Car builders recycling names, or continuing naming policies, can confuse; about where a product fits in with existing or preceding models (Renault 14 to Renault 9, for exmple), why it’s still called a name that doesn’t make any logical sense (Mercedes-Benz E200, Fiat 500 for example), that does not do it justice as a new product (1980 European Ford Escort?) or risks thereby being overlooked as a new product (there are many but how about the 1966 Hillman Minx?). Austin A40 is perhaps one of those – between 1947 and 1968 there were four distinct designs to use that name, which between them cover a significant episode in the history of BMC. Here we’ll look at the first up and the last.
The first of these was the 1947-52 A40 Devon – Austin came out of the war with a policy of naming cars after English counties and, later, cities. Our feature example is a 1951 car, seen in use in southern England.
Immediately after the war, Austin, like most others, concentrated on building pre-wear designs but were also quicker than most, notably their competitors including Nuffield and Rootes, out of the blocks with new products. The A40 Devon (and its 2 door equivalent the Dorset) came in late 1947.
Some reports were underwhelmed by the conservatism of the designs, as it featured a bodyshell mounted on a frame, rather than the floor being welded to the frame as on the pre-war Austin 10. But it was on the market a year before new products from Nuffield, Rootes and Vauxhall.
The Dorset lasted only until 1951, the Devon until 1952 by which time over 270,000 saloons had been sold. Austin could count that as a major success.
One place where this was intended to be a major success was North America, and for a period it was the best selling import. But for reasons Austin and later BMC would, seemingly deliberately, not understand or learn from, as Editor Paul Niedermeyer summarises here, the ranking did not last and indeed some cars were in fact shipped back to Birmingham for rework and local sale.
Still, that exercise gave us one of the seminal photographs of the contextual history of the British motor industry, and which has been featured in many a book and history. A transporter load of A40 Devons leaving a camouflage painted Longbridge works, with the transporter clearly flagging the reason for the exports ahead of the domestic sales.
The feature car is a 1951 model, with the later column shift and (you can just make them out) the semaphore indicators. These have been supplemented by aftermarket flashing units front and rear.
Power came from a 1200cc in line four – not the actual famous and (too) long enduring B series but an antecedent related to the pre-war Austin 10 and 12. There was independent front suspension with soft lever arm dampers, which only got softer with time. The rear was semi-elliptic leaf springs and a beam axle. Still, you’d eventually get to 70mph. There were van and pickup variants too, as well as Countryman estates – in total close to 450,000 copies over five years to 1952.
This car was replaced in 1952 by the A40 Somerset, an example of which is currently in the care of fellow Curbivore David Saunders and subject to a fairly significant project of work. This model, closely based on the A 40 Devon, served for another 170,000 copies and two years, before retiring in favour of the next A40, the first Austin Cambridge.
The A40 Cambridge 1200, and the otherwise similar A50 Cambridge 1500, were the first to be designed and launched by BMC, rather than Austin, to use the B series engine and to be built around a monocoque construction. The 2 door and 4 door versions were both called Cambridge, although the 2 door was very quickly dropped. It was replaced by the similar but significantly revised A55 range in 1957, although the van version soldiered on to 1973. This car came from BMC – the mechanically similar visually separate Morris equivalent was the Oxford.
The next A40 was, however, more ground breaking. The story goes that the Duke of Edinburgh, never a man to just politely pat chaps on the back but who was unafraid to ask a challenging question, visited Longbridge and told Leonard Lord, Chairman of BMC, that his cars were not up the standards of foreign (that is, European) competition. Lord consequently, the story goes, had Battista and Sergio Pininfarina into Birmingham the next day, and did a deal to design the next generation of BMC cars, starting with a new A40.
The resulting A40 Farina was launched in 1958, with Battista and Sergio present with Leonard Lord (far left) and his no 2 George Harriman (second from the right, next to the car) at the Longbridge showroom. At the top of the steps, hand on knee, is Alec Issigonis, although he was not directly involved.
The styling looks familiar now, but this was an early sighting of the Pininfarina style that became familiar not just across a wide range of BMC products, but also the Peugeot 404, Lancia Flaminia, and some Fiat (and its associates’) saloons as well.
This example is a 1959 Mk1, which has evidently been re-imported into the UK in 2016 and registered here. Mechanically, this car was not exciting or innovative – it was closely related to the 1951 era Austin A30 and later A35 saloons (below), Austin’s competitor to the Morris Minor, though smaller and narrower than the Minor.
Compared with the A35, there was a longer wheelbase (by four inches) and wider track (by two inches), but the engine and gearbox were carried over, along with many visible interior pieces. Body wise, it was all new and all Pininfarina, with a two box profile that is usually considered innovative. The boot lid dropped downward to form a platform, and the rear seat folded, making it a sort of hatchback albeit with only half the aperture actually opening.
Power was, initially at least, from a 948cc A series engine offering 34 bhp, the same engine as the contemporary Morris Minor. In 1959, the Countryman variant appeared, with an opening hinged rear window meeting the drop down bootlid, Range Rover style. Perhaps this was the first hatchback?
The car went to a Mark 2 in 1961; the changes were significant. The wheelbase was increased by 3.5 inches, at the rear, giving more interior space, and the engine taken to 37 bhp. In 1962, the car was granted the 1098cc 48bhp engine from new (ADO16) Morris 1100 and also shared with the similarly updated Minor. A new interior came in 1964 and the car endured, alongside the Morris Minor and the burgeoning ADO16 range until 1967, selling over 360,000 copies in total. That was in addition to close to 575,000 A30 and A35s, so the total from the basic design is not to be overlooked.
The A40 was built essentially in the UK, and there was CKD assembly in Australia, Belgium, Holland, Ireland, Mexico, New Zealand, and South Africa, and there was an attempt to export it to North America, as the ‘The Gayest Economy Sedan Ever’ and a variant was also built by Innocenti in Italy.
At the time, car exports to Italy were not easy, due to tariff boundaries and a very strong and protected local competitor. BMC worked with Innocenti on local CKD assembly and gradually moved to locally pressed panels. This was Innocenti’s first car building project and they didn’t assume that BMC’s answer was the best or only one.
Italian built cars, sold only in Italy, had variations to the UK cars. Aside form locally defined trims and finishes, Innocenti also devised the Combinata derivative, with a full length rather than two piece rear hatch. Perhaps, the modern hatchback had arrived, albeit in stages and with a convoluted ancestry.
The Combinata version of the A40S, as the Mk 2 was known in Italy, outsold the regular saloon to the extent that the latter was withdrawn. A40S sales continued until 1967, when it was retired at the same time as the UK production, with over 67,000 built in Milan.
“After 4 years, there can be few snags left in the A40 to worry even the hardest driver”. Well, that’s one way to sum up, after a fairly substantial set of revisions on a reskin of a 10 year old design, but then The Autocar knew where it’s bread was buttered.
One area where the A40 Farina had some surprising success was in circuit racing. From the end of the 1950s, as rules and handicaps evolved, the British Saloon Car Championship (now known as the British touring Car Championship or BTCC) was established with a range of classes all competing together, leading to the spectacle of Jaguar saloons being out paced round corners by Minis and them gobbling them up on the straights.
Both were competing for the race win but for different class wins of the championship. Add tot his the calibre of some of the competitors, and a fine day’s entertainment could easily be had. In the early 1960s, for example, competitors included Graham Hill, Roy Salvadori, Mike Parkes (later a Ferrari team driver and test engineer for the Hillman Imp), Colin Chapman, Jack Sears, Dan Gurney (in a Ford Galaxie) and the 1960 champion Gordon “Doc” Sheppard, driving an Austin A40 mk 2.
The car has recently been restored, and is now active in the historic racing community, though not in this clip.
All in, a car with a convoluted heritage, a definite style, and some style, and a stronger heritage than may always be appreciated, and as the last pure Austin in that part of the market, a greater significance than it is frequently given. May be Prince Philip was onto something?
I always thought the A40 Devon was a horrible-looking car, but the styling did work quite well in roadster/pedal-car form as the J40.
The Farina A40, on the other hand, was pretty ground-breaking in 1959. I have a certain affection for them because I had my (six?) driving lessons and test in a Mk1 model in 1965.
It was a perfect car for reversing around a corner – part of the test – because the back window was the back of the car.
I had my formal driving lessons in Mk1 Fiesta and for reversing around the corner, the instructor had a very simple guide.
“See that black painted needle stuck vertically into the side window seal, halfway along the window? When that’s aligned with the kerb of the road you’re reversing into, start steering left into the side road until the end of the sticker in the rear window is aligned with the kerb”. Apparently, none of his students ever failed on that part of the test.
I’m glad you included a Goodwood link; I always get a kick out of seeing those A40s mixing it up with bigger American cars and Jaguars.
Yes just behind the Jaguars was something else I once owned a Austin A90 six Westmonster great old car look just like their gutless A55 cousin but had the 2.6 C series engine I fitted twin SUs and a big bore exhaust it went well untill the overdrive seized.
Mum had a 63 A40, cream with a green roof and it died in 77 due to the engine fulling out.Rusted through front mounts. Lead a long life fsor a norn rust proofed car from the early sixties.
Love the Goodwood stuff, all on skinny wheels. We have historic racing here, but they’re modified too far, with fat tyres and super-hot engines and brakes. More like silhouette than historic by that stage.
A40 Farina front suspension, engine, gearbox and back axle brilliantly-located by quarter elleptic springs and trailing arms gave us the wonderful frog-eyed Austin Healey Sprite. No poncey door locks or woossy wind-up windows, this was a true Sports Car in Embryo, with a potent panoply of after-market goodies including Ekins Bolt-on Beltdrive Blower. These goodies went well with the A40 Farina and Saint Alec Issigonis’ (God bless ‘im, brethren!) Mighty Morris 1000. The A40 Farina’s form was echoed in the perfect lines of what sold in Oz as the Morris 1100.
I owned a couple of those A40 Farinas a 59 with only the drop down tailgate it had however a later hotted up engine fitted and got along really well far better than the brakes could cope with 90mph on level going but it died of suspension failure when the R/F lower control arm tore from the chassis I made new mounts but it was never the same a buyer broke it up for parts,
I later bought a 64 Countryman with proper wagon style opening tailgates but with a tired 1100 engine it got slower and slower and eventually got swapped for a Humber 80 wagon.
Surviving A40 Farinas are few and far between now they were just cheap bombs when I had mine so were just driven into the ground, many met their fate on racetracks and rust took most of the rest out.
Are there any actually existing examples or even period *photographs* of a 2-door A40 Cambridge? The only evidence I’ve ever seen of one is the (pre-launch?) illustration seen here.
I’ve only ever seen that same illustration.
No doubt there’s someone in a club who’d know how many were built/if any survive.
It seems odd they brought back a two-door; the Dorset didn’t last the full production life of the Devon, and the Somerset never had a two-door until David Saunders came along. 🙂
This and the similar format Hillman Husky were genuine pioneers in the compact two-box format with a rear hatch/door of one kind or another. I didn’t know that the Innocenti version had a full hatch, which makes it even more of pioneer.
There was one of these A40 Farinas in our neighborhood in Iowa City, and I was rather drawn to it, as it seemed out of the ordinary in its format/packaging. It spoke to me, as boxy, practical cars always have. And still do.
The transporter is as stubby as the A40s it is transporting. Nice!
This was an interesting read – is Farina an English locale like the earlier cars’ names? Surely it was not named after the mushy, hot wheat cereal. 🙂
That Farina, by the way, is a car I have never paid much attention to, but now find fascinating with its early hatchback sort of configuration.
Pininfarina is the company name derived from the name of the designer Pinin Farina – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pininfarina#Change_of_corporate_name_to_Pininfarina
And not the cereal exactly, but not far off – “farina” is the Italian for “flour” 🙂
I think the early 1950’s Austins helped kill the appeal of British sedans, aside from perhaps Jaguar, in the US. The various Vauxhalls, Minx, Marina, Cricket etc didn’t help. But the equivalent sports cars did just fine until the Z and RX7 came along. However, seen from the British perspective as presented her by Roger, this proto-hatchback A40 was innovative, attractive – and successful. And from someone my age who witnessed the failure of those British cars here in the US, the success of Mini and Range/Land Rover continues to surprise me.
Blimey! My Dad had an A40 Farina when I was growing up, ours never moved as fast as the one in the clip, didn’t know they could. It never left much of an impression on me, though I can remember the front windows used to rattle terribly in their frames.
The Farina cars were one of the first things to come out of ‘old fashioned’ post-war Britain that seemed modern and cool, to us northern North Americans anyway. Then came the Mini and The Beatles. A revolution in five years. 🙂
Imaging if Austin had kept on with the county names: Austin Sussex? Austin Cheshire? Austin Yorkshire? Austin Shropshire?
Interesting that the little A30 didn’t come with a county name attached.
The Cambridge model name could have come from Cambridgeshire, but I think it was more of a slap at the Morris Oxford, Oxford and Cambridge being rival universities.
The Mini was going to be called the Austin Newmarket at one stage……
Rumours that the Belgian exports were to badged Austin Ostends. Luckily, they never considered sending any to the Texan capital.
The Farina is called Futura in Denmark and Sweden, because “farina” means “sugar”.
I used to wonder why some Farinas looked like a hansom cab with a very long bonnet, and some looked much better proportioned, but I am now Carr-enlightened: the Mk2 wheelbase stretch. I always assumed it was a result of different paint schemes.
With lever arms out front, pretty ordinary worm and peg steering, and greater weight than a 4-door Morrie Minor (let alone the four-place Mini), they were a bit of anachronism even compared to BMC’s other stuff. And the Morrie 1100 made it look like about as advanced a covered wagon just three years after its release. Do I presume correctly that Austin were always more conservative in their engineering?
One other quick question, is that famous story of ‘is ‘ighness the Prince making those observations actually verified anywhere? It sounds apocryphal, and if it isn’t, it doesn’t say much for the craven nature of British management that a royal word and it was panic stations on major production decisions. I rather suspect he said something casual like “are you chaps sure you’re up to these new foreign jobs?” in conversational jest: it’s also more consistent with all reports of his rather ham-handed style of humour.
I think it has been abbreviated for convenience and impact by many.
Austinmemories.com (normally pretty reliable if Austin staff oriented) says, quoting Leonard Lord’s biographer that
“HRH does acknowledge that he suggested the cars might benefit from an outside designer and mentioned Farina as the first name that came into his head”
The “Farina on a plane the next day bit” is almost certainly apocryphal
That all sounds far more likely. He was, by necessity, a man of the world at a time when the world was far more insular, he was a a bit of a car nut, and would have seen Euro cars (from, ahem, other price brackets!) that made the line-up he was inspecting look pretty dour. It is, of course, literally impossible for me to imagine how the Farina look – which itself came to be very dated by the late ’60’s – seemed so crisp and advanced at the time.
Another thought is that ’50’s UK sedans, from all-comers, were universally pretty stodgy. I can just now think of only perhaps the MG Magnette as being a bit of a looker, so ‘is ‘onnor was probably well-conscious of that then too. Maybe.
Roger, just one comment: I think Gurney only ever raced an Impala in the British Saloon Car Championship, see below.
I have a 1950 A40 for sale..