archive: – All about car

Any in-car audio entertainment aside from conversation didn’t really exist until the 1930s, when radio (or wireless, as we should really call it, old chap) technology had progressed enough that receiver sets could be offered, albeit at great expense. It’s no surprise, then, that wireless expert BH Davies wrote in a popularly received Autocar article in March 1925 that “at first sight, the only natural link between motoring and wireless is that both are semi-technical hobbies, the pursuit of which does not necessarily demand a long apprenticeship to engineering, or, indeed, anything beyond a rule-of-thumb knack of handling controls, the purpose of which is vaguely comprehended”. “The two hobbies in England have generally been pursued quite separately,” Davies said, “but in America they are very largely operated in combination, portable wireless sets figuring in the equipment of a great many cars.” The reason that the typical English motorist did not “trouble to pack a costly and fragile apparatus on his car for use at picnics, or whilst staying with friends, or for diversion during a quiet evening at some distant hotel” was primarily because the sets obtainable in this country were not yet adequate for such activity. “The typical British receiver of past seasons demands a full-size outdoor aerial and a decent earth,” Davies continued. “Even at that, it has generally suffered from two egregious faults. Its worst has been a lack of selectivity, which imposed a jangle of Morse signals and ‘mush’ on the broadcast telephony. “Nevertheless, for a considerable time, it has been possible to buy a special type of receiver which practically fulfils the ideal specifiaction for a portable receiver. It eliminates all interference, save atmospheric discharges which are still uncurable, but, fortunately, innocuous on most winter and some summer evenings. “It will operate a powerful loudspeaker at full strength without an outside aerial or real earth, requiring no pick-up inductance beyond a small frame aerial, which may be of the folding type or can be wound inside the lid of a cabinet. Its current consumption is so small that a tiny four-volt accumulator (that’s a battery to you and me) of 20Ah capacity will operate it for 50 or 60 hours on one charge. It has controls so few and so simple that a wholly untechnical woman (or man, come on BH…) in Great Britain can pick up American broadcast programmes with it.” The reason we had to put up with inferior wireless until this time was, apparently, due to the lack of dull emitter valves. Probably won’t find any of those in your DAB radio. The one and only drawback of the ‘supersonic heterodyne’ (brilliant name) receiver was – as has always been and always will be the case with new technologies – price. A ready-made receiver would’ve cost you £75 (the equivalent of about £4480 today). However, most people back then would have constructed their own sets, thanks to instructions provided by specialist magazines, and the principle of a ‘superhet’ was “childishly simple”. “If two stations are broadcating telephony on neighbouring wavelengths,” Davies laid out, “ordinary methods of reproduction will fail to separate the two stations, especially if they are of equal power and equidistant from the listener. But if these two wavelengths are multiplied by some high figure, the margin between them will no longer be narrow, but they can be sundered so completely that the desired signals can be thoroughly isolated with extreme purity. “This is readily achieved by the superhet. A rough and inaccurate description would say that the signals are rectified, transferred to a tremendously higher wavelength, amplified on that new wavelength and finally listened to with the aid of a loudspeaker.” This technique usually required as many as 10 valves, but the superhet could use just five, making several work double jobs. Indeed, wireless technology was progressing at an incredible rate. “This year, the upkeep of a superhet will be less than the yearly bill of a humble headphone two-valver of the 1924 pattern,” predicted Davies. “The newer version rescues the garden from towering masts; and in winter it has the second merit of permitting the owner to enjoy his news or his symphonies in whichever room is most convenient. “Having purchased or built a superhet, the motorist will consider whether the cabinet should be put aboard the car. One imagines the answer in this country will normally be negative. The receiver will measure perhaps 30x10x10in. This is too bulky an article to be welcomed into the stern sheets of the typical 10hp four-seater.” Occasional transportation of this long, narrow box on the rear seats, however, was probable. Examples inluded “the man who is going down to a remote bit of river with his rods, or to some lonely covert with his guns; the hostess who is discharging social obligations by a picnic; the tourist who is exploring the wilds of the Lake
Origin: From the archive: Wireless and the car

Two-and-a-half years after their wedding, Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh, took delivery of the very first Rolls-Royce Phantom IV. Autocar reported details of the car on 7 July 1950, saying that while Rolls-Royce had longstanding relationships with high society, this was “the first time that a completely new model has been evolved specially for members of the British Royal House”. The all-new chassis, codenamed 4AF2, had been delivered to the chosen coachbuilder, HJ Mulliner, the previous July. Rolls-Royce had apparently planned this to be a one-off, it having been ordered at the personal request of the Duke, but a total of eighteen would go on to be built through to 1958, all going to heads of state, including Generalissimo Francisco Franco of Spain and King Faisal II of Iraq, apart from one that underpinned a truck used at the Crewe factory. “The lines and proportions of the car are so well balanced,” we said, “that its great size is not immediately apparent, but with a wheelbase of 12ft 1in, an overall length of almost 19ft and a height of over 6ft, it dwarfs most other cars on the road”. That is indeed huge even by modern standards – even today’s extended-wheelbase Phantom VIII is only around 8in longer, and you must remember that your average Morris Minor in 1950 stretched just 12ft 4in. “The rear compartment provides drawing room comfort for two people and has two comfortable occasional seats which fold away into the division when not required,” we continued. Ease of entry was aided by coach doors opening 3ft 2in wide and a very shallow roof panel. “The interior is rendered very light by the generous glass areas, supplemented by a transparent panel in the roof, which can be obscured by a motor-driven blind. At night, the interior can be brightly illuminated by a concealed strip light, besides which there are foor roof lamps in the normal pattern. “The general style of finish, in keeping with the desires of the owners, is very simple, with grey cloth upholstery, a grey curled mohair rug and figured walnut cappings and panel work on the division with banded edges. “In front, there are two very larger and comfortable armchairs upholstered in green leather. The driving seat is separately adjustable and a sufficient sliding range has been provided to enable the car to be driven comfortably by a tall driver such as the Duke of Edinburgh himself. Each of the front seats is provided with two armrests which fold away into the backrest when not required. “Heating and ventilation arrangements are very thorough. Two air intakes, one on each side of the radiator, supply fresh air to ducts which feed front and rear compartments, and there are three heaters, drawing warm water from the engine cylinder head. The rear quaterlights incorporate swivelling ventilation panes with a large arc of movement.” Of course, the new Phantom also featured all the latest electronic gadgetry of the time: “Control buttons for the heating system, division, electric window winders and ashtrays are located in the outer two armrests in the rear compartment. “The centre armrest has built into it the controls for the radio set and also includes a glovebox. The radio itself is concealed in the luggage compartment and operates two loudspeakers, one in the cabinet work and the division and another in the driving comparment, which is provided with a separate volume control.” God forbid Her Royal Highness miss the BBC Light Programme, after all. Naturally, cigarette lighters and hand mirrors were also provided. On the mechanical side, we described how the underpinnings were the latest in a line “stretching back to the immortal Silver Ghost (of 1906-26) and reaffirming the position of the Rolls-Royce firm as makers of a car which is not only the finest in the world mechanically, but also one which for size, power and performance can justly be regarded as the most magnificient in the world.” Isn’t it wonderful to read prose so unabashedly confident of something British? That sentence written today would generally be considered laughable, to the great detriment of the little that remains of national spirit and pride. Anyhow, I digress; back seven interluding decades now, and the wonderfully analogue mechanical doings. “A range of four, six and eight-cylinder engines with common valve, piston and connecting rod assemblies was designed to the order of the Ministry of Supply some time ago,” we said, “and major components from this range were used in evolving an eight-cylinder car engine which has run for some time in an experimental Bentley chassis. This same engine has provided the basis for the power unit used in the new Rolls-Royce chassis. “Like those of the other Rolls-Royce and Bentley cars now in production, it has overhead inlet valves and side exhaust valves and uses a cylinder head of aluminium alloy RR50 with inserted valve seats. The crankshaft is of chrome molybdenum steel and
Origin: From the archive: A royal Rolls-Royce