From the archive: On this day in 1956

Our recent scoop of the next Jaguar saloon was met with an unprecedented amount of negative letters from readers, due to a perceived abandonment of brand history and understated elegance. Let us, then, revisit a time when a new Jag was “modern, dignified and efficient” in its bodystyling: the 2.4 Litre, new junior to the Mk VII, of 1956.

A shortened and thus revvier version of the XK140 sports car’s 3.4-litre straight six offered “very high performance” (0-60mph in 15.8sec) and “quite remarkable” flexibility on top. It was smooth and quiet too, and the note we did hear was “sweet and subdued”.

We weren’t quite as bowled over by the ’box but it was still great.

The steering was “a little heavy” but had perfect self-centring and was free of vibration; bendy bits could be “negotiated with ease”.

At first the suspension felt a bit soft, but then we found that while cosseting for our passengers, it also allowed minimal body roll. The damping was tremendous as well, and the overall result was “an excellent [neutral] balance”.

Plus, a driver of “virtually any size could be completely [comfy] and remain fresh and in proper control on long journeys” in an “atmosphere of complete luxury”.

We concluded this was a very fine car indeed. A 3.4-litre version arrived in 1957, and then in 1959 “the greatest improvement so far achieved” on any Jaguar model heralded the now-legendary Mk2.

US government acts despite indifference towards safety

In 1956, Ford had the bright idea of using safety as the promotional focus of its latest model. It sold poorly – until Ford changed tack with its advertising.

“It is difficult for [foreigners] to picture the true situation,” sympathised our Detroit columnist. “Practical, bread-and-butter features like crash safety, fuel economy, seating comfort, durability may sell cars there, but not here. We buy performance, push-button gimmicks, loud colours, Buck Rogers body lines.”

Thankfully, seeing the rising casualty rate, Dwight Eisenhower’s government wasn’t similarly inclined. Its 1956 Federal Aid Highway Act had called for a report on what it could do “to promote public welfare by increasing highway safety”.

One idea was a throttle governor, but congressmen soon scrubbed that when GM sat two of them in a limited car and sent it into the path of a red-light runner!

GM also tried to show that there was no way to avert disaster in certain situations – save for “repealing the natural physical laws which pertain to motion and energy” – by sending a car down a 60% slope into a 12-ton concrete abutment.

One test that officials weren’t shown but surely should have been was of panic braking from top speed – four lanes spun across, three blown tyres, 1000ft to stop.

Efforts by Washington and car industry critics would continue and grow louder in subsequent years, culminating in the first federal road safety act passing in 1966.

A Zündapp from the west…

Microcars became very popular in war-torn western Europe. Among the many bizarre ones was West Germany’s Janus, revealed in 1956 by famed motorbike maker Zündapp. Developed from the Dornier Delta prototype (yes, the same Dornier that had churned out Nazi bombers), it featured two bench seats back to back – with a 248cc single-cylinder two-stroke engine in between them! “Despite its small [14bhp] engine, the Janus is quite lively, and both roadholding and springing are quite good,” we noted. No comment about noise or vibration, though, strangely…

…and a Horch from the east

Eastern Europe had suffered likewise, but it was harder for us to keep track of its recovery following the creation of the Iron Curtain. Indeed, we saw the DDR’s latest car, the Horch P240 Sachsenring, only when officials used one at a trade fair in Sweden. Made at the old home of Auto Union in Zwickau, it was a luxury limo with an 80bhp straight six. It would later transpire that its development had been very troubled and it had proven unreliable in use, coming in for heavy criticism from users (mostly agents of the communist government).