Anne Bradford's magnificent outtakes

The proud factory of Royal Enfield in Redditch, Britain.

  Author Anne Bradford's outstanding 1996 book "Royal Enfield, The Story of the Company and the People Who Made It Great: 1851-1969" is largely a collection of contributions from people who worked at the Royal Enfield factories in Redditch, England before the firm went out of business there. 

It's an outstanding history of the early days of Royal Enfield, and it is listed for sale on Amazon and as available on Kindle. 

The interviews, edited by Ray Knight, are precious and revealing; but that is not all there is, the book explains: 

"In order to produce a book at reasonable cost, Ray Knight has had to carry out some vigorous editing. A copy of all interviews in their entirety have been lodged at the Redditch Library and in the archives of the Royal Enfield Owners Club." 

In these archives we learn what had to be left out. In all, editor Ray Knight did a fine job of keeping contributors on subject. But some of the left-out material is eye opening.

You should read the book to know the full story of Royal Enfield in Redditch. But, below, I'll offer some bits that were trimmed out in hope that these small additions broaden the story for you.

At 16, Redditch lad Vic Bott and some pals abandoned their protected factory apprenticeships to enlist for World War I. He served in the trenches of the Western Front from 1916 to 1918 in "wet, mud and desolation."

When peace came, in 1918, it found the young men with "no jobs and no skills and we were thrown into a mass of (now unemployed) munition workers whose generous pay and skill created  a 'them and us' situation."

As a result, "the 1920s, were vicious," Bott said.

Royal Enfield took on as many former soldiers as it could, including a grateful Bott, but this inevitably meant lay-offs for everyone when business was slow.

"In the whole history of the factory, the worst trouble came during the 1926 General Strike..."

"Out of a workforce of about 260, 90 to 100 people refused to strike and most of these were ex-servicemen. When we walked into work we had to go through a crowd of pickets on the gate, all booing and shouting and calling us 'blacklegs.'* This caused a lot of bitterness on both sides, which continued for many years and sometimes marred an otherwise happy and friendly atmosphere."

The British Legion, a charity for former soldiers, helped. Bott proudly states that, in Redditch, it did so under the leaderships of the father and sons who managed Royal Enfield.

Royal Enfield managing director R.W. Smith provided a lodge for meetings. Son Frank Walker "Major" Smith was president of the British Legion in Redditch. Major's younger brother Gilbert was treasurer, and the youngest, Stanley, was chairman.

There were better times to come.

Bott remembers assembly and testing departments supervisor Fred Bicknell, who was so esteemed they called him "Mr. Royal Enfield." He competed in trial events, contributing to the brand's reputation.

Bicknell returned from one event where he had spent too long having to change a rear wheel.  He devised the clever split rear fender that gets out of the way of removing the rear wheel by loosening only two nuts. You don't even have to entirely remove the two nuts!

Clever swinging rear fender eases access to rear wheel.

Ray Knight edited this out of the book (probably rather than have to explain how the fender works) but now I know to thank Fred Bicknell every time the design eases maintenance of my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet!

A high proportion of women were workers in Redditch factories, Bott said. The firms had started as light industry -- making needles and fish hooks -- so  there was a local tradition of women on the shop floors.

He claims that at Royal Enfield the women factory workers in overalls earned more than the better dressed women in the offices, who had shorter hours and more comfortable conditions.

Bott is a fountain of information, all of it fascinating, and much of which had to be left out of the book. He talks about how hard it was to work at a piece work rate, where a difficult job done carefully might pay less than an easy one done quickly.

Work started at 8 a.m. and you had better not be late; they locked the gate and docked your pay.

There was an unofficial tea break at 10 in the morning and lunch was noon-1 p.m. When, around 1922, the factory got a tin shed as a lunch room, factory workers and staff sat in separate areas -- not because of social distinctions, but only because the factory workers' clothes were typically greasy.

The then new factory was in the countryside; you could go for a stroll, or play soccer, cricket or tennis on a field provided for workers (today a company would certainly utilize that space for a parking lot, I suppose).

There was no afternoon break. Work ended at 5:30, but you'd stay for overtime if you were allowed.

Bott is quoted as saying that Royal Enfield made its own sidecars in those days, out of "American" white wood. In the book this is changed to "Armenian" white wood. I'd guess the archival version may be more accurate than the published version in this one case.

As always in memoirs, it's important to keep in mind that some memories from long ago may be inaccurate or were hearsay to start. While most trims were made to save space in the book, some archived cuts might also have been made because the information could not be confirmed.

We'll look at more deleted gems in my next blog item.

*Various sources explain that "blacklegs" was not a racial term. It's used in the same sense "scabs" is used in the United States. One origin suggested is that men who meant to disguise that they were working with coal would roll up their pant legs to keep them clean, but the coal-black skin of their legs would give them away.

Great ad for an only so-so motorcycle

What can you say about a little old motorcycle?

 About the most thorough Craigslist ad for a vintage motorcycle I have ever seen, sadly, is not for a Royal Enfield. Although the motorcycle kind of looks like one. 

Zap Leather and Cycle in Paynesville, Minn., has done a complete restoration of a 1953 Indian Brave motorcycle, rendering it better than it would originally have been. At that time U.S. Indian motorcycles were made in England, but by Brockhouse, not by Royal Enfield. 

Royal Enfield began rebadging some of its models as Indians in 1955, to give Indian dealers something to sell. But that is a different story. 

This particular 1953 Indian Brave is advertised for sale with a sterling example of how to write a Craigslist ad. The seller leaves out nothing you'd ever need to know. Here's what I like about the ad. 

The ad opens with the basic information. Matching numbers (it gives the actual numbers and shows photos). "Clean title in my name," is noted, and the asking price is named. Mileage, of course, is not given, as the speedometer is a replacement.

Ad show photos of the actual engine and frame numbers.

Next comes:

A complete list of engine work performed.

A complete list of gearbox and clutch work performed.

A complete list of charging system and electrical system work performed.

A list of work done on the carburetor.

A complete list of work done on frame and chassis.

A list of work done on wheels and tires. (Tires are claimed to have the same tread pattern as the originals.)

Plus lists of work done to the Final Drive, Front End and Front Suspension, Gas Tank, Instruments, and Lighting.

Then we get a description of the Engine Break-In procedure followed and what gasoline is required.

Then comes a Full Disclosure: the bike has been on display in the shop and has picked up some minor scuffing and a scratch on the rear fender.

"I didn't post a photo (of the scratch) because the detail didn't show up well. Any prospective buyers may request photos and I'll email several close-ups," the seller advises.

Then comes a Synopsis explaining the restoration philosophy (modern upgrades, original appearance), and the source of OEM parts used. It also tells where to see a YouTube video of the motorcycle.

So, a very complete, informative and honest seeming advertisement. But what is really impressive is what follows all the good stuff above.

Not a beauty, not a hero, not a racer, but Indian Brave is still interesting.

First, there is a justification for paying an admittedly high asking price for an originally plain Jane economy motorcycle that never won a war or, probably, even a race.

"Manufactured by Brockhouse in England, who became partners in the USA Indian Motocycle Company in 1949. No Expense Spared, Fully Restored. Engine Upgraded, Much Improved Vintage Classic.

"This bike shifts on the LEFT SIDE and the rear brake lever is on the RIGHT SIDE. The engine is a 248cc flathead (side valve), with three-speed transmission. Complete Frame-off Restoration by Zap Cycle, Paynesville Minnesota using modern upgrades.

"Looks very original, very vintage, but the engine upgrades will greatly lessen the oil leaks that were common with the Indian Brave."

But you haven't seen anything yet, because the ad CONTINUES, with a detailed history of the Indian Motocycle Company during the Brockhouse Brave era, then a detailed account of why OEM parts are still available for this 72-year-old motorcycle, and a mechanical description of the motorcycle.

Unit construction, but motor is a flathead with kickstart on the left side.

Finally, there is an excerpt of period magazine review of the Brave, which is very critical.

"The kickstarter proved awkward to use, being on the left, and the test machine jumped out of second gear whenever the revs were increased. Furthermore, top gear was not easy to select. There was a vibration period from the engine at 54 mph, but the machine would cruise comfortably at 50 mph. The lighting switch caused frequent panics though, by making intermittent contact, whilst the thief-proof steering lock was easily picked with a bent wire! Braking performance was average, until the rivets securing the rear brake torque arm sheared after 600 miles. On a bumpy road, insufficient clearance caused the exhaust system to shed its silencer! As for oil leaks, these occurred from the timing chest and the tappet cover."

And all this was when the thing was brand new! Why include a negative review in an ad?

"I found the road test very interesting," the seller writes. "The bike is a fascinating example of the motorcycles available 70 years ago."

He's right. You take the bad with the good in purchasing a vintage motorcycle, and the bad often makes the best telling.

Altogether, this advertisement deserves an award for mining the fascinating elements behind a seemingly inconsequential motorcycle.

At the time of the ad the motorcycle could be seen at Zap Leather and Cycle/Zap Cycle, 920 W. Main St., Paynesville Minn. Phone is 1-800-294-4208..

The Royal Enfield history you must read

Anne Bradford's book about Royal Enfield in Britain. 
It's for sale on Amazon and available on Kindle.

 It was one of my proudest moments as an amateur historian of Royal Enfield motorcycles. 

In 1933 the press reported that Royal Enfield had delivered a startlingly beautiful, white, V-twin motorcycle to the president of a South American country. 

But which one? 

By carefully considering the biographies of every president of a South American country of that year, I concluded that none of these men seemed the type to have been interested in motorcycling. 

But aha! A president of a Central American nation -- Guatemala -- was famous for his riding, and would lead armed men on motorcycle forays into the countryside, enforcing his dictatorial rule. 

It had to be him! I congratulated myself on my discovery and boasted about it in a blog item.

I should have been more modest.

Author Anne Bradford had beaten me to it.

Her renown book, "Royal Enfield, The Story of the Company and the People Who Made it Great: 1851-1969" is a priceless account of the company's history. (It's also known as "From the Bicycle to the Bullet.")

And there, had I bothered to look, I would have found, on the back cover, IN BOLD FACE TYPE, this:

"On the wall of Major Mountford's office was a map with a flag for every agent and you could see we had an agent in every country of the world. We even had one in Guatemala. In fact we supplied the President with a splendid white twin (motor bike) with a mounting for a machine gun across the handlebars, between the two grips. A couple of weeks after it was delivered somebody tried to assassinate him so he sent for some black enamel paint."

Anne Bradford had the solution to my "mystery."

I noticed this embarrassing find just after picking up the book. A copy was graciously sent me by Bruce Gipson, a fellow Florida resident, and the owner of a wartime Royal Enfield WD/CO motorcycle.

My proud "discovery" presumably has been on the cover of Anne Bradford's book since it first was published in 1996!

Reading the book I found there was much more I had to learn.

I also discovered that it is more than a history book. It is the affecting story of ordinary (and extraordinary) Royal Enfield employees, told in their own words.

Readers learn not only how these people contributed to Royal Enfield, but how the company intersected with their lives, sometimes through generations.

Hardly a contributor fails to complain about how little they were paid when they worked at "The Enfield," as they called it.

Nevertheless it was home to them, and they gave it their all. Not a few risked life and limb, testing motorcycles in awful weather.

The story begins in 1851, with a needle factory, but the first in-person testimony we get is from Vic Bott, who worked at Royal Enfield from 1920-1968. He was nearly 100 years old when he contributed  to the book.

"Consequently I am one of the few people alive today able to describe life as a worker at Royal Enfield in 1920 and the years that followed," he begins. His first task at the factory was to affix linoleum to the floor boards of motorcycles.

Later, having risen to be an engineer and designer, he would create the Royal Enfield Revelation, a miniature adult bicycle with space saving frame and small wheels. The famous story is that he joked he could design the bike in only two weeks. Taken seriously, he then had to do it!

Through war, Depression and decline, employees were loyal. Rita Nati, who stayed until the bitter end, probably exaggerated just a bit when she said this:

"If Royal Enfield came back now to Redditch I would go and work for them without any wages. The firm was great."

Of course the book includes their theories about why Royal Enfield came to an end in Britain.

The market for motorcycles declined as automobiles became affordable. Royal Enfield's plant and products were aged and would cost too much to update. The American market demanded horsepower Enfield designs couldn't provide without losing reliability. The nurturing leadership of R.W. Smith and then his son Frank Walker "Major" Smith came to an end. Vulture capitalists descended, looted the factory, and fouled its future.

But here too are intriguing theories about how the Royal Enfield of those days could have prospered, despite it all.

Those "what-ifs" never happened. And, as a book first published in 1996, it could not foresee Royal Enfield's stunning triumph in India and its surprising 21st century return to Britain and the world.

Which reminds me: Why, all those years ago, did Guatemalan tyrant Jorge Ubico need black enamel paint for his white Royal Enfield?

There apparently had been a plot to assassinate him; at least 12 people were shot by firing squad in 1934 for planning to blow him up in his automobile.

My guess is that the white motorcycle was too showy. Royal Enfield supplied six V-twin motorcycles to Guatemala, three of them in 1933; but only the special one for the president would have been white.

It would have made him a target.

The resplendent white Royal Enfield 1933 V-twin for a tyrant.