(first posted 2/21/2017) The CC Deadly Sins World Tour moves to the United Kingdom, a country that made so many DSs, it could be a rival to GM. As previously stated, let’s squeeze past the elephant in the room (British Leyland, which is worthy of its own series) and focus on smaller, more exotic fauna. Jowett, Armstrong Siddeley and Daimler: three very different companies that committed very different Deadly Sins within three different market segments in the ‘50s. Let’s start with the smallest car and work our way up.
Jowett were a relatively small player on the UK car scene in the ‘30s. Based in Yorkshire when most of the industry was in Southern England, Jowett pursued their own way of doing things since their first cars hit the market in 1910. Jowett specialized in small family cars powered by twin-cylinder engines, an uncommon approach in Britain at the time. A new plant was built in Idle, near Bradford, just after the First World War, churning out little 7 HP cars and vans for over a decade.
In 1935, the Jowett brothers elected to retire after 30 years at the helm just as a 1.2 litre flat-4 appeared (the 10 HP). A new 1 litre flat-twin model (8 HP) was also offered from 1936. The company was weathering the Depression thanks to its small, relatively inexpensive offerings, though the 10 HP was not exactly a runaway success (about 1600 made in 1937-40). Jowett’s little commercial van, the Bradford, was selling quite well and kept the firm in the black. But there was no denying that, by 1939, Jowett was in dire need of a new product to sell.
When the Luftwaffe started bombing Britain in 1940, Jowett’s factory, so far away from Coventry or London, escaped the destruction that befell so many of its competitors. Like them, Jowett halted car production and focused on the war effort, while dedicating a small team of employees to think about the future. In 1942, work on the post-war car started through the hiring of Gerald Palmer (1911-1999). Born in England and raised in Southern Rhodesia, Palmer returned to his native land aged 16 to develop his budding engineering skills. He started as an apprentice with lorry-maker Scammell and earned a degree in engineering by his mid-20s. During his spare time, he designed and built a sports car, the Deroy, which caught the eye of Morris decision-makers. Palmer was hired by the automaker in 1937 to work on the new MG Y-Type.
Palmer was given a clean sheet of paper at Jowett. Letting his imagination run free, he designed a car that would be spacious, comfortable and aerodynamic. To minimize front overhang and lower the centre of gravity, the engine would be an all-new flat-4. To keep weight in check, Palmer designed an all-steel unibody. Gone were the mudguard-like fenders, vertical grilles and separate headlamps still common in European cars in general and British cars in particular. Palmer was obviously looking at the Lincoln Zephyr for inspiration, but he may also have seen the Naum Gabo model that was made at the time (though not commissioned by Jowett itself). All-round torsion bar suspension was designed with a relatively high ground clearance, to marry comfort and performance with the ability to handle the Imperial markets’ rough road network. Rounding off this technical cornucopia were hydro-mechanical brakes (hydraulic at the front and cable-operated at the rear, as was pretty common in Britain in those days) and the fashionable column gear change. In the whole car, the only things of import not designed by Palmer and his team were the 4-speed Meadows gearbox and the Salisbury rear axle.
The first prototype was on the road by August 1944, but it took a while for Jowett to sort out the production of the new Javelin, during which time they only produced Bradford vans and pick-ups. The Javelin’s body was outsourced to Briggs Motor Bodies, the British subsidiary of the American Briggs company. Well-orchestrated PR meant the new Jowett was eagerly anticipated by the motoring press and the public at large: most cars coming out of British factories in 1946-47 were basically pre-war models, whereas the Jowett promised to be a completely new mid-range car from a company that had only made smaller models up to that point.
In early 1947, a few pre-production Javelins were tested by the press, who heaped compliments over accolades on it like it was the second coming. The Javelin, as well as the equally modern-looking Standard Vanguard, were the stars of the British automotive world in 1947. Palmer’s previous effort, the MG Y-Type, looked outdated by comparison. Jowett’s sales took off like a rocket thanks to the late ‘40s seller’s market.
The Javelin’s price increased substantially in its first year of production as Jowett struggled to meet demand and revised its costs. The 1.2 to 1.8 litre segment was very crowded in those days – Javelins competed with over 15 other models. At £819 by 1948 (including the 33.3% purchase tax) in De Luxe trim, it was rather expensive for a 1.5 litre car (RAC tax rating: 12 HP), so it was pitted against the Jaguar 1 ½ litre (£953), the Lanchester LD10 (£927), the Riley RM 1 ½ litre (£863) or the Singer Super 12 (£768). The 12 HP Austins, Hillmans or Vauxhalls all cost less than £500; even the other Palmer-designed car, the MG YA, was significantly cheaper at £672.
The Javelin’s performance and spacious cabin meant it did compete with 14-16 HP (circa 1.8 to 2.3 litres) cars made by larger British automakers, but those were still usually cheaper. (To get a fuller picture, one of the cheapest cars, the Ford 8 HP Anglia, cost £293; one of the most expensive, the Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith, cost £2035 in chassis form, requiring double or triple that price again for a bespoke body. Cars selling for over £1000 were subject to a 66.6% purchase tax after June 1947.)
It was perhaps unavoidable that some nagging teething issues would rear their ugly head by this point. Palmer’s twin-carbureted 52 BHP water-cooled OHV flat-4, consisting of two aluminum alloy blocks and cast iron heads, was a rather advanced design, but the quality of materials used was not as good as expected. The engine’s most annoying early maladies included chronic overheating, due to the radiator’s location behind the engine, and brittle crankshafts. The overheating problem was never completely resolved: later engines usually fared better in this regard but would take a very long time to run at a high enough temperature in cold weather. Palmer, meanwhile, had been tempted back to Nuffield to work on the new generation of MGs and Wolseleys, so Jowett had to find cures for the flat-4’s troubles without the help of its creator.
The early troubles were being sorted out while Jowett started to develop a companion car for the Javelin. The British government was pushing for automakers to export of die, and Jowett needed to comply. One type of car that exported well was the rugged, sporty British drop-top. To ensure success, Jowett teamed up with ERA, one of the top racing teams in the country. A prototype Jowett-ERA car was soon designed and built, using a completely new tubular frame chassis designed by Robert Eberan von Eberhorst, the Javelin’s wonderful torsion bar suspension and a tuned version of the flat-4 that produced 62 bhp @ 4500 rpm. Jowett were satisfied with the results from a technical standpoint, but the ERA prototype’s appearance was deemed unacceptable.
Jowett head designer Reg Korner went back to the drawing board to design the roadster. The results are certainly distinctive, but fussy detailing and an oddly-proportioned soft top made the new Jupiter a tougher sell than MG, Singer or Sunbeam-Talbot roadsters. Nevertheless, the Jupiter was hailed as a welcome addition to Jowett’s range when it debuted at the 1950 Geneva Motor Show, having been only seen in chassis form at Earl’s Court the previous year. It cost £1087 after tax – about £150 less than the Jaguar XK 120, but also around £350 more than the MG TD roadster, whose sporting capacities were also universally acknowledged.
If one did not find the factory-bodied Jupiter agreeable, Jowett would happily provide a chassis for the client to take to the coachbuilder of his or her choice. Quite a few folks did just that: about 75 Jupiters were bodied by various British and European coachbuilders. As expected, some efforts were downright bizarre and others were quite stunning. A small selection above: top row, Beutler of Switzerland and Abbott of Farnham (Surrey); middle row, the one of the four Stabilimenti Farina coupés and an odd-looking Coachcraft copycat; bottom row, a fastback coupé made by Jowett’s Danish importer Ole Sommer and a Ghia-Aigle convertible.
Jowett entered cars in several races to prove their worth, and won many trophies as a result. Both the Javelin and the Jupiter found success in the grueling Monte-Carlo rally and several other European races where the mere act of finishing was an achievement in itself.
The Jupiter also won its class at Le Mans in 1950 and 1951. The halo effect resulting from these impressive feats did translate in an uptick of Jowett sales in those years, albeit quite a modest one. Prices for the Javelin had moved north of the £1000-mark, which did counteract the Le Mans effect a bit.
In an effort to control costs, Jowett decided to produce their own gearboxes, which up to then had been supplied by Meadows. Alas, cutting gear cogs proved to be a tad more complex than Jowett had expected. From late 1951, when the Meadows contract was rescinded, the Javelin and Jupiter gearboxes would be the main engineering stumbling block – and one that was entirely of Jowett’s own making.
Not only that, but it soon became clear that the hotter Jupiter flat-4 was consequently more fragile and prone to the familiar Javelin issues (overheating and crankshaft failures), as well as head gasket and valvetrain problems. The Jupiter would have to grin and bear these faults for its first year of production. However, it did receive all-round dual-circuit hydraulic brakes, as did the Javelin, in 1951.
The gearbox issue was compounded by supply and demand mismatches throughout the production line. Jowett’s sales abroad were plummeting, as many other British automakers’, due to increased competition from all sides. UK sales were still pretty healthy, but distribution was not up to scratch: some dealers had no cars to sell, others had far too much stock. The issues were also mounting on the production line, as Jowett’s ageing factory could not keep up with demand. Briggs provided all the bodies required, but there were not enough platforms and engines being made, and those that did lacked a gearbox. Javelin shells and incomplete chassis were piling up in and around the Bradford plant at an alarming rate.
Production had to be halted to manage the glut of Javelin bodies and resolve the gearbox issue. Rally victories notwithstanding, Jowett’s future was now in jeopardy. The last Bradford van came off the assembly line in 1952; its replacement, the CD project, wasn’t yet ready for prime time. Jowett’s bottom line was going to be affected by this in the very short term.
Car production was restarted when the gearboxes were sorted out by early 1953, but the public was now weary of the six-year-old Javelin, whose style, compared to the latest Vauxhall or Hillman, was starting to look stale. The coup de grâce (rhymes with “grass”, please, everyone) came when Ford UK announced they were buying out Briggs in mid-1953. Jowett had nowhere else to turn for its bodies. The Javelin’s passing was now imminent.
Now reduced to the slow-selling Jupiter, Jowett took a long hard look at their operation and decided to close shop. The final Jowett Jupiter roll off the production line in November 1954. However, compared to many similar cases both in the UK and elsewhere, the winding down of Jowett was exemplary. All suppliers were paid to the last penny and the overwhelming majority of the workers were transitioned to the new factory owners. A company was formed to supply Jowett and Bradford parts to the thousands of grateful owners for another decade or so.
The Javelin was a promising car, coming at the right time with the rights arsenal of technical features. Unfortunately, engine woes were followed by gearbox and production problems that made it less and less attractive in a very tough market segment. From 1947 to 1953, about 23,000 were produced. The Jupiter was even more of a flop, with about 900 (some say 1000) made in four years. Both together, Jowett’s flat-4 cars were made in fewer units than the antiquated (but cheap and sturdy) Bradford van.
As we can see from the video above, Javelins are fondly remembered by those who got to know them. The Jowett Car Co. was a David to the Goliaths that were Ford, Austin or Rootes, and its management committed a series of unforced errors that ensured its demise, a mere decade after the war. Still, as Lord Montagu of Beaulieu wrote in The Lost Causes of Motoring: “Better to go out in a blaze of glory with a Jupiter than to be badge-engineered into oblivion.”
Let’s kick it up a notch tomorrow in Part 2 of this all-‘50s British DS series and take a look at Armstrong Siddeley, another unjustly forgotten automaker.
Very impressive research and article!
One of those cars that I knew existed, but that’s about it. Thank you very much for the article.
For some unexplained reason four Bradford CDs ended up in New Zealand, a place where Bradford vans and pickups were quite common even Javelins were about in reasonable numbers untill the parts supply dried up, Ive seen a couple of Jupiters at shows and on the road but they are a rare sight there was a Javelin at a car show a couple of weeks back but I didnt take a pic the pink Bradford wagon and Dragonfly replica were far more interesting
The Bradford wagon from the back Javelin on its left
Cool stuff, Bryce!
I found this very nice vintage photo of a Bradford van (well, pickup) in NZ while researching this post. Couldn’t fit it in, but it deserves to be shared with connoisseurs such as your good self…
That pic has been on a classic car facebook site I belong to, connoisseur? not really a friend had a van as his first car in the 70s I had a Triumph Herald I think now the Bradford was a better vehicle I just keep an interest in them especially the Dragonfly special its quite unique here though only a replica, I like it anyway.
The one called the Dragonfly was one of 3 Bradford Specials built in the late 60s by the NZ guy. 2 survive. They both look different . The guy that restored it in the late 90s/2000s called it the dragonfly. My mother did the design artwork for the badge.
Interesting, so there were 3 I didnt know that, Bradfords arrived complete to the cowl so you could buy one and put anything from there back most people had a locally built van/station wagon or drop sider flat deck fitted there was a mob churning out van bodies next to the GM dealership my dad worked at when their business died off and the closed my dads firm bought the building as a workshop for Massey Ferguson tractors they had taken on without enough space.
It seems that five were exported in 1954. Today [2023] one is restored in the Ray Win museum, the first has been rebodied into a sports car and the remaining two are in store. The fifth has disappeared completely.
Very cruel to call this a deadly sin. The Jowetts were great cars in their day, particularly for the short period between the crankshaft issues being resolved and production ceasing. The Jupiter was a little ungainly looking, but a fine car, and very popular as an everyday drive for racing drivers. However, even the factory body was pretty much hand made, which would have made it expensive to produce. If Jaguar hadn’t produced the XK120 ( at an amazingly low price) the Jupiter would have been more popular.
I can remember seeing that colour advertisement in a car magazine, back in the day ( I was reading car mags at a very young age).
Thank you for the video.
It’s no slight on the car itself to be labelled a “Deadly Sin”, it just means it precipitated the company’s downfall.
I think these cars are absolutely wonderful in almost every way. The styling, the technique, the chutzpah it took to bring this to the post-war UK market — it’s all extremely admirable in spite of the many mistakes that Jowett did in the industrialization and commercialization of these cars.
I’m not sure how the Jupiter could have made it even without the XK120. Its styling, cost and limited speed worked against it, as did Jowett’s non-existent dealer network in the US. Many British sports cars tried to emulate MG and Jag back in those days (Austin Atlantic, Alvis TB14, Daimler Conquest, Riley RMC, etc.) without export success. It’s a mighty tough nut to crack.
If they hadn’t tried to make the gearbox themselves, Jowett might have survived a bit longer, say into the late ’60s or even further.
How could they survive, after Ford bought Briggs ? Without the Javelin they were finished.
I find it interesting that two competing vans were called “Bradford” and “Bedford”. I don’t think that could happen today. One firm would sue the other for sounding “too similar”.
Even more confusingly, neither was associated with Ford.
But no Englishman would get “Bradford” and “Bedford” mixed up.
Bridgestone-Firestone sued Austone, which is why you can no longer get the Austone 175R16 London taxi tire in the US. Notably, Bridgestone does not and as far as I can tell, has never made a 175R16.
To British people Bedford and Bradford are nearly 200 miles apart, and typified by the north – south divide. No possible confusion for us.
Don’t forget the Austin Hereford and the Morris Oxford….
My grandfathers family worked for the duke of Bedford nothing to do with vans and trucks just to be confusing.
Quite like the Jowett Bradford CD saloon prototype a pity it never went into production with 4-door saloon / estate variants being developed, it seems the existing Bradford Side-Valve Flat-Twin was to be updated into an IOE / F-Head unit for the Bradford CD rather then a Flat-Twin developed from the Javelin Flat-4 engine.
Is it known whether other UK companies were / would have been interested in Jowett during the early/mid-1950s? As even if Jowett had no supply problems, nor issues surrounding the Flat-4 and better styling in the case of the Jupiter / R4. There is still the issue of Ford UK buying out Briggs in 1953.
Which interestingly would have placed Jowett in a similar situation to Standard-Triumph when BMC acquired Fisher and Ludlow in 1953, until Leyland Motors bought Standard-Triumph in 1960.
I think Jowett were pretty isolated, way up there in Bradford. If they had been based in the Coventry/London/Oxford area like almost everybody else, maybe someone would have seen merit in buying them out. The UK, like Italy (Turin/Milan/Modena, the US and to a lesser extent France (Peugeot being the main exception), had a geographically centralized car industry.
The Briggs/Jowett situation also has a parallel in the US with Packard and Detroit Briggs, who were bought out by Chrysler in 1953, with fatal consequences to Packard’s production.
Given the period and their relatively low production numbers, if they had been in a position to continue it’s possible they may have gone down the fibreglass route like Reliant and others.
Thanks for telling this story that I’ve long wanted to tell here, but got lost on my infinite To Do list.
I’ve long had a soft spot for this advanced car, although they might have gone one step further and made it FWD. Of course that would only have exacerbated the transmission issue. Or forced them to design and build the transaxle up front.
It’s admirable to design a boxer four, because of its inherent balance, but hardly seems worth it in terms of the trade offs, like the rear-mounted radiator, for a conventional RWD car.
The radiator location was unfortunate – the Toyota GT86 puts the rad back in the usual position.
Before I researched this, I could have sworn that the Javelin was at least planned with FWD, because it made so much sense. But no, they never did go there. Palmer left it to Issigonis to take that step, I suppose.
You overlook the fact that car-building was a “cottage” industry prior to WW2 – even when Jaguar launched their own engine in the XK120 and Mk 7, they still couldn’t make their own gearbox. There was no FWD transaxle available for Jowett to buy, and the CV joint was still in the future.
Making a decent gearbox is no picnic, for sure. Not impossible though, FWD or RWD makes little difference. What does make a difference is having the tooling, skilled workforce and design/engineering dept. that can handle the job — Jowett didn’t have those. Jaguar kept using the Moss box chiefly because Lyons was a skinflint.
CV joints were already plentiful on the Continent. Rzeppa, Tracta, etc. were available and used in a number of cars.
Right next door to Bradford, in Huddersfield, was located England’s preeminent gear makers, David Brown (of Aston Martin ownership fame). Would have made more sense to source gears from them…
Even in the US, car companies outsourced transmissions even into the 90s. Some were made in-house, but many were third-party…Borg-Warner, New Process Gear, and Dana-Spicer come to mind.
The British FWD designer Alec Issigonis wanted an flat four for his Morris Minor cost dictated the prewar sidevalve four was used instead but the width of the Minors engine bay was there for his original proposal.
Hmm… WRX-powered Minor, anyone?
One or two folk have put Rover/Buick V8s in Morris Minors ….
There has been some morris minors fitted with both a Javelin engine and Subaru Leone engine in the past
There was also W.O Bentley designed Flat-4 that was tested in a Morris Minor and allegedly built by Villiers.
Though the Morris Minor would have been better off with the OHV Wolseley Eight engine from the outset, which was said to be a influenced by the Ford Sidevalve engine.
I recently read Gerald Palmer’s autobiography. He chose the flat 4 for packaging reasons (shorter engine = more passenger space), even though the car was RWD. Issigonis would have liked the Morris Minor to have a boxer engine, but it didn’t happen.
A minor shunt at parking speed was enough to kill a Javelin the crankshaft ended right behind the grille, I know of one that ended its life that way my Nana backed into it in her Morris Minor, the Morry was not damaged but the Javelin had a broken crank, insurance paid for it and that little Morris went on to have many low speed accidents mostly in reverse.
Great article – learned a lot. Knew a little about Jowett but this filled in quite a few details. Thanks.
Great write up. I saw a restore Jupiter a few years back at a car show. While they might have been a mechanically fragile it was a fantastic looking car. Very interesting mechanically and visually.
I recall a classmate’s parents drove one of these, but until now, I did not realize how old that car would have been even in 1971. I’m guessing that someone in the family was an enthusiast.
I’ve liked the Jupiter for a long time. Something between a bulldog and an owl. That video from “British Classic Cars” is great, too; I learned a lot about the Javelin the first time I watched it, and gained respect for the engineering. How much more British could a sports car look than the Jupiter?
Didn’t know that Gabo was a Jowett. Once again, a superb piece of research and writing. Tall grille Cisitalia for me please.
This is a good book on Jowett. For all I know, it may have been one of T87’s sources:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Jowett-Javelin-Jupiter-Complete-Story/dp/186126562X
I once got it from my public library on interlibrary loan. When the people at Jowett saw used Jowetts advertised for sale with Meadows gearboxes as a selling point, they knew they were in trouble!
Ca. 1980 I was walking around the Toluca Lake district of Los Angeles and saw a Jowett Jupiter, minus drivetrain, in someone’s garage, but it didn’t look as if the owner was around. I suppose that if you were determined to get one of these on the road, even at the cost of doing an engine swap, a Subaru engine would be the way to go.
Longing to see the A/S and Daimler parts of this trilogy. Before the SP250 “Dart” , Daimler had built a roadster that looked a little like the Jupiter.
During the ’40s and the ’50s there were a few Javelins in my neck-of-the-woods (Southern Brazil) and they were kept on the road for some ten years because a new imported car was strictly for millionaires. However, engines and gearboxes went bust so what to do? There were plenty of discarded V8-60 engines and transmissions that would fit right in. Rust, suspension issues finally put an end to these strange concotions. And by the mid ’60s the local industry was churning enough Beetles to cover the market.
“The coup de grâce (rhymes with “grass”, please, everyone) ”
do you really think we’re so dumb we needed to be told this?
I’ve heard it as “coup de graaah” so many times on both British and American TV. Pardon my French, but it’s a fucking disgraaah.
Even ‘highbrow’ old Steely Dan mispronounced it in their otherwise brilliant song “Show Biz Kids”.
Right, they said, “coopee dee grahss.” I think they were taking some tongue-in-cheek poetic license, not claiming to be pronouncing it correctly.
Gotta love the guy in the R4 appearing to grab a half pint for the road. The front engine/rear transmission layout was ahead of its time. It’s referred to in Raymond Chandler’s “The Long Goodbye.”
As described by Philip Marlowe: “He drove me in a rust-colored Jupiter-Jowett [sic] with a flimsy canvas rain top under which there was only just room for the two of us. It had pale leather upholstery and what looked like silver fittings. I’m not too fussy about cars, but the damn thing made my mouth water a little. He said it would do sixty-five in second. It had a squatty little gear shift that barely came up to his knee.”
Don’t agree with the Deadly Sin tag. The Javelin was a cleverly designed, well built car that deserved to succeed but was brought down by costs and competitors with deeper pockets.
“Deadly Sin” does not mean the car was crap.
To quote PN, who invented the concept:
“What exactly qualifies a car to be a DS? Any car that didn’t specifically counter [its maker]’s downward spiral. Here’s the key issue: having a car be called a DS does not mean that it was necessarily a truly bad car! It’s not reflection on any given car to be wholly lacking in qualities that were attractive to some or many.”
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/automotive-histories/on-the-purpose-and-nature-of-gms-deadly-sins/
“The engine’s most annoying early maladies included chronic overheating, due to the radiator’s location behind the engine, and brittle crankshafts. The overheating problem was never completely resolved: later engines usually fared better in this regard but would take a very long time to run at a high enough temperature in cold weather.”
It took me a while to realize where I’d heard this design drawback before, but then it dawned on me – it’s the EXACT same problem encountered on the Convair B-36 heavy bomber built in the USA and used by the US Air Force SAC throughout the 1950s. While the Pratt & Whitney radial engines were air-cooled, they did share one drawback – the engine wasn’t designed to be a pusher-prop radial, but merely a tractor design mounted backwards. Given that, the normal engine heat washing back over the fuel-induction system was gone at high altitude (ceiling on these birds was close to 50,000 ft.) and icing was common in the early versions…while, yet, at low altitudes the lack of cold airflow across the engine led to engine fires.
I sure appreciate my Corvairs’ engine being designed for its environment! It would run hot, but none of them ever caught fire.
Very interesting history of Jowett vehicles. My first car was a second-hand Bradford, bought for £15 in 1963! Original colour was a sort of beige but we decided to brighten it up (see photo). Unfortunately it died in 1965. I recently bought a diecast model from Ruby Toys – the only one I’ve ever found. My friend had a lovely red Jupiter with white-wall tyres. Happy days.
Back in the 1950s dad bought a Bradford van as transport for his market garden, we (Mum Dad, my sister and I travelled the country, from Southland, to North Auckland, and in the early 60s I learned to drive in it.
Bradford is a town in hilly Yorkshire, hence the original Jowett philosophy of plenty of low down torque at the expense of outright power.motors. Idle is a suburb of Bradford.
The Vauxhall plant was moved from the Vauxhall suburb of London to Luton, a town in the county of Bedforshire after the GM acquisition. The county town was Bedford, hence the choice of truck name. As already stated above, people from the UK would never confuse Bedford with Bradford, they are 200 odd miles apart. Both towns were originally started adjacent to shallows in a river:
shallow is the connection to Ford..
In around 1970 our local bread man made his deliveries in a 2hp Bradford van around Murray Bridge, South Australia. The van was chopped from the firewall & pulled by 2 horses.
As a curiuos 10yr old I’d be there to greet the baker, his horses Flash & Manny & to ask too many questions…