Into this ever-changing maelstrom of bodies
came the Touring saloon of 1937, and it is this elegant shape that adorns our
featured car. The model is commonly referred to as the Continental, which was
to have been its official name until Rolls-Royce objected. It was offered for
only one year in this form – the 1938 Touring is, confusingly, a completely
different car. As with so many Riley saloons of the era, it’s beautifully
resolved – perhaps not quite as flowing as the six-light Kestrel, but more
sporting than the Falcon. The idea was that it would be a practical choice,
hence the boot, which looks as though it should be spacious yet is anything
but. The spare wheel prevents you from packing much luggage, which rather
blunts the ‘Touring’ objective.
In
Touring form, the Riley is the more rakish of the two, especially in profile
The MG looks more substantial than the
Riley-especially around the rear three-quarters and it features a more upright
boot, which again is not as capacious as you would expect.
The upright grille and twin spare wheels (a factory option fitted to Keith
Bush’s car) both contribute to the feeling that the VA is the more
conservative, grown-up design. It’s full of neat details, though. The liberal
use of the Octagon badge was apparently at the behest of Cecil Kimber, who was
keen that MG’s identity should still be clearly stamped upon the new model. As
such, you can find it on everything from the door handles to the interior
lamps.
Engine
borrowed heavily from Nine's design tubular manifold on this car is
non-standard
Inside, both cars offer the combination of
atmosphere and discreet good taste that can only come from a 1930s saloon. Into
the staple diet of wood and leather are woven contemporary touches such as Art
Deco sunburst door cards and elegant dials set on the Riley as in the MG –
within a centrally mounted wooden dashboard. The VA feels more airy and
spacious, but both cars offer cosy, comfortable and beautifully sculpted rear
seats.
Slide behind the wheel of the MG and your
feet rest quite high, with the pedals close together. It’s a commanding
viewpoint that enables you to easily place the car when you’re on the move. As
with so many models of this era the VA and Riley ‘wander’ down the road, the
wheels following every little variation. If you are clumsy with the steering –
especially on badly maintained B-roads – you can easily end up overcorrecting,
but you soon adapt to the way in which they chatter along.
Slide
behind the wheel of the MG and your feet rest quite high, with the pedals close
together.
Contrary to its exterior appearance, the MG
feels like the more sporting of the two thanks, in this instance, to Bush
having uprated the engine to the 1708cc, 63bhp specification that was used in
police Vas. It therefore sounds stronger than the Riley’s ‘four’, pulling well
through the gears, although both cars are equally happy maintaining a 50mph
cruise.
There is synchromesh on all but first gear,
but nonetheless Bush double-declutches his way up and down the ’box, moving the
stubby lever through its delightful open gate – complete with a ‘lock-out’ for
reverse – so I do likewise. On more than one occasion, we approach a corner and
I go to change down, only for him to assure me that it’s fine where it is and
the torque will pull the car through, which – of course – it does.
The Riley features Armstrong Siddeley’s
preselector gearbox that was adopted as part of the company’s determination to make
driving as easy as possible. Operating it is indeed simple: once you’re on the
move, you slide the column mounted lever into the relevant position. When you
next press and release the gear change pedal, that ratio will be selected.
Coming from a time when synchromesh was in its infancy, you can see the appeal
for owners who struggled with a manual gearbox. That said, Riley did offer a
three-speed, dual-overdrive transmission as an option from mid-1937. In fact,
when the 12/4 was launched at the London Motor Show, the Falcon on display was
fitted with an all-synchromesh unit, the development and production of which
was subsequently abandoned.
The harsh lessons that had been learned at
Abingdon, and which resulted in the VA sitting comfortably within a streamlined
range between the SA and T-series sports cars, took a little longer to reach
Coventry. BY 1938, however, Riley’s ambitious approach had caught up with it
and, on 24 February, the Receiver was called in. That September, Riley joined
Mg as part of the Nuffield Organization after a proposed merger with Triumph
failed. Assurances were given by William Morris himself that “the company may
add to the great reputation it has so deservedly won”. In mid-1936, the Riley
range comprised four different engines and 22 model variations. For 1939, only
the 11/2- and 21/2-litre engines
survived, in saloon or drop head bodies.
While the VA proved unpopular among the
diehards when new, it was – and remains a classy and very able rival for the
12/4, a car introduced at the height of Riley’s powers. The latter’s crisp,
delicate styling gives it the edge it for me but, in this uprated form, the MG
feels impressively sporting and adds up to more than the sum of its relatively
humble parts. The rivalry between the two marques would continue but, once they
were under the same roof, it would never be quite the same again.
