Daily Telegraph article on the Herald

[Pdv]

Hi,

Interesting article in the Telegraph today on the Herald. 

Bought a copy, had to hide it when I came out of the shop in case anyone I knew saw me.

The front page header showed a Signal Red Herald, basically saying how a not very good car had become a classic icon.

Inside was an accurate reflection on its downsides, doors flying open,lack of power the notorious back end tuck etc, it then explained why it was built on a chassis and ended on a positive note and stating that the amount of Heralds still around ( 2000 plus) compared to for example the Ford Anglia which were built in much greater numbers said a lot about its appeal.

The newspaper is in my workshop, if anybody wants to know the figures l will post later.

Steve

[Paul H]

online copy of the Herald article 
 

 

CLASSIC CARS

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The car that appeared doomed but became a cult classic

The Triumph Herald and its many quirks are still held in great affection by motorists. By James Foxall 

Doors flying open and wheels that leant alarmingly towards each other going round corners, a Meccano-like chassis with a love for rust and engines that would struggle to pull a pram.

Objectively, the Triumph Herald should have failed – yet quality, reliability and performance aren’t always markers of popular cars. And although its rivals were better on paper, the Herald defied irrefutable deficiencies to become an adored classic.

Jan Etherington’s article published in this paper last week – which fondly memorialised the thrills and skills of now old-school manual motors, as the electric car revs up for domination – kicked off a four-day barrage of letters from our readers.

“Its turning circle rivalled that of a London taxi, and its cornering characteristics at speed were interesting,” said Barrie Bain of Wadhurst, East Sussex. Robert T Brown of Crosby, Lancashire, wrote in agreement, “I owned a Triumph Herald many decades ago. She was my first love. On cold winter nights I would keep her warm with an old mackintosh thrown over her engine under the bonnet. Perhaps it was this that protected her from a thief one night. She was driven off our drive onto the road but steadfastly refused to go any further.”

Drive my car: John Lennon at the wheel of his Herald in 1965

“I had one of the early Triumph Herald Coupés,” recalled R Darell Seal of West Sussex. “It made me late for work because, having parked, I would be beset by pedestrians asking me to open the bonnet.” Ruth Bennett of Southampton lamented the bonnet: “A bump or pothole in the road could easily spring both locks, causing the whole front to lift. I often steered with my left hand while leaning out and holding the bonnet down with my right hand.”

While such flaws might have sunk lesser models, the Herald has always punched above its weight. Its popularity and longevity is thanks, perhaps, to its pretty looks and the character imparted by being born of a small company. It was a fighter from the off. Probably because, even before its 1959 launch, fortune was stacked against it.

First, its name. The Herald’s primary aim was to replace Standard-Triumph’s Standard 8 and Standard 10 – two anodyne models with dull names to match. The bosses, fighting for their company’s future, realised that calling their newcomer a Standard Herald was akin to calling it “the Ordinary”.

But they could call it a Triumph. From its birth in the roaring 20s, Triumph was a sporty brand with a premium aura, a bit like Audi today. Named after boss Alick Dick’s boat, “Triumph Herald” had panache – and it sounded sufficiently sporty to recapture that younger audience.

It also looked chic. In a clever swerve from its in-house designers, the company turned to Italy. The prolific sports car designer Giovanni Michelotti designed the body of the vehicle from his styling studio in Turin, and the result oozed insouciant flamboyance.

In the style of the 1960s to come, chrome cowls around the headlamps were joined by a chrome strip running the length of the car, linking with sharp fins over the rear lights. The one-piece bonnet, remembered so well by our readers, with its pin-sharp edges and two-tone paint jobs, evoked Detroit more than Coventry.

Featured frequently in film and television with women behind the wheel, roof down, silk head scarf flapping in the breeze, the Herald was one of the first sports cars that appealed to a female audience. It appeared in the 1967 version of Casino Royale, as well as The Persuaders, The Avengers, The Day of the Jackal, Heartbeat and Last of the Summer Wine. One even featured in the closing ceremony for the 2012 London Olympic Games.

All quite remarkable considering this car really is style over substance. Underneath that bonnet, the Herald used technology that even in 1959 was outmoded. But imaginative design and engineering turned around what could have been a massive drawback.

Originally the car was to have had a one-piece chassis and body – as modern cars do. But a falling-out with the supplier meant Standard-Triumph had to resort to Plan B: a chassis underneath with panels bolted on top. This meant it could produce several body shapes around the same base – from convertible to two-door coupé, estate to panel van – appealing to a broader audience.

And so, the Triumph’s more obvious failings were overlooked. Initially it had a puny 948cc engine. When Motor magazine tested it in 1959, it recorded a top speed of 70.9mph. The 0-60 acceleration was better measured with a calendar than a stopwatch. But Triumph persevered, updating and upgrading. That meant more powerful engines and the luxury of an improved steering column that collapsed in crashes, rather than impaling the driver.

The Herald’s flexible, old-fashioned build always made cornering a lively affair, even with the uprated suspension, even in 1962, when the sportiest Vitesse model was introduced. And if the chassis flexed and the latches weren’t having their best day, there was every chance the doors could fly open.

In fairness, it was no more unreliable than many 1960s cars. Back then, engines used mechanical carburettors to deliver fuel, rather than the electronic injection that speeds along modern cars. Components such as suspension and brakes weren’t tested nearly as comprehensively as they are now. And water had plenty of opportunity to leak in and cause rot.

The Herald wasn’t even particularly cheap. It went on sale for £700 in 1959, which was £100 more expensive than the rival Ford Anglia and £200 costlier than a Mini.

Even though automotive manufacturer British Leyland took over Standard-Triumph in 1960 and ramped up production of its models over the next decade, the Herald was never what you’d call a big seller. Between 1959 and 1971, the company built 561,286 Herald and Vitesse models. Ford, on the other hand, built a million Cortinas in just four years in the 1960s. It also built 1,004,737 Anglias between 1959 and 1967.

But gauge the Herald’s success by how many are still around. According to website Howmanyleft.co.uk, there are 2,812 still registered in the UK compared with just 2,580 Anglias.

Its tale is indeed what you might call a Triumph. Doomed to fail, it became nothing short of an enduring success – evidenced this week by our readers’ heartfelt letters, deterred not even by the engine going kaput.

 

 

[Colin Lindsay]

That's actually quite positive! Good to see that sort of view.

[Wagger]

I was sent the original lauch video done at 'The Royal Albert Hall' on Whatsapp a while back. It shows a Herald driving up the steps, and being assembled. One was put together at the Farnborough Air Show too.

Many of you must have seen it.

Compared to Minis, Anglias and many others, they are such a 'Doddle' to work on. Making maintenance easy combats unreliability. Try gapping the points on a Morris Minor or A35 without a mirror. Gearbox changes too can be done in the road outside your dwelling inside the cabin.