AEC 1922 S.-type LGOC double-decker
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WHEN the AEC S-type double-decker was the cream of London buses, a driver was paid £4 a week, his conductor £3 15s and the full 13.3-mile journey of the No. 12 bus from The Plough at Dulwich to the Princess Victoria at Uxbridge Road, Shepherd's Bush, cost exactly 8d. And a pint of beer cost about 4d. That was in 1922, when the S-type, the third model specially built for the London General Omnibus Co., was introduced.
The S-type was preceded by the B and K types and was the second passenger chassis from the Walthamstow works of AEC to have the driver's position alongside the engine. With its rather luxurious accommodation on the lower deck and the definitely spartan seating on the upper, it provided a capacity for no fewer than 54 seated passengers.
The late Mr. Charles W. Banfield was intimately connected with the S-type. As an LGOC driver in 1926 he drove S-types on the No. 12 route out of Nunhead Garage at Peckham. One morning Charles was called before garage superintendent Dillon and asked whether he owned a 20-seater Garford. He admitted owning the beast and was sacked--for competing with his employers. So the South East London coach firm of C. W. Banfield was born.
Many years later, when he owned the old Nunhead Garage and a substantial coach fleet, Mr. Banfield told his son Michael that he thought it would be a good idea to restore an old S-type they had found derelict on a farm; he wanted it preserved for the benefit of future generations as a part of London's history. This task, which took a year and a half, was completed in 1968 and recently Michael Banfield lent us the vehicle for this Christmas road test.
The S-type was a goodscum-passenger chassis powered by an AEC J-type four-cylinder 35 hp side-valve petrol engine. It was available in either normal-control form Of, as I have already mentioned, with forward control. Models were made for London with three-speed gearboxes and for provincial work with four-speed boxes. The rear axle had an underslung worm and wheel and the braking system was fully manual, operating through rods to a pair of concentric drums on each rear wheel. The inner of these two drums served as the handbrake and the outer as the foot brake.
Route 12 The vehicle tested was originally delivered new to the Nunhead Garage on October 2 1922 and used on various services until withdrawn from service in 1931. As it has been refurbished with the route boards of the No. 12, I decided that the test should be run over that route at the schedule laid down when the vehicle first saw servive.
We left Nunhead Garage one bright and not-too-cold Sunday morning and made for the start of the route at The Plough, Dulwich. We departed from The Plough promptly at 11.10 a.m. and went on our way intecling to halt at all the compulsory No. 12 stops and occasionally at request stops along the route. I soon discovered the clutch was delightfully light (only 401b), but as the route starts off downhill I did not discover the snags attached to the three-speed gearbox until later. . . . Being a cone clutch it was, of course, quite fierce and kicked up the characteristic squeal and moan if engaged in the least too quickly. However, gentle and quiet starts are certainly not an impossibility, particularly when the friction surfaces have been warmed up a bit.
One of the things that helps considerably in controlling the clutch very finely is the hinged pedal plate. Instead of the driver having to bend his ankle to suit the changing angle of the clutch pedal, he can adopt the most comfortable attitude for his foot, the changing angles being absorbed through the plate hinge. This avoids his having to slide his foot over the surface of the pedal as it is released to engage the clutch, giving him a much finer feel of what is going on. The footbrake is hinged, too, making the application of high pressure (which would be needed when the vehicle was fully laden and required to stop a bit smartly) considerably easier on the driver.
All the while the vehicle is facing downhill, or is at least on level ground, gear changes can be made with silky smoothness. The S-type does have a crash box, of course, which means that the driver must double de-clutch and judge the time when tooth speeds of the two gears to be meshed are precisely the same. The slightest miscalculation results in a heart-rending crash and black looks from the passengers.
Having only a three-speed box, the LGOC S-type featured a very wide gap between first and second gear ratios—these are necessary to give the vehicle adequate grade-ability from a relatively low-powered engine while still having a fair turn of speed. The result of this is that the time required for the engine revs to die down is longer than that required for the vehicle to stop rolling, even on the slightest incline, and so one has to resort to slip changes. Drivers familiar only with synchromesh gearboxes may not be versed in this method of changing gear. It needs a fair degree of experience of a particular vehicle and entails slipping the teeth or dogs of a transmission together at the instant their speeds coincide, which is only momentary, rather than waiting for the engine speed to subside. When the clutch pedal is released the engine revs are smartly pulled down relative to the road speed and the ratio engaged. The cycle time using this method depends on how quickly the driver can move the controls, but it is considerably less than when waiting for the engine to die down. In fact I checked the J-type engine's dying-down time and it proved to be nearly four seconds, whereas I was slip changing (not always successfully, I might add) in under a second.
Moving off from stops situated on an incline sometimes precluded a change of gear until the road flattened off. A typical example was the stop sited at the southern approach to Westminster Bridge. I deliberately halted in order to check on the possibility of slipping through to second gear—finding that this just could not be done.
The steering accuracy of this vehicle has to be sampled to be believed. I find many modern vehicles difficult to keep on a straight line when travelling in congested conditions, but the S-type can be relied on to go exactly where it is aimed. Neither are there any reversals and harsh kicks through the steering gear, which might be expected. Most certainly the feel of the machine is there all the time and I have no doubt at all that in the days of tramlines, wood-block and stone-sett road surfaces, the antics cut by the S-type an wet days were a bit hair-raising.
The original total terminus-to-terminus route time was set at 79 minutes. Although I admit to treating the vehicle very gently right through the trip westward, I had made 23 stops of 15 seconds duration and, despite it being a Sunday, was running 13.5 minutes late at the end of the trip.
I was greatly impressed by the amount of "poke" turned out by the tiny (by present-day standards) 35 hp engine. Considering the 4.5 to 1 axle ratio it Gould be driven down to a remarkably low speed in top gear (although there was no speedometer, I judged this to be 8 to 10 mph) without any of the attendent roughness apparent in modern machines. Despite the diminutive size of the engine it would accelerate smoothly away in top up to around 22 mph without the slightest sign of effort. True there were only 10 people aboard and the vehicle is now virtually in mint condition but even today these are ideal characteristics for city vehicles.
Roars of laughter At the western terminus of the route, the Princess Victoria, Shepherd's Bush, I changed over with Banfield's chief engineer, Kevin Pickering, who drove the return route while I sampled the passenger comforts.
On several occasions while driving I heard roars of laughter from the lower saloon and not until I was riding passenger did I find out why—four times during the 13-mile return journey prospective passengers for the No. 12 tried to board the S-type apparently unaware that there was anything odd about it. One couple in their twenties raced across Westminster Bridge and leapt breathlessly onto the platform exclaiming, "we only just made it". They were quite indignant when told that the vehicle was private and not working the service. "Ifs a No. 12," said the young lady fiercely, "and that's the bus we want; we wouldn't have run otherwise!"
Even when sitting in the driving seat, exposed to the elements and virtually on top of the engine, I thought the noise level of the vehicle was remarkably low; once inside the lower saloon it was difficult even by present-day standards to fault the vehicle. The speed at which it was travelling was about half that of modern buses but the S-type rode as smoothly as, if not smoother than, its counterparts of today; and the noise level was considerably less, unless the driver made a hash of changing gear. Gearbox noise was not unpleasant, just that subdued "moaning" so pleasing to the ear of the enthusiast.
The lower saloon seats are remarkably comfortable with their upholstered cushions and bentwood backs and plenty of knee room is permitted by the very slim seat backs. Although two fairly high steps lead to the platform, considering the vehicle features a straight frame, this seems by no means unreasonable. There is headroom for a 6ft 3in-tall passenger to stand in the saloon without stooping.
At night the upper deck gangway was illuminated by a single electric lamp which also served to light the top of the stairs.
On the open top deck it is impractical to have upholstered seats; weather protection for empty seats and hardy passengers consists of storm sheets together with a notice telling passengers "in wet weather refix cover over seat". However, the ride on the wooden top deck seats was quite good. I could feel the jarring of the solid-tyred wheels passing over such things as metal road-marking studs, for instance, but apart from these and jolts from sharp protrusions, there was no evidence of solid tyres being fitted. We completed the run eastwards in 85 minutes (six minutes outside the schedule), making 22 stops, and at the end of the two-way journey we topped up the fuel tank to measure the fuel consumption, 5.5gal being added to bring the level up to that at which we started the journey. Later I checked the mileage 26.6—which gave a fuel consumption of 4.85 mpg. The average overall road speed for the trip was 5.5 mph.
As tested the S-type weighed approximately 5 tons 14cwt, its registration weight, 5 tons 1cwt 2qr, being painted on the side of the bus against "U.W." with two more figures alongside the legends FA. and H.A. It appears that the LGOC referred to the rear axle as the hind axle, and although the weights shown do not add up to a figure that would represent the total all-up load I am assured that this is in fact to what it refers; the extra few hundredweight that I calculated using a passenger weight of 1401b could probably have been overlooked by the authorities because the S-type was a slightly heavier vehicle than its predecessors.
Altogether it was a fascinating and illuminating experience to drive the S-type; although I have had a fair amount of experience with what are now considered ancient vehicles, it proved to be far and away the most advanced and pleasant of all the oldies I have handled.