The Crowood Press
£45 /$65 US / $86 CAN
ISBN 978-0-71984-249-8
Available from www.crowood.com
This hefty tome stretches to just over 300 pages and is crammed full of 500 fascinating photos, many of which have never been published before. Despite the age of the images, almost all are fantastic quality; sharp, contrasty and well-exposed, and they are all bolstered with insightful and interesting captions.
Meanwhile, the detailed words recount the story of the Morgan Motor Company’s development from tiny Edwardian car factory on the edge of Malvern, to a slightly larger Elizabethan car factory enveloped by the town. The period described runs from the late-1800s, with the Morgan family led by patriarch and vicar, George Morgan, right through to the heyday of the British sports car in the 1960s.
Author Martyn Webb sets the scene by describing the transport landscape in late-Victorian Britain, a thriving and innovative period when the internal combustion engine began to supersede the steam engine. It was in this environment that Henry Frederick Stanley Morgan (known as Harry or, now, H.F.S) embraced the exciting engineering of the period, eschewing a life in the clergy to pursue his love for machines.
From the first Morgan cyclecar in 1909, through the death of the three-wheeler, two World Wars, two family chairmen, economic challenges and hostile takeover bids, the Morgan Motor Company never did things in a conventional way. Webb explains all the ups and downs of the business in very readable, accessible and engaging text, which is a good job, because there’s a helluva lot of it.
The author put his heart and soul into this book for several years, researching the fine detail and polishing the words to create what must be the pre-eminent history of this distinguished brand.
Even now, I love to learn stuff, and every column of copy in this book delivers interesting and quirky facts and a fascinating commentary on the social history of the period.
For example, early on it explains how many people were not enamoured by the new automotive combustion-engined technology that H.F.S was utilising, preferring to stick with horses (history repeating itself?). I also learned the part John Alfred Prestwich played in Morgan’s development (Have a guess!).
Harry’s garage, while not loved by all, was a huge success and brought the rich and famous to Malvern. These early vehicles were not very reliable, so it was handy to have a repairer nearby, and the more adventurous cyclecar drivers loved to pit their vehicles against Malvern’s extreme topography! This meant that local hotels and hostelries supported Harry’s endeavours, and the Morgan brand was off to a flying start.
On 27 March, 1912, Harry entered his cyclecar in a race at Brooklands. A leading motorcycle racer of the time, Harry Martin, was piloting Morgan’s mobile. Together they ‘made like Red Bull’, and absolutely thrashed the opposition. The vehicle hit 60mph and finished 2.5 mins ahead of the nearest opposition (in an eight-minute race)! Unlike Red Bull, H.F.S’s success was down to his laser focus on simple, low-cost designs, allied with race reliability.
One of my favourite parts of the book, is Chapter 10 – The Morgan Factory in Wartime. This reveals how the company adapted to the challenges of global conflict, including losing some of its young, male workers to conscription as early as Spring 1939.
In fact, H.F.S’s son, Peter, who was 19 at the outbreak of war, tried to sign up to be an engineer in the Navy. However, he was told ‘we haven’t got any boats at the moment’, and left Admiralty House ‘quite crestfallen’. A few days later, he found himself at an Army Recruitment Centre, standing before ‘a charming old Brigadier’, who immediately cherry picked him for the Royal Army Service Corps; the engineering wing of the Army before REME was fully-established.
As the tale unwinds, the Morgan works was commandeered as a ‘shadow factory’ for the war effort. H.F.S, as a pacifist, wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of his facility manufacturing weapons of war, and profiting from conflict, but his patriotism and his desire for the Morgan Motor Company to survive prevailed, and the factory began making munitions and other military hardware. By early 1940, ‘an extensive military presence surrounded the factory’.
Post-war, there were no cars to build in 1945 and 1946! Steel was a much sought-after commodity, but H.F.S did at least have plenty of staff. Female engineers, trained up for the war effort, had proven themselves every bit as good as their male counterparts, and Morgan’s conscripted men had begun to return from the territories where they’d been fighting.
In 1960, Peter Morgan took the reins of the company, and reconfigured its finances and its management structure. He also modernised the manufacturing business, but one thing remained the same, and that was a focus on staff and management loyalty and longevity, with most of the board having been involved for decades.
These individuals saw the Morgan Motor Company through a decade of opportunity and threat, ending the 1960s with the potent V8-powered Plus 8 as part of its portfolio.
So, we sit here over 50 years later, wondering how on Earth little old Morgan rebuffed the forces of globalisation and automation, yet somehow continued to trade and innovate from its tiny factory on the side of a big hill.
It's true that Morgan is an automotive conundrum, though Martyn Webb’s comprehensive hardback goes a long way in revealing the passion, persistence and personalities that made Morgan such a lovable, resilient and unique brand. The tale is told with a light touch that makes every fact-filled column and page a fascinating read. If like me, you’re intrigued by the Morgan enigma, you’ll love it.