(submitted by Derek B.) My wife’s Aunt Nell was married to a chap called Bill Luckins, who was connected to the Motor Trade in Brighton, West Sussex, England before WW1. The following images are from his collection and are all about 3” x 2” in size.
A Chauffeur attempting to start this car, with the Owner standing to the side and a child sat on the rear seat wearing a cap held down by a tied scarf. Being a sunny day, the fabric hood has been folded down. A gas lamp post, part of contemporary street furniture is located on the pavement.
Possibly a Renault Laundaulet outside the Metropole Hotel in Brighton. The liveried Chauffeur appears to be looking in a box or case at the rear of the car.
A Brighton & Hove Omnibus (Registration Plate CD 523-Brighton) outside the London and County Bank, whilst a one legged man crosses the street. The front wheels are considerably smaller than the rear ones. A horse-drawn waggon appears from the left.
An open top sporting two seater roadster (Registration Plate LC 7419-London North West) passes the Old Ship Hotel with considerable speed, with the Lady Passenger holding on to her hat. Without mudguards it must have been a very dirty car to travel in when it was wet. Just behind the driver can be seen a ‘wicker basket, made from strips of willow’.
With the Driver appearing to be adjusting something on the fascia of this car (Registration Plate DP.9-8-Reading), the photographer seems to be in a most vulnerable position. The Driver has a pair of goggles attached to his hat, which would have been essential attire when most of the roads would have been unpaved.
It is hard to say if this car has just arrived or about to depart from the Metropole Hotel. The man stood in the rear of the car looks as if he is adjusting the scarf of his fellow passenger. The Driver wears an informal cap which may indicate that he is also the Owner.
A road-side photograph of a relatively small car (Registration Plate R 363-Derbyshire). The roof and sidescreens may be removable. The man crouched on the running board wears mechanics overalls and has a can of petroleum spirit in a can behind him. The others are more soberly dressed, with the chap on the kerb wears a straw boater hat.
A smiling driver sits in the driving seat of the car (Registration Plate GH 199-London South West). The engine compartment cover looks as if it is hinged to help cool down the motor. The rear passenger compartment resembles a horse-drawn Hanson Cab.
A beautifully polished car being started by its Chauffeur, outside the Metropole Hotel. A spare tyre lies on top of the roof above the driver, whilst the rear seat passenger benefit from a folding roof.
A goods-truck (Registration Plate A 566-London[1905]), with driver sat precariously high at the front drives along the sea-front between Brighton and Hove. Plenty of horse manure lies on the road, which would continue to do so until the early 1930s.
Why were all rubber tyres white, and how did they do it?
Rubber is naturally white. Coloring it black and adding chemicals to it make it more durable.
I learned that it is impossible(!) to reproduce brass era tires. The closest reproduction does not meet the real color, but because people don’t know, it does not matter that much. So there must be some secret (or forbidden) stuff in brass era tires. That’s what I meant.
The earliest tires were natural rubber, which is tan or beige. Later, carbon (lampblack) was added to the mixture which made it more durable. You can still see natural off-white rubber on some expensive bicycle tires.
They liked really wide whitewalls. 🙂
https://www.google.com/amp/s/jalopnik.com/heres-why-tires-are-black-1828925177/amp
The first car tyres were white, not black, as the colour comes from the carbon black that is added to the tyre during manufacture to greatly improve wear and heat dissipation. The natural colour of rubber is an off-white and the gleaming colour of those early tyres came from zinc oxide added to the mix
Zinc oxide! THIS could be it !
Maybe zinc oxide is forbidden today. That’s why we will never know how those tires really looked like in their time.
I love these!
Wonderful.
The lack of traffic on the streets is almost bizarre.
These are amazing photos, and I hope someone somewhere will be able to identify some of the cars. They really were just rich men’s playthings – and Brighton was where Edwardian rich men went to play, not always with their own wives…
Of course, Brighton is doubly appropriate as it is to this day the destination of the annual Veteran Car Run, which starts in London, motors 60-odd miles through the Downs, and ends up on Brighton’s Madeira Drive. This event is open only to cars built before 1905. It is explicitly NOT a race.
One of the star cars every year is of course the 1904 Darracq Genevieve, star of the 1953 movies, when veteran cars were newer than original Mustangs are today.
You can read up about the London-Brighton run here:
https://www.veterancarrun.com/
Good god, the Mustang thought is startling. That Darracq in ’53 is a a ’70 Mustang today. I saw the film on TV as a little kid 20+ years on from ’53, but in my mind, the times blur – surely I saw it new? – and the Mustang idea makes me feel older than dust!
Edwardian England, when the rich were the richest they would ever be.
These contraptions look crude, horse-drawn to us (or me), but Edwardian taste was pretty extravagant. These were cutting edge, and perhaps even avant-garde as objects, with their grand snow-plough guards and brass and pinstriping. The shiny laundalette really strikes me this way. With the roof folded back, and the driver’s bit skimpily hard-hatted, it’s almost abstract in profile, a pencil sketch of car – jaunty, strange, and most beguiling.
Very enjoyable glimpses.
The chauffeur rings a bell. My Grandfather George Brown left school in 1911 age 12 and went to work with his father as a fish porter in London’s Billingsgate market. It’s lost to history how he learned to drive but by 1914 age 15 he was supplementing his porter’s wage by driving cars for rich folk in North London.
I have no idea how many people bought cars in the pre-WW1 era but couldnt (and posibly never did) drive themn themselves – quite a high proportion I think. If you could afford a car you could afford someone to drive it: the remarkable thing is that they would hire a 15 year old working class lad from the East End…
George signed up for the Royal Flying Corps as soon as he was 18, served for 4 months before he was shot down but after the war returned to part time chauffering to supplement his income as a technical draftsman, at least until the mid 20s. He couldn’t afford his own car until well into the 30s.
What’s a “fish porter”?