1950s British Cars Archives - CARS // MOTORBIKES

Vauxhall Cresta PA

The Vauxhall Cresta PA appeared in ’57. At the time, Vauxhall – a mainstay of British car manufacturing – was under the aegis of GM, in Detroit. Unsurprisingly, then, the new Cresta PA picked up several US styling motifs. The rear fins, for example, were pure Americana … though suitably reined in for British tastes! Likewise, the PA’s wraparound windscreen clearly originated on the other side of the ‘pond’. Stateside-style two-tone paint – and whitewall tyres – were optional extras. The Cresta was Vauxhall’s answer to the Ford Zodiac. It was there in every larger-than-life line of the British-made car. The PA’s cabin continued the ‘Britmobile’ theme. Bench seats, white steering wheel and column shift all came courtesy of the American Dream.

Mechanically, the Cresta harked back to the E Series. Its pushrod straight-six engine produced 78bhp. That gave it a top speed of 90mph. Capacity was 2,262cc. Power was delivered in relaxed fashion. The gearbox was a 3-speed synchromesh set-up. Soft suspension was via a leaf-spring rear axle, wishbones and coil springs. Many of these components derived from the Vauxhall Velox – the Cresta’s slightly less sophisticated predecessor.

In ’59, the Cresta got a face-lift. Its three-piece rear screen became one-piece. Up front, the ‘egg-crate’ grille was revised. Coachbuilders Friary built an estate car version. The Queen gave it her personal seal of approval … she drove one for years. 1960 brought further Cresta updates. Its motor was taken out to 2.6 litres. That upped output to 96bhp. The PA was given larger wheels and fins. The gearbox was now a two-pedal Hydramatic auto. Or, alternatively, a dual overdrive manual. Front disc brakes were servo-assisted. British motorists gave the improvements a thumbs up. The PA sold soundly, right up to ’62. By then, though, its fins – whilst the ‘in thing’ in the Fifties – were starting to show their age. Its production run now over, the Vauxhall Cresta PA was put out to well-earned pasture. British cars would seldom seem so American again!

Riley RM

By the time the RM series was launched – in ’45 – Riley’s glory days seemed gone. Dating back to 1898, the firm had produced a steady stream of successful saloon and sports cars, throughout the ’20s and most of the ’30s. At race circuits, too, Rileys met with much success. Sales had been consistently impressive. By the late Thirties, though, financial fissures were forming. As a result, ’38 saw Nuffield take over the Riley reins. It worked. Before long, there was a resurgence of interest from investors. And, the post-war launch of the RM series saw Riley right back on track.

The RMA and RMB models were stylish saloons. Timber frames were wrapped in swooping steel bodywork. Topping it all off was a woven removable roof. Both A and B were fitted with Riley’s high-cam inline-four engine. The A was good for 75mph. The B took that out to 95mph. Riley’s motor had the longest stroke of any post-war British production car. As you would expect, then, torque came by the barrelful. Again, both A and B featured torsion-bar independent front suspension. So, good handling was also a given.

The most glamorous member of the RM club was the C. Since it was a tilt at the American market, it came with column gear-change. Well, it was only polite! Other notable updates were a fold-flat screen and lower bonnet-line. The RMC was pure roadster – to wit, an open 3-seater, with cutaway doors. In due course, the RMD appeared – as a 4-seater drop-head. It reverted to a more traditional body than the C. Completing the series were the RME and RMF. Improvements included hydraulic brakes, a hypoid back-axle and larger rear windows. In ’54, Riley revisited the E version. It received the honour of the final RM makeover. Its running boards were removed – and headlight pods streamlined. A set of rear wheel spats was grafted on. By this point, though, Riley were clutching at straws, commercially. Revered as it had been, the brand-name was now in decline. There would be one final throw of the Riley dice – in the form of the Pathfinder. But – according to critics – its four-cylinder motor was about all it had going for it. Back in the day, however, Riley combined British panache with sporting prowess. The RM series had made that abundantly clear!

Lotus Elite

The Lotus Elite is widely regarded as one of the most stylish cars the firm made. Primarily, that was down to Peter Kirwan Taylor. Though not a leading light in the automotive design field at the time, Lotus put their faith in him – and it was rewarded. Launched in ’59 – along with the Mini and Jaguar MKII – the Elite was produced for four years. In the course of that time, it became one of the iconic British sports cars. As always – with Colin Chapman at the helm – light weight was key. With that in mind, the Elite was the first car to be built on a glass-fibre monocoque chassis. That helped it reach a top speed of 130mph. Aerodynamic lines assisted. The Elite was agile, too. Few sports cars could hold a candle to it through corners!

Power was provided by an overhead-cam Coventry Climax motor. When kitted out with a single carburettor, it delivered 71bhp. A twin-carb set-up increased that to 83bhp. A 4-speed gearbox came courtesy of BMC. The SE version would be fitted with a close-ratio, 5-speed ZF gearbox. Power increased to 105bhp. The Elite was economical, though – as a result of its light weight. As impressive as the Elite’s straight-line speed, was its handling. The car was suspended by coil-spring dampers at the front – and Chapman struts (modified MacPherson struts) at the rear. Steering was by rack-and-pinion. The full complement of high-grade disc brakes came as standard. Of more questionable quality were the windows. While pleasing on the eye, their unique profile meant they were difficult to wind down fully. Not what you wanted, on a hot summer’s day!

Generally speaking, though, the Elite did its name justice. In styling terms, it was from the top drawer. The Elite’s dashboard, for example, echoed its chic low profile. Nevertheless, there were faults – other than the wind-down windows issue. The car’s monocoque – cutting edge, though it was – was prone to noisy vibration. Also, interior décor was somewhat sparse. All things considered, however, the Lotus Elite was a fine example of a top-flight British sports car!

Jaguar MKII

The Jaguar MKII was one of the great all-rounders. Pretty much anything you wanted from a car, it could do. So versatile was the ‘MKII Jag’ that both cops and robbers fell in love with it! That was understandable. The top-spec 3.8 version – with manual overdrive – was good for 125mph. And, with no speed limit on British roads at the time, you could make the most of that number – whichever side of the law you were on. Not that observing speed limits would have been top of the robbers’ list of priorities, of course! For all that, the MKII Jag was also the ideal commuter car – for the business class. As refined as you like when it wanted to be, the MKII would transport its well-heeled occupants with ease. The MKII Jaguar, then, was all things to all men. It was also affordably-priced.

It was not long before the movie studios came calling. The MKII played a cameo rôle in Performance – alongside James Fox and Mick Jagger. And starred in Get Carter – in which it was hard on the tail of Michael Caine. On TV, Inspector Morse would not be seen in anything else. Of course, such screen sashays did sales figures no harm at all. 83,980 MKIIs were built. At racetracks, too, the Jag played a leading part. In saloon car showdowns, it was highly competitive. Indeed, racing driver Graham Hill – as well as Lotus boss Colin Chapman – both owned MKIIs.

Certainly, the car was beautiful to behold. Designer William Lyons – or, Mr. Jaguar, as he was affectionately known – had seen to that. And that, really, was the reason for its popularity. Stock-broker or law-breaker – in a MKII, you looked like $1,000,000, either way! The car had Sir William’s styling stamped all over it. Inside, the leather seats, wooden dash and door cappings all displayed Lyons’ keen eye for design detail. As did the dial- and switch-encrusted facia. On the engineering front, the MKII used tried and tested Jaguar technology. Its straight-six 3.8-litre XK engine delivered 220bhp. For a while, that made the MKII the quickest saloon car around. Technically, it was released in ’59 – though it will always be synonymous with the ’60s. As was the Mini – that other Sixties automotive icon. Instantly recognisable, the MKII helped define its times. In other words, the Jaguar MKII was as cast-iron a classic as cars come!

Bentley Continental R

The Bentley Continental R was always going to be beautiful. It was, after all, coachbuilt by HJ Mulliner – out of their London HQ. But, there was more! It also had a top speed of 124mph – which made it the fastest 4-seater in the world, at the time. Mind you, that was a combination few could afford – in what was still, technically, post-war Britain. The Continental R was strictly for business magnates and movie stars – oh, and possibly, royalty! High levels of comfort came as standard. In a nutshell – in the early Fifties – the Continental R was the best car money could buy.

The Continental R’s stately lines were refined in the Rolls-Royce wind tunnel – at Hucknall, England. John Blatchley – stylist extraordinaire – oversaw the operation. Combined with Mulliner’s alloy body – and a one-off Supersports chassis – the result was a cutting edge British coupé. Gearing was raised from that of the Bentley R – the Continental’s less sophisticated predecessor. That meant long-legged power throughout the rev range. The straight six motor’s compression ratio was upped. A big-bore exhaust system was installed. As a result, the Continental’s deep-breathing 4,566cc engine made light work of country roads. Notwithstanding the car’s gargantuan size, aluminium bumpers – and alloy-framed bucket seats – helped keep the weight down.

In austerity-ravaged ’50s Britain, then, ‘Continental’ must have conjured up an exotic vision. Filled with cars like the R, sweeping through idyllic villages and rolling landscapes. Certainly, the interior came fully-furnished for far-flung travels. The wide wooden dashboard housed a rev counter and oil temperature gauge. Such items had been deemed surplus to requirements for the saloon version. Only 208 Continentals were built. So, the Bentley Continental R was exclusive, to say the least. It was, however, at the top of its game in virtually every department!

Austin-Healey Sprite

The Austin-Healey Sprite is, arguably, the cutest car ever! Its most adorable feature? Some may go weak at the knees for its seductive smile. That came in the form of an emoji-style grille. Most, though, would faint at those foxy frog eyes – hence the car’s Frogeye Sprite moniker. In fact, those heart-melting windows of the automotive soul might never have opened at all – at least, not in daylight. Donald Healey – designer of the Sprite – drafted it with retractable headlights. Mercifully – for classic car buffs – the cost of fitting them proved prohibitive. So, pop-up became pop-eyed … and an automotive legend was born!

The Sprite, though, was not just about styling. In the Fifties, its top speed of 84mph impressed. Particularly, since the Sprite’s inline-four engine made just 43bhp. Capacity was 948cc. We are talking efficient British engineering. Then again, there was not a lot to lug about. The Sprite, after all, measured only 3.5m in length. Certainly, the Frog-Eye was economical. 45mpg was the low-cost reward for a relaxed driving style. Saying that, tweaking the A Series engine was a breeze. The whole of the Sprite’s one-piece nose section lifted up – allowing for the easiest of access. The Frogeye’s 4-speed gearbox served up the power in bite-size chunks.

The Sprite was the younger sibling of the 3000 model – or ‘big Healey’, as it was commonly dubbed. BMC’s shelves, then, were heaving with parts which bolted straight onto the Sprite. Most of the components also saw service on Morris Minors and Austin A35s. 38,999 Frogeyes were built. Sadly, Austin-Healey broke the mould after making the Sprite. Cars would never again be quite so cuddly!