, the Dunkley Number 3, that appeared to use the same opportunistic refueling theft system. That’s the car in the picture up there; I can’t find an image for the earlier Dunkley car.
Baby Transportation
After an abortive attempt to build cyclecars, Dunkley shifted to the baby-transportation industry, making baby strollers, or, as they would have been referred to back in 1923 Britain, prams. But Dunkley wasn’t going to make some boring push-pram, requiring a mom or nanny to use their own muscles to cause the thing to move, like some sort of filthy ox, but instead would build motorized prams.
They started fairly conservatively, with a pram that had a one-horsepower two-stroke motor, mounted horizontally under the pusher/driver’s feet, and driving its own fifth wheel:

One horsepower you would think would be plenty for a perambulator. Hell, my Changli only has 0.1 hp more, and it’s pretty close to a whole car! Sorta!
But remember, this Dunkley we’re talking about here. They DGAF. They knew that they could make a faster pram, and that was good enough for them, consequences be damned. In 1922, they showed their next motorized pram, powered by a 750cc single-cylinder engine making 21 hp!

Holy crap, right? That’s a bigger engine than the 603cc flat-twin in my Citroën 2CV and makes almost as much power! As you can see from that picture of the Duke of York inspecting the thing, they also gave it what is essentially a full metal automobile body. This is a car. It’s a car, for a baby, with an adult hanging on to those handlebars behind it. I can’t find any references stating how fast this thing could go, but I’m pretty sure whatever it was it was way, way too fast.
Oh, Dunkley! You were too crazy to live, if we’re honest. Gas-thieving cars and superfast motor-prams are just more than this staid world was able to bear, I’m afraid, but I happily salute you.
The horsepower of the power prams started escalating as nanny racing took hold amongst the wealthy families.
Things are different these days and confined to more modest electric powered baby carriages from China.
Nannies are becoming hard to come by due to immigration rules and enforcement, so if you have a fast one keep them well paid and happy. Competition is sure to return at some point.
I do wonder a bit Dunkley was considering the coal-gas streetlamps as a public resource, much like rural water-trough systems in the British countryside.
Britain had a large number of water troughs in the countryside that were kept filled by systems of wells and gravity feeds, with float valves to make them self-refilling without overflowing. Frequently set up along the hedgerows, they were available to anyone along the roadside who needed to water their horses or their livestock being herded along the way.
Interestingly, the water-trough system went on to be part of the informal support infrastructure that kept steam-powered equipment in use in rural Great Britain for far longer than in other parts of the world. Not just those lovely Victorian steam tractors that you might see on display at fairs and exhibitions, but the Brits also had steam lorries (or “steam wagons”) that could trundle along at regular road speeds, which operated well into the 1950s and 60s. Steam power goes through water faster than it does coal, so in the countryside it was simple to just pull up near one of the troughs and use a hose to siphon water. Some of them had small pumps onboard to make taking on water easier.
Britain also kept using steam power particularly for rural road paving operations, since steam power could supply heat for the necessary tar boilers as well as motive power for the tractors and rollers. With an abundance of coal to burn, and ample water still easily available along the roadside, it actually made practical sense in a way. This was when road paving was often genuine “tarmacadam” — actual coal tar combined with aggregate rolled smooth.
This is probably something for Mercedes to take a deep dive into…
So you rock backward to apply the brake?
Well, I can see that not working at all unless you were going in reverse.
What direction was this going in again?
I can’t imagine this procedure smelled good.
If you’ve ever smelled what I’ll describe as a repulsive combo of licorice, smoldering-hair and heating-oil-that’s-been-sitting-in-a-tank-for-too-long emanating from the ground of a construction site THAT’S the by-product of manufacturing coal-gas. I worked in environmental remediation in the NYC area for years on countless coal-tar MGP sites and while it is truly awful, is it not unsafe as an OSHA PEL to actually work around from what I’ve learned.
I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town
Ewan MacColl
Love (and miss) the Gowanus.
I believe perambulator is the correct term. Only heathens abbreviate.
So, now we have a new way to refer to a person being heavy.
“I need to cut back on the sweets before I end up Steering the Dunkley.”
Rubber baby buggy bumpers require rubber babies and properly padded pram propellers whilst pilfering put-put propellant.
Oh, sure, when a company that went out of business 100 years ago does it, it’s kinda cool, but when *Tesla* programs their cars to self-drive aggressively it’s a huuuuuuuuuge deal…
(To be read with maximum sarcasm.)
History repeats it’s self enough the electric dog basket scooter will be all the rage in the cities soon. Equip with on board chargers to easily steal energy from your friendly neighbor mermaid cafe whilst you are all too busy with work sucking down a cocktail of doom
Is “mermaid cafe” autocorrect, a new trend, or the result of rising sea levels?
I believe it to be the result of rising level of fake coffee snobbery
I didn’t think it was possible, but here we are.
Jason Torchinsky has declared an automaker to be “too weird for it’s own good.”
Baby Transportation
iswydt
LMFAO, I thought the same thing! Touche Torch
I could see that baby carriage format making a comeback as an electric cargo scooter
Why does that pram make me think about the 90+MPH unicycle article from the other day? I feel if the people riding those hear about this pram, they will be sure to strap their kid in for the ride.
Watching the included video from that was well worth it. Being a former member of the ministry of silly walks, retrospectively think they should be in waiter uniforms and carrying a full serving platter including soups.
It’s called the Dunkley Moke:
https://live.staticflickr.com/7046/6963467476_64b84cbbdb_b.jpg
Nice save Mike! Now you’ll have to scan ALL your books (and I’ll bet you have lots)!
So very many books…
That’s not quite it. The bit about only three of its wheels being in contact with the road at any one time is true but there’s only one set of handlebars at the front which controls both the front and rear wheels. Whichever wheel is under the heavier person is the wheel which steers the vehicle (also to some extent affected by acceleration/deceleration, probably) but it’s always the forward-facing person controlling it. The rearward-facing person instead controls the brake lever. Of course.
Thank you! I’ll get this in the main story!
You’re quite welcome but I’m afraid the Dutch site you’ve cited isn’t describing the Moke’s operation correctly. As shown by the arrangement of linkages criss-crossing underneath the chassis in the photo, both the front and rear wheels steer, deflecting in opposite directions so as to produce the same resulting steering direction regardless of which one is in contact with the road. The brake lever only acts on the driven center wheels.
Among the many issues with this design, however, is that the two wheels being steered can only be deflected by a modest amount before the linkages would rub and bind against the wheels themselves.
“A gas lamp! I’ll STEAL from it! NOBODY WILL EVER KNOW!” – Dunkley owners, probably.
Dunkley may very well have produced more than one of these but I still think it is generous of you to assume plural owners.
Did they aleo manufacture little baby goggles to wear while you’re being “pushed” down the street?