In the midst of Britain’s post-war turmoil engineer Reid Railton was freshly out of a job at the beginning of 1923. So was his friend Henry Spurrier III, although he was still working at Leyland Motors but on a reduced salary. Born in June of 1898, Henry Spurrier “Junior” was three years less eight days younger than Reid Railton. “A great deal of both work and leisure time was spent in each other’s company,” wrote Hugh Tours. Spurrier and Railton, close in years, became life-long friends.
Unfinished business remained at Leyland. The company’s directors, wrote Miles Thomas in The Motor, “have come to the decision to investigate the question of the market for a small and cheap chassis suitable alternatively for a light car and a 10 to 15 cwt. van. It is intended at first to produce the chassis in very small numbers in the experimental shops of the company.”
The Leyland chiefs decided to produce a four-stroke engine whose four cylinders had a bore of 70 mm, which gave an RAC rating of 12.1 h.p.—much smaller than any previous Leyland engine. Contemplating a power unit to cover the range from 1.1 to 2.0 liters, they would ring the changes by fitting crankshafts with different stroke lengths. The bore was small enough, they felt, that with the four cylinders closely spaced they would need bearings only at the front and rear of the crankshaft. Dimensions could be as follows:
70 x 71 mm 1,093 cc
70 x 97 mm 1,493 cc
70 x 120 mm 1,847 cc
70 x 129 mm 1,986 cc
In this project, with which both Thomas and Railton were involved, they decided to bolt an iron cylinder block to a crankcase cast of aluminum with a deep aluminum sump beneath. This allowed the easy fitting of blocks of different heights to suit varying stroke lengths and capacities.
Detail design of cylinder heads, camshaft drives etcetera was not fully resolved when the project was cancelled. However Leyland had ordered from its foundry 50 blocks and crankcases to support experimental and prototype work. Some of these went to Parry Thomas on his departure. He used them as a basis for several projects. One was a brace of 1½-liter Marlborough-Thomas racing cars with added engine fabrication by the Peter Hooker Ltd. workshops. Another was his own 1924 Thomas Special, which used the 1,847 cc capacity and the engineer’s preferred reciprocating-rod camshaft drive.
Availability of these engines-in-the-raw prompted thoughts on the part of young Henry Spurrier III and his friend Reid Railton. The latter, having a strong dose of independence in his makeup, did not contemplate signing on with the corporate world of a big motor company for the long haul. Having experienced the success with which Parry Thomas had forged his own independent career, Railton was confident enough to do likewise. He also had the support of a family that was not without resources and a colleague, Spurrier, who could help him complete an engine prototype at Leyland.
Although the basis was there, it was up to Reid Railton to top and tail the block and crankcase appropriately. His cylinder head design had vee-inclined valves at a 90-degree included angle to provide large valves in a small combustion chamber. Rocker arms from a central camshaft and semi-elliptic leaf springs in the style favored by Parry Thomas manipulated the valves. Unlike Thomas, however, Railton had two cam lobes side-by-side for each cylinder to give greater scope for sporting valve timing. This required conventional forged rocker arms instead of the girder-type design associated with Thomas.
Valve clearance was set by altering the position of the rocker-arm pivot. “Each rocker is carried on an eccentrically mounted hollow spindle,” explained The Autocar. “The spindle is situated in a bracket and can be rotated to set the rocker clearance after a locking cotter pin has been undone and a set screw manipulated to engage a flat, cut radially in the side of the hollow spindle, so as to prevent the adjustment from moving after it has once been made. The cotter pin is then tightened home again and the adjustment is finished. This adjustment is most simple and easy to get at.”
Turning the camshaft was a single-roller chain that also drove the dynamo and distributor (standard) or magneto (optional) on the left-hand side and the water and oil pumps on the right. To achieve this it was five feet long, which posed the challenge of keeping it from slackening. A jockey pulley on the right side, above the crankshaft sprocket, had this responsibility. Railton devised an external lever that tweaked the jockey pulley’s eccentric mounting. He also built in means for the camshaft to be removed and replaced without losing the valve timing.
The two-bearing crankshaft was judged “literally gargantuan for the size of the engine” by The Autocar. External copper lines carried oil to its two central big-end bearings. Long connecting rods were tubular in some engines and solid in others, moved by pistons gently crowned to give a suitable compression ratio. Instead of going all the way to a 129 mm stroke, which would have given 1,986 cc, Railton limited the stroke to 127 mm for a 1,960 cc swept volume. This was a judicious increase from the 120 mm stroke that Parry Thomas used successfully in his racing engines based on the same block.
Spark plugs and the induction manifold were on the four’s right-hand side. Sixteen bolts attached a plate that covered the water jacket that was provided to help vaporize the mixture from the updraft Claudel Hobson carburetor below. A vast aluminum cover held down by three wingnuts covered the valve gear, which was easily the most like that of a racing car of any small British sports-car power unit. Output was 65 bhp at 4,000 rpm.
Having built and tested the engine, Railton and Spurrier needed a car to prove its potential. They found this in an Enfield-built Enfield-Allday 10/20 h.p. close-coupled tourer, normally powered by a 1½-liter side-valve four. The car was the work of Augustus Cesare “Bert” Bertelli, soon to be famous for his work at Aston Martin. Installing their four, the two enthusiasts deleted its radiator badge and dubbed their creation the Spurrier-Railton or S.R.
Reid Railton would later write on the back of a photo of it, “This is the first car that RAR built.” Taken by a cousin William, the image showed a happy Railton paying a call on relations to show off his creation.
The partners brought their S.R. to Brooklands for 1924’s Easter meeting with Reid Railton nominated as driver. Handicapper “Ebby” Ebblewhite took no chances with this well-bred newcomer, putting it in scratch position with a Bugatti in the 75 mph Short Handicap race. Lapping at an impressive 91.89 mph Railton left the Bugatti behind but could not catch cars and drivers that were handicapped less severely.
Henry Spurrier made good use of the car he helped create, exercising it nearer to Leyland on Southport Sands on the west coast of Lancashire where an active club organized tests of maximum speed. With its engine fitted with four separate carburetors, each feeding its cylinder directly, in the 1925 Southport Speed Trials Spurrier was speedy enough to win the class for novices driving cars of any capacity.
Proving itself anything but an ephemeral lash-up, Reid Railton’s first car went on to an active life at Southport Sands in other hands. Later owners of the S.R. were Kenneth Parker followed by Preston’s Christopher “Chris” Shorrock as a present for his 21stbirthday. Shorrock, who attained a distinguished career as a designer and maker of superchargers, recalled that “Railton, Thomas and Spurrier spent many a lunchtime discussing in detail Railton’s plans to go into production with a high-quality sporting motor car.”
With his engine proven, Reid Railton set about designing a car to carry it. He chose a track of 52 inches and wheelbase of 110.5 inches. Though not so short as the contemporary 1½-liter sports cars, the wheelbase was akin to that of the 2.0-liter French Ballot, a well-respected sports car of the era. It gave scope for both two- and four-seater coachwork. Rudge wire wheels carried 765 x 105 mm tires.
Instead of aping the deep frame members of the Leyland Eight, Railton opted for lightness with slender frame rails. He braced these laterally with four channel-section crossmembers plus the engine’s four bearer arms and an aluminum casting that also carried the steering gear. Semi-elliptic leaf springing was conventional, carrying solid axles front and rear with finned brake drums at all four wheels. Braking was mechanical by the French Perrot system, giving self-energizing at the front.
The clutch was a Railton design while the Moss four-speed transmission—connected to engine and clutch by a short shaft and flexible joint—had an extension to the right of the driver for its shift gate. ENV supplied the spiral-bevel rear axle. An electric fuel pump was a then-innovative feature.
The sports car was “graced by a radiator of particularly smart lines,” thought The Autocar. Tall and tapering toward the top, it had rhomboid character at its top and bottom. A distinguishing feature was the use of black nickel plating for the standard headlamps and side lamps, although coachbuilders and owners could and did fit lamps of their own choice. Bonnet sides had rakish rearward-sloping groups of four louvers. A. P. Compton & Co., Ltd. at Wimbledon was among the companies that built bodies for Railton.
As a first step toward making his dream car a reality Reid Railton set his sights on the town of Letchworth Garden City, north of London, which had a well-developed industrial district. Established in 1903, Letchworth was the first of Britain’s “new towns”, created with the goal of being self-sufficient as a provider of employment opportunities for its inhabitants.
Among the new arrivals in 1914 were Jacques Kryn, a prominent Belgian diamond merchant, with his brother Georges and Raoul Lahy, both engineers. In 1915 these emigrants from Antwerp opened the Kryn and Lahy Metal Works Ltd. to make weapons and bullets for the war. A lodestone for capable Belgians, this became a major employer during the war and continued in business afterward although many of the Belgians returned home.
Initially Railton based himself at Kryn and Lahy, whose expert craftsmen created the foundry patterns, castings and machined parts that he needed to prepare for production. Letchworth also had the facilities he required to assemble his cars. In 1912, Phoenix Motors Ltd. had moved from London to Letchworth to produce its Phoenix motor cars. It erected what was called by historian Allan Lupton “a fine example of early Garden City industrial architecture” which allowed “more or less the whole car to be built in house. Only castings, forgings, magnetos, carburetors and lighting sets seem to have been bought out.
“Behind the two-story front of the works,” added Lupton, “was a conventional set of workshops including machine and fitting shops, smithy, body-building department, paint shop and engine-testing shop.” With the production of Phoenix autos struggling after the war, ample space was available for the erection of Railton’s sports cars. Many parts, both castings and machined components, continued to be supplied by Kryn and Lahy.
C. H. Stroud, an experienced member of Railton’s workshop team, told William Boddy about their methods:
The road springs were attached to the chassis by adjustable mountings, pains being taken to ensure that springs and chassis were absolutely in line before the mountings were dowelled in position. This factor resulted in excellent roadholding.
Each engine was run on a test bed. Railton had the uncanny gift of hearing the tiniest defect before anyone else in the test house was aware of it. For example, when Rotoscope checks were being made at 4,000 rpm to discover whether the valves bounced, Railton ordered the engine to be switched off because he had heard the dynamo seize momentarily!
Each Arab made was taken out on test by Railton himself. One Arab was fitted with four separate carburetors for speed tests on Brooklands Track.
Reid Railton now faced the challenge of marketing his sports car. Here was a discipline in which he had little experience. Although well able to fight his corner in small gatherings, “Oozalong”— as he was nicknamed at Leyland — was not one to speak up publicly to promote his activities and achievements. He would do so more in later life but at the age of 31 in 1926, when his car was ready for the world, Railton was not a natural promoter. He could, however, gain confidence from his warm relationship with the more outgoing Henry Spurrier.
What would his car be called? “Railton” was an obvious choice but perhaps too egotistical. His initials RAR? A better possibility. But playing games with those initials produced ARAB or “Arab”. The word was much in the mind of the British public after the wartime exploits in Arabia of T. E. Lawrence were well publicized not only by journalist Lowell Thomas in his 1924 best-seller With Lawrence in Arabia but also by Lawrence’s own book Seven Pillars of Wisdom. So “Arab” it was. An angular logotype in the art deco style created a badge for the new marque.
The official public launch of the Arab came a month after the 1926 motor show at Olympia. The Autocar of November 19, 1926, published an extensive review of “the arab—a newcomer”. “Small companies are formed to bring new ideas into concrete form,” said the weekly, “and from them great undertakings often grow. Such enterprises help progress along because they enliven competition. One of these ventures is the production of the Arab car, directed at the particular market of the high-speed touring car of medium size.
“The Arab is remarkable for a good many special mechanical features, particularly in the engine,” the article continued. “It is designed by Mr. Reid Railton and the address of the company is Arab Motors, Ltd., Phoenix Works, Letchworth, Herts.” Reid had clearly helped the author of the story appreciate the Arab’s features in a story that depicted its innovations exceptionally well. Included were pictures of a completed car, as well as a chassis in a text that qualified as the first mention by the press of Railton in a context other than as a driver of a car at Brooklands.
“Complete cars with two- or four-seater bodies are priced at £525,” stated The Autocar. “Two-seater models with well-designed streamline bodies are sold with a guaranteed speed of 80 mph and a super-sports two-seater with racing type of body is guaranteed to attain 90 mph, the price of this particular model being £550.”
Reid Railton created his low-slung Super-Sports version by passing the frame below the rear axle, this lower frame carrying forward until the foot well where it rose up to join its forward portion at much the same height as the standard model. An already rakish look was enhanced by extending the wheelbase to 113.0 inches. Lowering the radiator between the front dumb irons and suppressing cowl height gave more racy looks, speed and handling. A slab-type fuel tank at the extreme rear carried 35 gallons.
As illustrated by the cars on display at Olympia in 1927, its pricing placed the Arab at a small but significant premium in its class. Also a two-liter, an imported overhead-cam Ballot cost £495 while a six-cylinder 15/60 h.p. Alfa Romeo could be had for £550. Alvis promised 80 mph from its overhead-valve 12/50 h.p. two-seater at £535. Although only 1½ liters, relative newcomer Aston-Martin had cars of quality at £495 and £575. Chain-drive Frazer Nashes, on show across the street, were priced between £290 and £495. Neither in this nor in any other year was an Arab displayed at Olympia.
One Arab owner recalled “an exceedingly exciting vehicle with amazing acceleration” while another, Odiham’s L. A. Liddell, had an Arab “fitted with a very good-looking two-seater body by Jarvis of Wimbledon with a flat-topped tail. On opening a hatch on the top of the tail a third seat was disclosed. The car was painted a pale greyish green and with bicycle mudguards of darkish green and leather upholstery to match attracted a great deal of attention whenever parked.
“The car was an extremely pleasant one to drive,” added Liddell, “with a maximum speed of about 85 mph. The roadholding was first class and the steering, which was Marles, was a joy. The only real trouble I found was a tendency to break half-shafts, which was cured by somewhat extensive modifications to the bearings in the rear axle.” This was a not-uncommon problem for other owners, evidently to the discredit of axle-maker ENV. Fouling of its sparking plugs, another complaint, would have been Reid’s responsibility.
When Parry Thomas was killed attacking the land-speed record in 1927, his colleagues Ken Taylor and Kenneth Thomson set up Thomson & Taylor (T&T) to take over his facilities, with Railton as their chief engineer. Reid brought the last Arabs and components to their Brooklands base for completion. This was the hour of the Super-Sports model with its lower chassis and bonnet, longer lines and reduced frontal area.
Some hint of the Super-Sports Arab’s characteristics came through impressions of a drive in a restored car in 1983 by William Boddy, editor of Motor Sport:
The gear lever is inside the body on the right, in a man-sized gate with very wide slots, the gear positions reminiscent of those of a vintage Vauxhall, i.e., first and second are to the right, outboard of third and top, with reverse, guarded by a lift-up catch, beyond second.
The stubby lever operates a very easy change but there is an unfortunately wide gap between the third gear and top-gear ratios. The drop from third to second goes in especially nicely, but the clutch bites only at the end of the pedal travel, giving the impression that it is fierce on first acquaintance, which it is not.
It runs unexpectedly quietly, apart from a little tappet noise, both as to engine and gearbox. The Arab rides quite softly for a car of this vintage, the chassis is somewhat flexible, the cable brakes notably effective. The steering is light and sensibly geared. The engine has a Marelli magneto and a Claudel-Hobson carburetor with one main jet coming in after the other under progressive throttle opening.
There is a feeling that perhaps these “gas-works” tend to throttle the power output, as in its day the Arab was good for some 90 mph and was reputed to be able to see off 3-liter Bentleys and other cars of that caliber. But at least it gives around 26 mpg at a useful 60 to 70 mph cruising speed.
“The steering is precise and quite unusually light,” said Michael Brisby of a restored Super-Sports Arab, “so it pays to let the car find its own way over poor surfaces and let the wheel dance in your hands. I felt that the Arab turned into a corner very well but then appeared to tighten its line a little so that lock had to be paid off slightly. In fact the car’s slightly nervous behavior in the initial stages of a corner is something you quickly get used to and once settled the car behaves well through the corner and on the exit.”
The low-chassis Arab lent itself to spectacular coachwork. For one of them owner Tim Powell commissioned from Compton a coupe body that made the Arab one of the most striking road cars of its time. Polished aluminum cycle wings flanked a black body with a flat-topped coupe roof and arcuate side windows that hinted at a helmeted warrior of the future.
“In general appearance the car is distinctly striking,” thought The Autocar. “The lines are out of the ordinary without, however, giving any effect of freakishness.” That this bold creation was close to Railton’s heart was shown by his retention throughout his life of a card showing its shape in profile.
Although the coupe did not survive in its original form, its chassis did with open sports coachwork. A similar open body, with a door on the passenger side only and an external handbrake, graced another Super-Sports Arab that left T&T in March 1929. From an estimated 10-11 Arabs produced these two survived to provide tangible evidence of the earliest independent design activity of Reid Antony Railton.
Meanwhile, Henry Spurrier III had been enjoying the use of one of the original Arabs. Such was his passion for the sprints at Southport that he eventually stripped it for racing, fitting low-drag aluminum bodywork that shrouded the dumb irons and tapered to a pointed tail.
Finding his Arab fast but not fast enough to cope with its Southport rivals, Spurrier asked Leyland experimental engineer Newton Iddon to equip the car with a Bradford-built Berk triple-lobe Roots-type blower. The first result was a blown head gasket. Fitted with a solid copper gasket, the Arab speedster was timed at 105 mph at Southport and showed startling acceleration. The car’s next owner, John Davis, entered it at Shelsley Walsh hill climb on September 24, 1927, with Norman Coates as its driver.
Doings at Southport Sands in remotest Lancashire were mentioned briefly if at all in motoring journals. Such exploits were hardly likely to draw attention to Railton’s still-new Arab. Neither were rare reports like the lively ascent of Shelsley Walsh on July 2, 1927, by E. M. Dixon in an Arab touring car, beaten in his class only by an eight-cylinder Bugatti.
Now at Brooklands, Railton and his cars were at the epicenter of sporting cars in Great Britain. Every race meeting was covered in detail. Reid had only to take one of his Super-Sports out on the track to verify the guaranteed 90 mph with which it was advertised. Even better, he could race it as he had done so convincingly with his S.R. earlier. However he did neither, clearly considering this part of his life to be at an end.
Interest in Arabs slowly dissipated. When in October 1936 T&T received an enquiry about Arab spares, Ken Thomson had to advise “that we do not keep spare parts for these cars. At one time we had a small quantity, having taken over the stock of spares from the Arab company. Now we have practically nothing on hand worth considering.” He added that “the Arab car was designed and produced by Reid A. Railton who is a director of this company.” Indeed it was.
This article on Reid Railton and his Arabs is part of a fascinating new book by Karl Ludvigsen, Reid Railton—Man of Speed, available from specialist and online booksellers. For more information visit evropublishing.com
