The long climb to oblivion

The Rover badge is remembered with affection in Ireland by older motor enthusiasts

The Rover badge is remembered with affection in Ireland by older motor enthusiasts. Many of them believe the cars ceased to be true Rover more than a few decades ago.

This purist notion goes back to the time when thoroughly modern styles such as the 2000 and SD1 came in, and the traditional very British wood-and-leather values of the P series were abandoned.

One of the best-known P cars was the 1958 P5 which had a 3-litre engine and was a favourite of Queen Elizabeth. It was also the official car of British prime ministers from Harold Wilson to Margaret Thatcher.

In the late 1950s and early 1960s it was Rover's flagship. It and other P Rovers were assembled at a plant at Cashel Road in Crumlin, Dublin.

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The company marketing Rover at the time was known as Standard-Triumph (Éire) Ltd which had its head office in Percy Place, Dublin 4. The managing director was the late Matt McQuaid, a half-brother of Dr John Charles McQuaid, archbishop of Dublin.

McQuaid's son, Dene, remembers that the assembly operation was very small: "The cars were built alongside Land Rovers and other models such as the Triumph Heralds. Land Rover, of course, was very much part of the Rover company at the time."

The Rover P line-up comprised the 60, 75, 90 and 105. "They were very aspirational and had an image of solidity and integrity. People in those days were very fond of upmarket British cars."

The appeal of Rover here nearly half a century ago was complemented by the strong presence of other British marques. Volume sellers were Morris, assembled by the Brittain group, and Austins, assembled by Lincoln and Nolan. MGs and Wolseleys were built at a plant in Islandbridge, Dublin. McCairns Motors and Buckey Motors, both in Santry, assembled Vauxhall and Hillman respectively. Collectively, British cars accounted for 25 per cent or more of the total Irish new car market.

Their decline and fall here was mirrored by what happened in the British market. British cars were spurned for smarter offerings from mainland Europe, from manufacturers such as Volkswagen in Germany, Renault in France and Fiat in Italy. Fiat, itself now in crisis, became a leading player on the Irish scene, with a market share of 17 and 18 per cent, second only to Ford.

Later again, the arrival of Japanese brands had another profound effect on customer allegiances. Once again British cars suffered.

The 2000, which was followed by the SD1, was a brave attempt to position the Rover brand in the burgeoning executive saloon market where BMW was already making an impact. The SD1 did not have an auspicious start, being launched in 1976 when the British Leyland parent was in state ownership, having been rescued by the British government.

Rover suffered brand contamination under the aegis of British Leyland.

From the 1980s, styling and design came out of Longbridge, the home of BL's mass market offerings. It didn't help either that the corporate name kept changing, leaving customers confused about identities.

Herman O'Brien was managing director of British Leyland Ireland, Jaguar, Rover and Triumph. He recalls a big problem for the three brands when in the late 1970s the company acquired the assets of the Brittain group from the liquidator. "We decided to discontinue assembly of the Mini," he says. "We had protracted battles with the liquidator and the unions went to war on us. There were forcible occupations and we had to bring cars in through Northern Ireland under cover of darkness."

The last decades of Rover saw a close association, both manufacturing and engineering, with Honda. Then came the takeover and subsequent pull-out by BMW.

Two handsome cars did emerge from those liaisons, the 600 and the 75. The 600 was identical in its engineering to the Accord, but much smarter than its bland Japanese counterpart. The 75, thoroughly engineered by BMW, was ironically seen as a manifestation of old Britishness.

According to Bob Montgomery, the Irish motor historian, the P cars were the epitome of Britain and the empire. "The people who drove them had a touch of the Raj about them," he says. "But old Rover wasn't totally old-fashioned - they had gas turbine cars running at Le Mans in the mid-1960s."

Herman O'Brien admits that the history of Rover and the indigenous British car industry has not been a happy one. "It seemed to lurch from one crisis to another."