With the creation of the 1100 range, BMC took the Mini's fantastic packaging and made it palatable for Britain's family man.
And in the process, created the UK's best-selling car for nigh on a decade...
World beater
o the Mini was launched, and the world had showered BMC with the acclaim that it so richly deserved, but in the months following the car’s arrival on the market, things were not all sweetness and light. Quite simply, fuel crisis or not, the Mini was not the car that the dealers wanted; they made little profit on sales of the car, while their servicing departments found its complexity just a little disconcerting. To make a bad situation worse, the first few Minis off the line at Longbridge and Cowley had earned a reputation for below average reliability, and the warranty costs incurred were proving to be more than a little wearisome. Realizing that small cars meant small margins, the dealers felt that they needed something at the other end of the market to balance out the administrative nightmare that was the Mini.
None of this mattered at the time to Leonard Lord, because he had unshakeable faith in Alec Issigonis and his ability to produce cars that people wanted. Lord was pleased that BMC was seen as being right at the forefront of the design-led revolution in the car industry at the time. The Mini also expanded BMC’s range of cars, managing to generate big sales in a sector below that occupied by the company’s previous entry-level models – the Austin A35/A40 and Morris Minor 1000 – without affecting the sales of either.
Initial XC9002 (left) shows a striking similarity to the Mini, but is, in fact a scaled down version of the XC9001, the forerunner of the ADO17 – this model dates back to 1958 and was adjudged to look too similar to the Mini. The next version of the XC9002 (right) shows the beginnings of the ADO16 character – especially towards the rear, displaying the cropped fins so loved at Longbridge at the time. Otherwise, the dainty car looks rather appealing from this angle.
Side view of the later car shows that the proportions and packaging were largely set by this stage in the car's development.
The frontal aspect of the XC9002 shows the efforts that the company was going to in order to give the car some much needed character (they still had some way to go) – but it is at the rear of the same car (right) that one can see that the eventual ADO16 “look” was already set in the minds of the stylists (even if the photograph appears to have been heavily airbrushed to achieve the effect).
The next step in the rejuvenation of the BMC range was to produce a larger model to plug the gap between the one-litre class cars (A40 and Minor) and the much larger 1.5-litre Farina saloons. While the BMC engineers were busying themselves enlarging the A-series engine to 1.1-litres to create the power unit for this gap-filling model, Alec Issigonis turned his thoughts to engineering a stretched version of the Mini, and because the new car – initially known by the codename XC9002, but later renamed ADO16 – would use essentially the same engine and gearbox package, its development was a fairly straightforward process.
Whereas the Mini had emerged pretty much unchanged from the original drawings produced by Alec Issigonis, Leonard Lord decided that he wanted ADO16 be a much more highly styled car, as it would be competing in a more expensive sector of the market. He further decided that this aim could best be achieved by entrusting the car’s styling to Pininfarina, following that firm’s successful work on the Austin A40. This proved to be another good decision on the part of Lord, because what emerged from the Italian styling house was a crisp and well-balanced design that when launched, proved to be exactly the right product at the right time.
Just like the Mini before it, ADO16 was developed in remarkably quick time, and when the first full-size prototype appeared in October 1958, it already had the recognisable 1100 profile. When Pininfarina worked their magic on the styling, the transformation from XC9002 of January 1959 to ADO16 of July that same year was quite remarkable. The Italian styling house had made no major changes to the structure of the car, but in terms of tidying the styling – giving the roofline a makeover and tidying up the front and sides – the overall effect was quite marked.
Nearly there: In January 1959, Pininfarina were asked to develop the XC9002 – their initial effort (left) was a rather bluff-fronted proposal and was rejected by BMC because it would prove needlessly complex (look at the tops of the doorframes, for instance) and therefore, expensive to produce. On the right, the second Pininfarina proposal of what is now known as the ADO16, which eventually was given the nod for production by higher management. The front styling treatment was offered in two forms and it was this version that would prove to offer the best final solution. The alternative, fussier, version is shown below:
In marketing the car, BMC’s policy of badge engineering would be taken to its logical conclusion. This may have been to Leonard Lord’s liking, but it also highlighted a political situation that had been brewing between the competing dealer networks since the practice had re-started in earnest in the late Fifties. Lord entered semi-retirement, to be replaced by George Harriman, just before the launch of ADO16 in the autumn of 1962. By this time, the marketing situation had descended into a slanging match between the competing networks of Austin and the former Nuffield Group (Morris, MG, Riley and Wolseley). The situation was getting worse rather than better because the Nuffield Group dealer principals were looking at what Austin’s dealers had to offer, and could see that the latter had a more complete range of cars to sell.
In the days before Scoop photographs would become a part of everyday motoring Journalism, Motor Sport magazine published these photographs in October 1960, as sent in by a reader. It is obviously an early fully-engineered ADO16 prototype. Differences between this and the final version are abundant: Fuel filler location is on the offside of the car, rear lamp clusters resemble earlier prototypes - and the frontal treatment is slightly different, particularly resembling the ADO16 prototype (above).
Rather than tackling these issues head-on – something that really should have been done years previously – Harriman acceded to the wishes of the Nuffield dealers, and agreed to release ADO16 just as a Morris model initially. An Austin version would appear only after a sufficiently long delay. This sop to the dealers may have seemed like a good idea at the time as a way of pacifying any dissenting voices, but it undoubtedly cost BMC sales and therefore meant that ADO16 had a slower start in life than would otherwise have been the case. On the production side of things – there was a side-benefit to this, in that a completely new model was fed onto the market in one basic form, from one factory, thus helping the ‘running in’ process a bit, and simplifying the handling of initial teething troubles.
So, in August 1962, a mere three years after the appearance of the Mini, the Morris 1100 was launched. If the trade and the public had treated Mini with a certain amount of suspicion, they had no such reservations about the 1100 and immediately took the car to their hearts, despite the fact that, like the Mini, it was not the most reliable car in its class; not by a long chalk. In the years following the Suez Crisis, the British car market had changed dramatically, with demand for small cars increasing hugely. This had the effect of shifting the centre point of the market downwards. Through a combination of luck and good judgment, the Morris 1100 hit this sector of the market square on.
The badge engineered versions followed thick and fast in good BMC tradition, but it is probably fair to say that along with the 1958 Farina saloons, the practice reached its peak with the ADO16. The first to follow on from the Morris version was the twin-carburettor MG 1100, which was more good news for the Nuffield group dealers. Austin had their first bite of the ADO16 cherry when the Austin version was launched a year after the original Morris 1100, in August 1963.
A move up-market came in October that year with the announcement of the Vanden Plas Princess version. In 1962, Fred Connolly (of Connolly leather) had privately commissioned Vanden Plas to produce an upmarket 1100, and BMC recognized the potential for cashing in on the fad for plush small cars, started by companies like Wood & Pickett and Radford with their over-the-top converted Minis. BMC figured that the ADO16 was a far more realistic starting point for the wood and leather treatment than the Mini was, and so the luxury version was born. The concept of a more luxurious small family car proved popular with the car-buying public, and a couple of years later, the middle class Wolseley 1100 and Riley Kestrel versions appeared in quick succession. Eventually, no fewer than six variations on the ADO16 theme appeared, all sharing the basic body shell and only differing in front-end styling and trim – badge engineering gone mad, perhaps, but it did not hinder sales one bit!
Estate version was just as stylish as the saloon: Practical and compact, it made a very appealing package. According to Dr Alex Moulton's own records from the time period, electrical self-levelling suspension was always intended for this model...
The estate version of the 1100 appeared in 1966, marking the end of any serious development of the car. This version was just as stylish and compact as the saloon, but was also a practical load carrier, making it a very appealing package. It carved itself a nice little niche in the market, but was saddled with one significant design flaw: a propensity for the tail to droop markedly under any loading. Unlike Citroën’s more complex fluid suspension system, the Moulton Hydrolastic design with its front/rear interconnection had no self-levelling capability, and this compromised the car’s competence as a serious load carrier. Way back in 1962, Moulton has been asked to devise self-levelling for the hydrolastic system, and came up with an electrically controlled system for the ADO61 - Moulton's notes show that he thought this would be a good proposition for the ADO16 Traveller. Unfortunately, it was never incorporated in the small car.
Whatever the disadvantages of BMC’s marketing-led development programme for ADO16, it certainly did not hinder the car’s sales. The ADO16 in all its six incarnations was soon being built in larger numbers than any other BMC car, either before or afterwards. By 1965 – the year that all variations of the car were put on sale, and when it was at the absolute zenith of its career – the ADO16 took an exceptional 14.3 per cent of the UK car market and was firmly established as the country’s best selling car.
Austin 1100 Traveller interior demonstrates perfectly the minimalistic approach favoured by Alec Issigonis. This was a continuation of the philosophy behind the Mini and, before that, the Morris Minor. The strip speedometer found in the Austin versions was a favourite of Issigonis, although he would have been keener on an even slimmer version, as found in the 1800 and 9X.
But where BMC went wrong with ADO16 was that the car was not developed in order to meet the changing tastes of its customers. Both the Mini and the 1100 were being priced so competitively that there was little margin for profit in these cars, and so ADO16 remained largely unaltered throughout its long and successful life. As the Sixties drew on and the country began to become more affluent, the little car was left behind through a lack of development.
In an interesting parallel, Ford launched its MkI Cortina at just about the same time as BMC wheeled out the first Morris 1100. Both cars were instantly successful and fought pretty much head-to-head for the number one sales spot in the UK sales charts. These cars were considered direct rivals, offering similar accommodation and performance. Where they differed markedly was in their execution: the Cortina was a remarkably conservative car, but was superbly engineered and competently costed by Ford’s accountants to ensure a good degree of profit for the company, while ADO16 was the complete opposite: technically advanced and not at all profitable for BMC.
As the Sixties progressed, Ford developed its car effectively and allowed it to grow in size to mirror the growing affluence of the market, thus responding to the needs of its customers. 1967 brought the MkII Cortina, marking the end of the direct competition with ADO16: not only was this Cortina a physically larger package, but also the entry-level engine was now 1.3-litres as opposed to the 1.2-litres of its predecessor. Austin-Morris’s 1300cc version of the ADO16 was the top of the range engine option, whereas the Cortina’s was now at the bottom. Hindsight would suggest that Ford had read the market better, correctly predicting the trend for larger, better-performing cars, whereas BMC had not.
1966 Morris advertisement picture showing the benefits of interconnected suspension: look at the rear wheels in relation to the front - "The front wheel is tucked well up; the rear wheel is down. The car stays level. That goes for you too". So the copy went, anyway...... For once, the benefits of interconnection had not been lost on the car buying public, who took the ADO16 to their collective hearts in huge numbers. Perhaps, the flat ride, keen handling and accurate steering seduced buyers, who up to this point had been used to much more primitive systems.
Towards the end of the Sixties, ADO16 was finally offered with the 1275cc version of the A-series engine, but that really was the sum total of the car’s development. Unfortunately, BMC even managed to sour this experience, because although this engine upgrade was desperately needed across the range, it was initially offered only to the upmarket models – it was almost a year before Austin and Morris were able to offer the upgunned engine option. If that sounds like harsh treatment of the UK customer base by an arrogant company, one could be forgiven for thinking that, but this was not entirely the case: There were supply problems with the 1275cc A-Series engine to begin with, because its engine block was different to the 1100cc version, it was machined on different production lines. The entire period would prove to be chaotic for the company because of the need to phase in the 1275cc in different states of tune and the all-synchomesh gearbox, whilst still maintaining high production levels to meet the high demand.
Summer 1967: Single-carb, 58bhp 1275cc engine speculatively fitted to the four up-market models (MG, Wolseley, Riley, VP) but still with original body-style; these cars were badged "1275".
October 1967: "Mark II" bodywork (with cropped rear fins) introduced on all ADO16s except the estates, which always retained the original rear design. At the same time, the 1300 version was formally introduced (still with the 58bhp 1275cc engine) in all six marques (so at this time, the MG version was no faster than any other - probably slightly slower due to its extra metalwork). All 1100 models, which were produced with the revised bodywork, were known as 1100 MkIIs, but with the 1300s, the Austin and Morris versions were called MkII (even though there had never been a previous 1300 version) while the four upmarket models did without the mark designation at this stage.
March 1968: Austin America introduced, for sale only in US, Canada and Switzerland. Fitted with a de-toxed 60bhp version of the 1275cc engine and 4-speed auto transmission. According to one insider, BMH deliberately lost money on this derivative in order to maintain the UK’s balance of payments!
April 1968: Twin-carb, 68bhp 1275cc engine fitted to the MG and Riley models; Wolseley gets twin-carb, 65bhp unit, while VP retains single-carb, 58bhp unit; still no mark designation applied
October 1968: The four upmarket models officially become MkIIs (!), with the MG and Riley models getting a 70bhp version of the 1275cc engine, while the Wolseley kept its 65bhp version; VP now got 65bhp version too (or 60bhp with auto transmission).
Autumn 1969: Austin and Morris 1300GT models introduced, also getting the 70bhp engine.
This slow build-up of the 1300 versions was another sign of the malaise within BMC at the time, and when dealers could not supply cars for buyers, it all smacked of arrogance and mismanagement within the company – of course the management would have loved to have supplied demand for their products, but were unable to. What’s more, BMC failed to deliver the kind of upgraded version of the car that the market so desperately wanted. A hatchback version, dubbed YDO15, had been running as a prototype by mid-1966, but the company decided, for whatever reason, that it was not a car for the UK market and so – criminally – ignored this opportunity for expansion.
YDO15 development prototype based on the ADO16 showed that the BMC 1100 was an ideal recipient for sensible upward expansion. Production versions were built in Australia (known as the Morris Nomad); but for some inexplicable reason (styling, perhaps, which was not as happy as the saloon or Traveller), it was not deemed suitable for the domestic market.
When production and sales of the 1275cc versions of the car were finally up to speed, the lift in sales of the range as a whole was apparent for all to see. 1969 (the first full year of Leyland management at Longbridge) was a year of generally poor sales in the UK, yet ADO16 managed to maintain its domination of the sales charts, grabbing 13.8 per cent of the market.
After five years in production and scant running development, work finally got underway on a replacement for the ADO16. Or rather, the more appealing idea of refining the product and bringing its style up to date: initially this development work, headed by Charles Griffin, centred on updating the Hydrolastic suspension set-up to give a smoother ride, and so improved subframes and mountings were developed, which also incorporated lessons learned from the ill-fated ADO61 project. The new car was dubbed the ADO22 and the project moved along quickly once it had been defined – road going mules were built and the results of the revisions to the suspension system were a vast improvement over the existing car.
By the beginning of 1968, BMH had the mechanical revisions fully tooled-up for production, but the style of the body was still to be signed off. When Harry Webster arrived at Longbridge, heralding the arrival of Leyland, he asked Michelotti to produce a face-lifted version of the ADO16, which would have incorporated Charles Griffin’s technical changes. The results certainly looked promising, but the entire ADO22 project was shelved on the grounds of costs – and the fact that the basic design was now six years old, and in the mind of Webster, this was far too old a design to base a “new” car on.
There was also a feeling within Austin-Morris, that the new regime wanted to disassociate itself with the past – and as a result, Webster moved whole scale towards a new, cheaper to produce car, the Austin Allegro
Proposal for the ADO22 shows an evolution of the ADO16 look: would it have remained competitive during the hard-fought Seventies? This is a question that we are unable to answer, but one thing is for sure: it would probably not have encountered the buyer-resistance that the Allegro encountered in 1973.
So, BMC had committed the sin of not developing its best selling car soon enough, but more by luck than judgment, sales held up well during its production life. The car’s basic flaws were numerous, but because its packaging was so effective and its styling so likeable, it engendered an immense amount of goodwill on the part of its customers. From a modern perspective, however, the fact that ADO16 sales managed to hold up as well as they did cannot be attributed simply to the car’s popularity: in its life, it stopped being a “middle market” car – the Cortina represented that sector perfectly – and became a well-established “small” car. As a result, it was always going to find a ready market.
When Donald Stokes took the reins of the newly-formed BLMC in 1968, the desire was to cut the confusing array of badge-engineered models, but the rationalization did not go anyway near far enough: initially, only the Riley models were killed off, leaving the Wolseley, MG, Vanden Plas, Austin and Morris models to soldier on. A more significant change came in 1971, when the launch of the Marina signalled the end for the Morris and MG-badged ADO16s (apart from the Traveller and some export models).
The question of why things went wrong for BLMC after ADO16 was finally dropped in 1974 can be answered by reference to predecessor BMC’s marketing and (lack of) development strategies. Any illusions that ADO16 still represented the desires of the middle-market car buyer were shattered by the appearance of the larger MkII Cortina in 1966, and were finally buried by the arrival of the altogether larger Mk III Cortina in 1971.
So by the early Seventies, ADO16 had been well and truly left behind by what was once its adversary. However, this did not sound its death knell, because in its size and proportions it perfectly epitomised the small family car, a breed that would become so popular just a few years hence. The sad thing here is that no-one in the company seemed to recognize this shift in the market: the car was perfectly sized to form the basis for a supermini in the modern idiom, being of similar dimensions to the Ford Fiesta and Volkswagen Polo of 1976. Had BLMC ordered a weight-reduction programme and developed a hatchback body for ADO16, the company could have had the ideal car with which to compete during the crisis-riddled Seventies.
Of all the missed opportunities catalogued within this website, this failure must stand as an important milestone in the downward slide of BMC and then British Leyland. With the benefit of hindsight, a logical course of action would have been for ADO16 to become an early supermini, and for a re-bodied Maxi to occupy the slot further up-market that the Allegro was eventually designed to fill. In short, the money spent on the ADO67, ADO74 and ADO88 programmes could have been more wisely spent elsewhere. Immediately following the 1968 merger, Donald Stokes stumbled towards a rational model policy, but the tragedy was that the path he followed led to the Allegro and Marina, and all the inactivity of the Sixties was to be replaced by a misguided wholesale model replacement during the following decade.