Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Harbinger. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Harbinger. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, May 10, 2024

Harbinger

Harbinger (pronounced hahr-bin-jer)

(1)  A person who goes ahead and makes known the approach of another; a herald (obsolete).

(2) An inn-keeper (obsolete)

(3) A person sent in advance of troops, a royal train, etc to provide or secure lodgings and other accommodations (obsolete).

(4) Anything that foreshadows a future event; omen; sign.

1125–1175: From the late Middle English herbenger, a nasalized variant of the Middle English herbegere, a dissimilated variant of Old French herberg(i)ere (host; lodging), the more common variant of which was herberg(ier) (to shelter).  In English, the late fifteenth century meaning and spelling was herbengar (one sent ahead to arrange lodgings (for a monarch, an army etc)), an alteration of the late twelfth century Middle English herberger (provider of shelter, innkeeper), from the Old French herbergeor (one who offers lodging, innkeeper) from herbergier (provide lodging), from herber (lodging, shelter), from the Frankish heriberga (lodging, inn (literally “army shelter”))from the Germanic compound harja-bergaz (shelter, lodgings), related was the Old Saxon and Old High German heriberga (army shelter) from heri (army) + berga (shelter) which is the root also of the modern harbor.  Origin of the Frankish heriberga was the Proto-Germanic harjaz (army) + bergô (protection).  Related were the German herberge, the Italian albergo, and the Dutch herberg.  The sense of "forerunner; that which precedes and gives notice of the coming of another" developed in the mid-sixteenth century while the intrusive (and wholly unetymological) -n- is from the fifteenth century.  Use as a verb began in the 1640s; to harbinge (to lodge) was first noted in the late fifteenth century.

Harbinger of Autumn (1922) by Paul Klee (1879-1940), watercolor and pencil on paper bordered with watercolor and pen, mounted on card, Yale University Art Gallery.

Death and Destruction

The original, late medieval, meaning of harbinger was “lodging-house keeper”, one who harbors people for the night, the word derived from harbourer or, as it was then spelled herberer or herberger.  Herberer derives from the French word for inn (auberge) and “Ye herbergers…” are referred to as the hotel managers of their day in the Old English text The Lambeth Homilies, circa 1175.  By the thirteenth century, harbinger had shifted meaning, referring now to a scout who went ahead of a military formation or royal court to book lodgings and meals for the oncoming horde.  This is the source of the modern meaning of “an advance messenger” that we understand now, Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) apparently the first to adopt the form in The Man of Law's Tale (circa 1386):

The fame anon thurgh toun is born
How Alla kyng shal comen on pilgrymage,
By herbergeours that wenten hym biforn

A modern translation of which is:

The news through all the town was carried,
How King Alla would come on pilgrimage,
By harbingers that went before him

In Modern English, harbinger exists only in a metaphorical sense meaning forerunner or announcer.  In the narrow technical sense, almost anything can be harbingered; a warm day in late winter can be a harbinger of spring but popular use, in this gloomy age, is now almost exclusively of harbingers of pain, suffering, doom, death and destruction.

I grew. Foul weather, dreams, forebodings
Were bearing me - a Ganymede -
Away from earth; distress was growing
Like wings - to spread, to hold, to lead.
 
I grew. The veil of woven sunsets
At dusk would cling to me and swell.
With wine in glasses we would gather
To celebrate a sad farewell,
 
And yet the eagle's clasp already
Refreshes forearms' heated strain.
The days have gone, when, love, you floated
Above me, harbinger of pain.
 
Do we not share the sky, the flying?
Now, like a swan, his death-song done,
Rejoice! In triumph, with the eagle
Shoulder to shoulder, we are one.

I grew. Foul weather, dreams, forebodings… by Boris Pasternak (1890-1960).

The phrase “a crypto-fascist...harbinger of Doom” isn’t a quote from one of Gore Vidal’s (1925–2012) many thoughts on William F Buckley (1925–2008) but comes from a review by Rachel Handler (a senior editor at Vulture and New York) of Lindsay Lohan’s Netflix film Irish Wish (2024).  While it’s not unknown for reviewers to take movies seriously, it’s unlikely many rom-coms have ever been thought to demand deconstruction to reveal they’re part of a “larger sociopolitical plot to maintain the status quo, quell dissent, replace much of the workforce with AI, install a permanent Christian theocratic dictator, and make Ireland look weird for some reason.

The piece is an imposing 3½ thousand-odd words and should be read by students of language because, of its type, it’s an outstanding example but for those who consume rom-coms without a background in critical theory it may be wise first to watch the film because the review includes the plot-line.  If having watched and (sort of) enjoyed the film, one should then read the review and hopefully begin faintly to understand why one was wrong.  Ms Handler really didn’t like the thing and having already damned Ms Lohan’s first Netfix production (Falling for Christmas (2022)) as “a Dante’s Inferno-esque allegory”, she’s unlikely much to be looking forward to the promised third.  All should however hope she writes a review.

Monday, March 18, 2024

Impeach

Impeach (pronounced im-peech)

(1) To accuse (a public official) before an appropriate tribunal of misconduct in office.

(2) In law, as “to impeach a witness”; to demonstrate in court that a testimony under oath contradicts another testimony from the same person, usually one taken during deposition.

(3) To bring an accusation against; to call in question; cast an imputation upon:

(4) In British criminal law, to accuse of a crime, especially of treason or some other offence against the state

(5) In the US and some other jurisdictions, to charge (a public official) with an offence committed in office.

(6) To hinder, impede, or prevent (archaic).

(7) To call to account (now rare).

1350–1400: From the Middle English empechen & enpeshen, from the Anglo-French empecher (to hinder) from the Old French empeechier from the Late Latin impedicāre (to fetter, trap, entangle or catch), the construct being im- + pedic(a) (a fetter (derivative of pēs (foot))) + -ā- (a thematic vowel) + -re (the Latin infinitive suffix) and cognate with French empêcher (to prevent); The most usual Latin forms were impedicō & impedicāre.  Impeach is a verb, impeachment & impeachability &  are nouns, impeaching & impeached are verbs and impeachable & impeachmentworthy are adjectives (although not all authorities acknowledge the latter as a standard form); the noun plural is impeachments.

An English import the Americans made their own 

Although most associated with the US where the constitution permits the House of Representatives to impeach government officials (most notably the president) and send them for trial in the Senate, the concept of impeachment is a borrowing from the procedures of the UK Parliament.  Always a rare mechanism, impeachment was first used in England in 1376 with the last UK case in 1806 and while technically extant, is probably obsolete although it’s not unknown for relics of the UK’s long legal past occasionally to be resuscitated.  What is more likely is that matters once dealt with by impeachment would now be brought before a court although most historians and constitutional lawyers seem to believe it remains part of UK constitutional law and abolition would demand legislation.  That was exactly what select committees recommended in 1967 and again ten years later but nothing was done and despite the New Labour government (1997-2010) imposing some quite radical structural changes on the legal system, the mechanism of impeachment remained untouched.  In September 2019, it was reported that opposition politicians in the House of Commons were considering impeachment proceedings against Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) "on charges of gross misconduct in relation to the unlawful prorogation of parliament", as well as his threat to break the law by failing to comply with the European Union (Withdrawal) (No. 2) Act 2019 (which required the prime-minister in certain circumstances to seek an extension to the Brexit withdrawal date of 31 October 2019).  Mr Johnson survived that one though it proved a temporary reprieve for his premiership.

Although the Sturm und Drang of Donald Trump’s (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) unprecedented two impeachments was entertaining for political junkies, as a spectacle the two trials were muted affairs because the verdicts were both predictable.  Under the US Constitution, the House of Representatives has the “sole Power of Impeachment” (essentially a form of indictment in other proceedings) while the Senate is vested with “the sole Power to try all Impeachments”.  An act of impeachment requires only a majority vote on the floor of a House but conviction in the Senate demand “the concurrence of two thirds of the members present”.  Given the numbers and the state of partisan which these days characterizes the two-party system, nobody in Washington DC believed there was even a vague prospect of Mr Trump being convicted.  Still, the dreary, confected, set-piece speeches on both sides were like slabs of raw meat thrown to the attack dogs watching Fox News and NBC so in that sense it was a kind of substitute for what the Founding Fathers might have hoped would have been the standard of debate in the Congress, 250-odd years on.  In an ominous sign, the Republicans have since made attempts to stage a retaliatory impeachment trial of Joe Biden (b 1942; US president since 2021) despite knowing there is no prospect of a conviction.  Political scientists have expressed concern this may be a harbinger of something like the situation is some countries (such as Pakistan & Bangladesh (the old West & East Pakistan)) where it is almost a form of ritualized revenge to pursue one's predecessor through the courts, jailing them if possible.  The hope is that such a culture might be peculiar to the Trump era and something less confrontation might emerge when he leaves the stage although, what he has threatened in a second term does sound like he has vengeance on his mind.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011. 

The best impeachment in the US was the one which never was, the one Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) avoided by resigning the presidency on 9 August 1974.  That an impeachment became inevitable was Nixon’s own fault.  The evidence of those acts of Nixon which met the standard of “Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.” existed only on the tapes which came to the knowledge of those investigating the White House’s involvement in the Watergate affair only through a chance remark by an aide; prior to that the existence of the president’s recording mechanism had been restricted to a small circle around Nixon.  There was a wealth of other material which hinted or suggested there may have been unlawful acts by Nixon but what was lacking was what came to be called the “smoking gun”, the undeniable proof.  That proof was on the tapes and as soon as knowledge of them became public, Nixon should have destroyed them and the ways and means existed close to home.  Even in oppressively hot Washington summers, Nixon would have the air-conditioning turned high to provide a wintery ambiance and have a log fire burning in the fireplace, close to which he would sit while writing his noted on yellow legal pads; it was a lifelong habit.

Washington Post 7 August 1974.

The tapes should have been tossed into that fire and that would have solved the problem, a smoking tape no smoking gun.  It would of course have created other problems but they were political and could be handled in a way legal difficulties could not.  However, as soon as the tapes were subpoenaed they became evidence and their destruction would have been an obstruction of justice or worse.  Nixon had a narrow window of opportunity and didn’t take it, apparently convinced the doctrine of executive privilege would operate to ensure he wasn’t required to surrender the tapes to the investigators although in some of his subsequent writings he also maintained he genuinely believed they contained nothing which could cause him problems.  Given he genuinely would have had no knowledge of what exactly was on the tapes, that is at least plausible but all the material since published suggests his opinion of the protection executive privilege affords a president was the critical factor.  As it was the US Supreme Court (SCOTUS) limited the application of the doctrine and compelled Nixon to hand over the tapes.

New York Times, 9 August 1974.

With the release of the “smoking gun tape” which contained recordings proving Nixon was implicated in the cover-up of the involvement in the Watergate break-in by staff connected to the White House, his support in the Congress collapsed and those Republican representatives who previously had refused to vote for impeachment switched sides and the same day, after sounding out the numbers in the Senate, a delegation of senior Republican senators told the president he would be convicted and by a decisive margin.  What was revealed on the tapes was enough to seal his fate but the verdict of history might have been worse still because To this day, mystery surrounds one tape in particular, a recording of a discussion between Nixon and HR Haldeman (1926–1993; White House chief of staff 1969-1973) on 20 June 1972, three days after the Watergate break-in.  Of obviously great interest, when reviewed, there was found to be a gap of 18½ minutes, the explanations offered of how, why or by whom the erasure was effected ranging from the humorously accidental to the darkly conspiratorial but half a century on, it remains a mystery.  Taking advantage of new data-recovery technology, the US government did in subsequent decades make several attempts to “un-delete” the gap but without success and it may be, given the nature of magnetic tape, that there is literally nothing left to find.  However, the tape is stored in a secure, climate-controlled facility in case technical means emerge and while it’s unlikely the contents would reveal anything not already known or assumed, it would be of great interest to historians.  What would be even more interesting is the identity of who it was that erased the famous 18½ minutes but that will likely never be known; after fifty years, it’s thought that were there to be any death-bed confessions, they should by now have been heard.  Some have their lists of names of those who might have "pressed the erase button" and while mostly sub-sets of Watergate's "usual suspects", one who tends not to appear is Nixon himself, the usual consensus being he was technically too inept to operate a tape machine though it's not impossible he ordered someone to do the deed.  However it happened, the suspects most often mentioned as having had their "finger on the button" (which may have been a foot-pedal) are Nixon's secretary and his chief of staff. 

On 8 August 1974, Nixon resigned his office, effective the next day, saying in conclusion during his nationally televised speech:

To leave office before my term is completed is abhorrent to every instinct in my body. But as President, I must put the interest of America first. America needs a full-time President and a full-time Congress, particularly at this time with problems we face at home and abroad. To continue to fight through the months ahead for my personal vindication would almost totally absorb the time and attention of both the President and the Congress in a period when our entire focus should be on the great issues of peace abroad and prosperity without inflation at home. Therefore, I shall resign the Presidency effective at noon tomorrow. Vice President Ford will be sworn in as President at that hour in this office.

Herblock's (Herbert Block; 1909–2001) Watergate affair-era take on Richard Nixon's then novel position on the presidency and the US Constitution, Washington Post, 13 March 1974.  The cartoon has been noted by some in the light of Donald Trump's comments about the extent of presidential immunity.

Sunday, January 2, 2022

Rigger

Rigger (pronounced rig-er)

(1) A person who rigs.

(2) A person whose occupation is the fitting of the rigging of ships.

(3) A person who works with hoisting tackle, cranes, scaffolding etc (the protective or supporting structures on or around construction sites).

(4) A mechanic skilled in the assembly, adjustment, and alignment of aircraft control surfaces, wings, and the like (eg parachute rigger); a person skilled in the use of pulleys, lifting gear, cranes etc.

In rowing, rowing a bracket on a racing shell or other boat to support a projecting rowlock or other fixed fulcrum.

(6) In digital animation, one whose occupation is to outfit a computer model with controls for animation.

(7) One who rigs or manipulates (an election, a market etc).

(8) A plastic bottle of beer, typically between with a volume between 1.0-2.5 litres (1-2.6 quarts) (New Zealand).

(9) In (usually graphic) art, a long, slender, pointed sable paintbrush for making fine lines etc; said to be so called from its use for drawing the lines of the rigging of ships.

(10) In the role-playing behavior of sadomasochism, a person who applies functional or artistic rope or strap bondage to another person's body.

(11) A cylindrical pulley or drum in machinery.

(11) One whose occupation is to lift and move large and heavy objects (such as industrial machinery) with the help of cables, hoists, and other equipment.

1490s: The construct was rig + -er.  Rig was from the Early Modern English rygge, probably of North Germanic origin and related to the Danish & Norwegian rigge (to bind up; wrap around; rig; equip), the Swedish dialectal rigga (to rig (harness) a horse) and the Faroese rigga (to rig; to equip and fit; to make function”).  The source was perhaps the Proto-Germanic rik- (to bind), from the primitive Indo-European rign- reig-, & reyg- (to bind) or it was related to the Old English wrīhan, wrīohan, wrēohan & wrēon (to bind; wrap up; cover) which are linked also to wry (to cover; clothe; dress; hide).  The late fifteenth century verb rig was originally nautical in the sense of "to fit (a ship) with necessary tackle; to make (a ship) ready for sea" and gained the extended sense of "dress, fit out with, furnish with, provide (with something) emerged in the 1590s; that of "to adjust, put in condition for use, set in working order" is from circa 1625.

The slang meaning "pre-arrange or tamper with results" is attested from 1938, although the noun rig (a trick, swindle, scheme) had been used as early as (1775) and, apparently unrelated was the meaning "sport, banter, ridicule" dating from 1725.  The phrase “to rig the market” was used, firstly in stock exchange c=slang and later more generally to convey the idea very familiar in modern times: "raise or lower prices artificially to one's private advantage".  One use as a verb which faded was that meaning "ransack", from the 1560s.  It’s strange rig & rigger took that long apparently top evolve given rigging was known as a verb meaning "action of fitting (a ship) with ropes” circa 1400 and as a noun meaning "the ropes that work the sails of a ship" from the 1590s.  It may be rig and rigger in this context existed in oral use.  The use in nautical & naval architecture to describe the "distinctive arrangement of sails, masts etc on a ship; the characteristic manner of fitting the masts and rigging to the hull of any vessel," without regard to the hull is documented from 1769 although a number of sources insist the first use was in 1822, probably because that’s the earliest known reference in Admiralty papers.

Use extended to costumes, and clothing outfits (especially if as a fanciful description) by 1843.  In engineering, it was widely used to describe just about any creation added for some purpose but was by 1831 most associated with horse-drawn vehicles and this was later adopted to refer to trucks, buses etc, a use still common today, especially for large trucks.  In oil extraction, the apparatus used for well-sinking was known as a rig as early as 1875.  Rig was 1570s slang for “a wanton girl or woman" which, although long obsolete had had the odd idiosyncratic revival; it was probably related to the also obsolete use from the same era describing "to play the wanton; to romp about".  As a noun, a rigger by 1610 was "one who rigs ships", that sense later adopted to describe aircraft mechanics (1912) and those employed on oil rigs (1949).

The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought usually to have been borrowed from Latin –ārius and reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant was -our), from the Latin -(ā)tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  The –er suffix was added to verbs to create a person or thing that does an action indicated by the root verb; used to form an agent noun.  If added to a noun it usually denoted an occupation.

Flying Cloud (launched 1851) (1921) drawing by George Robinson, National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London.

“Square-rigged” ships are those with (approximately) square sails rigged onto horizontal spars attached to perpendicular masts, sitting therefore square to the keel.  The spars are known also as yards and their tips, beyond the last point of attachment (or stay) are called yardarms, the part of a rig associated with the phrase “hung (ie hanged) from the yardarm”, in folklore the Admiralty’s preferred means of executing death sentences though practiced less frequently than the legend suggests.  The square-rig formation evolved as the standard ocean-going form because, when sailing downwind, it’s aerodynamically the most efficient shape which survived into the steam age, many of the early steam-ships (including naval vessels) constructed as hybrids which combined powered propulsion with square-rigged sails.  To reduce running costs and carbon emissions, there’s now a renewed interest in using sails (or sail-like structures) on commercial vessels to augment the power from oil-based engines.  Square was from the Middle English square, sqware & squyre, from the Old French esquarre & esquerre, (which persists in modern French as équerre), from the Vulgar Latin exquadra, the construct being ex- (from Middle English, from words borrowed from the Middle French, from the Latin ex (out of, from), from the primitive Indo-European eǵ- & eǵs- (out)).  It was cognate with the Ancient Greek ξ (ex) (out of, from), the Transalpine Gaulish ex- (out), the Old Irish ess- (out), the Old Church Slavonic изъ (izŭ) (out) & the Russian из (iz) (from, out of).  The “x” in “ex-“, sometimes is elided before certain constants, reduced to e- (eg ejaculate)) + quadro, from quadrus (square), from quattuor (four).

The square-rigger MGs

1949 Jaguar XK-120 OTS (Aluminum body).

The “square rigger” sports car was one made in the style which evolved in the 1920s and 1930s, characterized by the upright, angular lines of its many disparate parts, the point of comparison being the classic big ships of the sail age.  The term came into use in the immediate post-war years to differentiate these old-style sports cars from the new, modernist generation, typified by the Jaguar XK-120, which featured lower profiles and curvaceous, flowing lines.  The term is thus often used casually to apply to any sports car of the old, pre-war style.

1958 Citroën DS19 Décapotable Cabriolet d'Usine by Henri Chapron.

In the post-war years, the term “square rigger” came most to be associated with the T series MGs.  Replacing the P series which in two models had run between 1934-1936, the T series was, excluding the war years, in production between 1936 and 1955, the year Citroën introduced the DS which provides a comparison as amusing as the XK-120.  Somewhere during those two decades the cars descended into obsolescence but their attraction lay in their charm and the sheer entertainment they delivered, offering an intimate and tactile experience which belied their miniscule power and performance which was, at least in a straight line, modest when compared even to mundane family cars of the era.   

MG PA Midget (1934-1935, 1973 built)

1934 MG PA Midget.

The P series Midget replaced the rather more exotic J series and although the relationship to previous models was obvious, the P was well-received and thought much improved.  The new overhead camshaft (OHC) 847 cm3 (52 cubic inch) engine attracted particular praise, the revised lubrication and induction system delivering a willing and lively character well suited to a sports car.  Knowing many customers would use them for competition, MG installed a strengthened four-speed gearbox and heavy-duty clutch, drivers assisted in their ability to harness the additional performance by brakes fifty percent larger.  It featured also one of the first safety innovations (a thing that would in coming decades become an accelerating trend), a flat-fold windscreen made from toughened non-discolourable “Triplex safety glass".

1935 MG PA Midget Airline coupé by H W Allingham of London.

The P series was offered in the colors which would come to be associated with the marque (Ulster Green, Dublin Green, Oxford Blue, Cambridge Blue, Carmine Red & Saratoga Red) but the most popular choice remained gloss-black.  The standard factory bodies were the two-seater roadster and four-seat tourer but specialist coachbuilders made available more elaborate drophead coupés (DHC) although the style most memorable was Allingham’s Airline Coupé although, being as expensive as many larger vehicles, few were ordered.  At the time of release, the factory listed the two seater at Stg£220, the four seater an additional Stg£20; the Airline cost Stg£290.

The three 1935 MG PAs of the "Dancing Daughters", Brooklands, 1935, prior to departure for Le Mans.

Unlike many of its predecessors, the factory didn’t envisage a competition programme for the P series but a three-car team was entered in the 1935 24 hour Le Mans race. Remarkably, the drivers were six young ladies, bright young things soon dismissively dubbed "The Dancing Daughters" by the even then nasty British tabloids, the reference being to a popular BBC radio programme of the time (a broadcast of a troupe of teenage tap-dancers, perhaps a challenging concept for radio although, in the studio, the girls were costumed skimpily “to get the atmosphere”).  They attracted much publicity but little success, the cars under-powered for such a circuit.

MG PB Midget (1935-1936, 525 built)

1936 MG PB Midget.

The Le Mans experience in part prompted the more powerful PB which was introduced in 1935, the engine was enlarged to 939 cm3 (57 cubic inch) and a close ratio gearbox was fitted.  There were detail changes too, one of which the consequence of an early example of environmental legislation.  In 1935, fearing an ancient species was under threat, the US government banned the export of Sequoia redwood timber so the PB’s dashboard was instead finished in the more familiar burr walnut.  Very much a transitional model, the PB was available only briefly but its debut depressed interest in the PA to the extent that not even a substantial price was enough of an inducement to buyers so the factory converted the two-dozen odd remaining PAs to PBs, both variants sold for the same Stg£222.  Production of the PB ended in February 1936.

MG TA Midget (1936-1939, 3,003 built)

1937 MG TA Midget.

Corporate restructurings are nothing new and nor is the tyranny of the cost-accountant.  In 1935, the MG Car Company was sold to Morris Motors and in the inevitable agonizing reappraisal which ensued, MG lost its autonomy and became a corporate badge and one expected to deliver a better return on capital: profits had to be higher.  The first sacrifice was the competition department, followed almost immediately by the MG design office and the cancellation of the spirited little OHC engine which had given the PA & PB so much of their sporting character.  It was a harbinger, a rationalization which would spread and over decades drive almost all the UK’s motor industry to extinction.  Under new management, the design imperatives were now profitability, simplicity of production and uniformity in parts to maximize interchangeability between ranges.

1938 MG TA DHC by Tickford.

The purists were thus not hopeful but the T series, released in 1936 was the first in a successful line which would be in production for a dozen-odd years, the run till 1955 interrupted only by six war years during which MG’s industrial capacity was given over to military needs.  The T might not have had the OHC engine but the overhead valve (OHV) pushrod unit which replaced it, although borrowed from a pedestrian little saloon, was a larger 1292 cm3 (79 cubic inch) and generated some 50 horsepower, a useful increase over the 36 & 43 the P series engines had managed and delivered it in a more effortless manner than its smaller predecessors which actually made it more suitable for both the road and in competition.  Longer and wider, the T was much more spacious and the hydraulic brakes were a welcome addition, all for the same Stg£222 as the PB. 

1936 MG TA Midget Airline coupé by H W Allingham of London.

The T series made the Midget suddenly civilized although, as part of the corporate rationalization, factory coachwork was limited to a single two-seat roadster but separate chassis were still supplied to coachbuilders and Tickford (the brand of Salmons and Sons (1830)), produced some two hundred and fifty elegant DHCs with such luxuries as wind-down windows, full carpeting and a clever convertible top which could be closed, partially open or fully thrown back.  The Airline style was reprised by Allingham, Whittingham & Mitchel and Carbodies and although much-admired, being still expensive, only a handful were built.  Despite the misgivings, the T proved a great success and was built until 1939 when it was replaced by the TB which included a new engine which would become one of the most storied in MG’s history: the XPAG.

MG TB Midget (1936, 379 built).

1939 MG TB Midget.

By May 1939, war clouds were gathering over Europe and Finnegans Wake by James Joyce (1882–1941) was published.  Into this strange and uncertain environment, MG released the TB, visually apparently as little changed from the TA as the PB had been from its predecessor but under the louvered bonnet now sat the new XPAG engine which would until 1955 power just about every MG made and provide numerous builders of race cars with a light, robust and tunable power-plant, one which would see some of the specials it powered top 200 mph (320 km/h).  Over the years, extraordinary power outputs were achieved, the tough little engine able to withstand supercharging at pressures which broke many others.  Totally new, although a slightly smaller 1250 cm3 (76 cubic inch), there was now a bigger bore which lent itself to a sportier state of tune but, under the dopey calculation of the time, attracted a higher tax-rate.  With the introduction of the TB, the designation TA was applied to the earlier car which hitherto had been known simply as the T series, the same act of retrospective re-christening which had turned P into PA.  The TB was priced at Stg£225 for the 2 seater and Stg£270 for Tickford’s DHC but there would be no more of the exquisite Airlines. 

1939 MG TB Midget.

The XPAG restored some of the character of the old OHC engine, the bigger bore and shorter stroke delivering the maximum 55 horse power at 5,250 rpm against the 4,500 rpm of the TA, performance generally improved in all aspects and made easier to exploit with the fitting of a new four-speed gearbox which included synchromesh on all but the lowest ratio.  The TB was in production for only a few months before the declaration of war in September; the brochures for the 1940 model-year were actually ready for printing and the range had been announced when production was abruptly halted after 379 TBs had been completed.  Rapidly, the Abingdon factory was cleared of all the machinery of car assembly and devoted for the duration to parts for aircraft, machine guns and the servicing of tanks and trucks.  In hibernation for six years, the TB would return in what would prove to be a new world and it would be called the TC. 

MG TC (1945-1949, 10,001 built).

1947 MG TC.

On both sides of the Atlantic, the cars released in the early post-war years were almost all barely revised versions of those last available before the outbreak of hostilities.  The MG TC, the first of which left Abingdon in 1945 actually was structurally more different from the TB than most of the cars of 1945-1946 were from their predecessors because the passenger compartment had been widened by four inches (100 mm), creating more interior space without the need otherwise to alter the body or chassis.  Other than that and some detail mechanical and electrical upgrades, it was essentially a re-birth of the same basic design as the TA of a decade earlier.  Despite that, just resuming production to the extent of the few dozen examples completed before the end of 1945 was something of an achievement given the chronic shortages of steel and other raw materials or components.

1948 MG TC.

Immediately, it was an outstanding success.  The UK’s new government understood the parlous state of the nation’s finances and extorted the manufacturing sector with the simple mantra “export or die” and MG responded, much early TC production allocated to the export trade.  The volume of sales to the Commonwealth’s southern dominions (Australia, New Zealand & South Africa) had been expected because these had been receptive markets in the pre-war years but what was surprising was the demand from the United States and Canada, triggered it was suspected by the number of returning servicemen who had so enjoyed or at least yearned for the little sports cars during their time in the UK.  Although only 2000 of the 10,001 TCs made went to the US, the interest was enough for the factory to do a run of US-specific models (still all right-hand-drive) and it was the TC which whetted the American appetite for small sports cars and in the 1950s, MG would benefit from what became something of a craze, one which the square-riggers and their successors would for decades exploit.

MG TD (1949-1953, 29,644 built)

1950 MG TD.

The TD was the most popular of the T series and was the car which both established the brand in the US and encouraged others to realize the sports car craze was real and thus a market segment to explore.  From what General Motors initially regarded as the improbable success of the TC and TD, would come first the tentative toe in the water that was the Chevrolet Corvette show-car and later the long line of production cars which, over eight generations, continues to this day.  The TC however was, even before it was discontinued in 1949, a museum-piece, if an entertaining one, and it was clear that for MG further to succeed in the US market would require a more modern interpretation of the sports car.  The budget was limited but the culture of simplicity of production and uniformity in parts to maximize interchangeability between ranges now proved advantageous, a small team allocated to develop a prototype using mostly what fell immediately to hand.  In what was a master-class in improvisation, they shortened by five inches (127 mm) and then stiffened the chassis of a MG YA saloon, grafted on an independent front suspension & rack and pinion steering, made the changes necessary to ensure it could easily be made with either left or right-hand drive and overlaid a (slightly) modernized rendering of the TC’s body.  The design team would have preferred to create something more sophisticated and certainly something which looked more contemporary but, given the constraints under which they worked, the TD was a good result, both as a piece of engineering and, more critically, one that made commercial sense.

1952 MG TD.

Underneath, the changes were transformative and they needed to be.  The TC’s platform was little changed from the cars of the 1930s, themselves just refinements of a decade-old concept and while antiquated even compared to its stop-gap contemporaries of 1945-1949, it looked prehistoric against the new generation models of the early 1950s.  The TD’s saloon-based chassis was hardly innovative but was rigid and well-executed with a modern arrangement for the independent front suspension and a rear-end which accommodated additional travel by sweeping the frame up over the axle instead leaving it underslung.  The XPAG engine differed in being derived from that used in Y type so included its improvements to lubrication and the attached accessories.  The most obvious change was to the body, substantially revised for the first time since 1936 and, while the stylistic legacy was apparent, was considerably wider and thus more spacious.  Structurally, the engineering was carried-over, body panels still mounted on the traditional wooden frame of English ash.

1953 MG TD.

A mix then of old and new as many products are.  Even though not one body-panel was unchanged and the interior fascia was new, the aesthetic was entirely square-rigger with cutaway doors, separate flowing front wings, running boards, stand-alone headlamps and the characteristically upright MG radiator with vertical slats.  As had been the motif since the 1920s, a centrally hinged bonnet, an exposed slab-sided fuel tank and a rear-mounted spare wheel carrier maintained the period-look.  Where modernity's intrusion was unobtrusive, such as the independent front suspension, it was welcomed but some changes attracted criticism from a few.  The sturdy chromium plated bumper-bars added weight which it had be MG’s practice to avoid but reflected the needs of the US market where sales were overwhelmingly in urban areas where owners shared parking spaces with domestic automobiles increasingly equipped with substantial bumpers with something of the quality of the battering ram.  Also controversial were the smaller diameter, pressed-steel disc wheels which replaced that sports-car staple, the TC’s tall, spindly spoked wire-wheels.  It was again the intrusion of the rationalists.  Because different wire-wheels would have had to be made to accommodate the arms and links of the rack and pinion steering, the corporation refused to authorize the design, tooling and production for a part unique to one, low-volume model.  The disc wheels actually offered advantages, being much easier to clean and not as prone to the damage and distortion the wire wheels suffered when used on secondary roads.

1952 MG TD (Eduardo Muñoz) and 1953 Porsche 1500 (Rezende Dos Santos), Vuelta de Aragua Road Circuit, Aragua State in Venezuela, 14 June, 1953.

The TD was much improved but there was a price to be paid.  Weighing some 200 lbs (90 KG) more than the TC while enjoying only the same 54 horsepower, the TD was less lively than its predecessor, something a change in gearing only partially disguised so for those who wished for more, in 1950 the factory made available a "competition" version with a higher compression ratio which delivered 62 horsepower, a useful increase of more than 10%.  Officially, the "competition" TD was sold only in markets where high-octane petrol could be purchased at the pump but dealers entered into arrangements with the factory so those with access to supplies of aviation fuel could enjoy the experience.  However, few had bought TCs for their outright performance numbers and the increasing gulf between the little sports cars and the ever more powerful vehicles which began to surround them seems not to have been sufficient to dampen demand, customers flocking to buy TDs upon its debut in 1949 and over its four-year run, some thirty-thousand would be build, most destined for the US market, sales encouraged somewhat by Sterling in September 1949 being devalued to US$2.80, an adjustment of around a third, correcting the absurd post-war maintenance of the Stg£1=US$4.03 peg set in 1940.

MG TF (1953-1955, 9600 built).

1953 MG TF 1250.

The TF was the last of the square-riggers.  It was also an accident of history, the result of corporate intrigue within the BMC (British Motor Corporation) conglomerate of which MG was one, small part and, even at the time, it was no secret the TF was a stop-gap model there to fill the showrooms with something (sort of) new before the arrival of the much anticipated MGA.  What had happened was the Healey company reached the BMC boardroom with a proposal for the Healey 100 before MG got there to make the case for the MGA and the board, thinking the two too similar to be released at the same time, put the MGA on hold.  It was emblematic of the way business would be done at BMC and the many successor corporations; Healey had pipped MG by several days, history for centuries recording how such luck influences events.  Thus evolved the TF, a just slightly less-square rigger launched into the age of the Citroën DS and Porsche 356; even the Triumph TR2 of the time making cutaway doors look less archaic.  The TD obviously couldn’t be made to look modern and the facelift it gained to bridge the gap between the square riggers and the sleek MGA was a quick job, essentially grafting the streamlining techniques of the 1930s to the once upright front, the headlamps now fared-into the wings, the same expedient Morgan had that same year been forced to adopt when Lucas advised there would no longer produce the separate housings; without the demand from MG, the economics of scale to maintain the product just in the low volume Morgan would absorb, no longer existed.  Mechanically, so little-changed was the TF that it could have be thought the TD Mark II had the appearance not so differed.  Visually refined with a sloping radiator grille that for the first time concealed a separate radiator, the bonnet now sloped forward, something achieved by lowering the radiator housing by three and a half inches (90 mm) in relation to the top of the scuttle, the view from the screen that of a Hurricane compared to the Spitfire-like TD.  The front wings with the now partially integrated headlamps were themselves fared into the bonnet sides in conventional streamlining style while the rear end gained modifications to the fuel tank and spare wheel mounting which resulted in a neater finish.  In a nod to tradition, perhaps to distract from other changes, the revised facia panel re-gained the octagonal instrumentation of the pre-war years, a nostalgic touch very well received, as was the return of the option of wire-wheels. 

1955 MG TF 1500.

The TF in 1953 was released using the faithful 1250 cm3 XPAG engine which dated back to the TB Midget in 1939 and there were many who hoped for and expected more.  Whatever aerodynamic improvement the streamlining had delivered, the TF was still barely able to top 80 mph (130 km/h) while the Triumph TR2 tempted many with the lure of the then rare “ton”: 100 mph (160 km/h).  It was still an appealing drive with fine road-holding and handling but was, by any standards, sluggish.  The factory were well aware of this and discussed exotic solutions such as aluminum components to improve the power to weight ratio but it didn’t take much thought to works out the solution was that the Americans had taught: a bigger engine with more power.  In mid 1954, the TF 1500 was released, using a 1466 cm3 (89 cubic inch), big-bore version of the XPAG, now designated XPEG, power increased to a more useful 63 horsepower.  While it didn’t permit the TF to match the pace of the TR2 or other competition, almost 90 mph (145 km/h) was now possible and the XPEG did stimulate demand, almost all the 3,400 TF 1500s shipped to the US.

MGA (1955-1962, 101,181 built)

MG Factory Competition Team with three MGAs (EX 182), Le Mans, 1955.

The TF was the end of MG’s square-rigger era, the introduction in 1955 of the MGA both long awaited and much overdue.  Neither mechanically nor stylistically was it ground-breaking and even during its lifetime would come to be thought old fashioned but at the time of release the sensuous, flowing lines were much admired and in the decades since, appreciation has increased, the MGA today a desirable classic.  It was powered by a 1489 cm3 (91 cubic inch) version of the corporate 'B' series engine and as a design exercise had actually been finalized some two years before it was introduced and slated to replace the TD but corporate politics prevailed.  By 1955, it had been intended to announce the MGA and use three pre-release cars (code-named EX 182) to contest the Le Mans 24 hour race in June.  That was thwarted by delays in the supply of parts so the three were forced to compete as prototypes rather than in the production class for which they'd been prepared.  Against the more formidable competition of pure race cars, success was unlikely but reliability was proved, one finishing an outright twelfth and the team finished a creditable fifth and sixth in their class although everything was overshadowed by the horrific crash that year which killed eighty-four, one of the MGs involved in the aftermath of the disaster.  Encouraged, three were entered in September’s RAC Tourist Trophy in Ulster, the fifth round of the FIA World Sports Car Championship, two with experimental double overhead camshaft (DOHC) engines, a configuration which later and unhappily would figure in MGA history.

1957 MGA 1500 Roadster.

First shown at the 1955 Frankfurt Motor Show, the MGA 1500 was an immediate success; some 60,000 built between 1955-1959, the great bulk of which were exported, the US again the most popular destination.  In 1956, the roadster was augmented by a fixed head coupé (FHC) which, in a sign of the times, included many of the refinements saloon buyers had come to expect including wind-up windows and lockable door handles which, while appreciated luxuries, did make the FHC about 100 lb (45 KG) heavier so acceleration suffered a little but, such were the vagaries of aerodynamics that top speed increased a little, a well tuned FHC able to attain the magic ton which just eluded the roadster, the owners of which turned to the multitude of tuners if they wanted more.

1957 MGA 1500 FHC.

Having earlier boosted the 1500 from 68 to 72 horsepower, the factory in 1959 again gave owners more, the engine enlarged to 1588 cm3 (97 cubic inch), the new model named MGA 1600, the additional 6 horsepower and the more relevant 17% increase in torque meaning the “ton” was now topped by all models and there was a dramatic improvement in braking, vastly superior (and really overdue) discs fitted at front.  Revisions to the suspension were part of normal product development but what was much appreciated on the roadster were the Perspex siding side windows which now sound primitive but were quite an improvement on the celluloid flaps used on the 1500.  In 1961, for the MGA’s swansong, capacity was again enlarged, this time to 1622 cm3 (99 cubic inch), additional internal changes boosting power to 90 horsepower, top speed now a heady 106 mph (170 km/h).  To mark the change, the factory designated the 1622-equipped cars the MGA Mark II, production of which totaled 8,198 roadsters and 521 FHCs.

MGA Twin Cam (1958-1960, 2111 built).

1959 MGA Twin Cam Roadster.

In the English way of things, the most famous and celebrated of the MGAs is the least successful and the one at the time damned as a failure.  The first MG since the OHC PB in 1936 not to use an OHV engine, the DOHC Twin Cam used an engine not fitted to any other car and in that sense of uniqueness ranks with the Triumph Stag in the annals of British engineering failures although MGs problems were at least (sort of) excusable given the analytical tools of the time and, as ultimately transpired, easily fixable, unlike Triumph’s unfortunate V8.  Although not used in the production MGA Twin Cam until 1958, the DOHC engine had enjoyed a long development, the basic design completed in 1954 and two prototype versions were in 1955 fielded for the RAC Tourist Trophy in Ulster and although not successful, the factory wasn’t deterred, refining the concept and using them to set world speed records in various classes in 1956 & 1957.  Critically however, most development work was in high-speed competition rather than the conditions under which most motorists operate their cars on public roads.  Using the 1588 cm3 block, the DOHC “B” series was in the classic mold of small 1950s high-performance engines: an aluminum cross-flow cylinder head with twin overhead camshafts operating valves angled at 80o in hemispherical combustion chambers with a high compression ratio.  Twin 1 ¾ SU carburetors provided the induction while on the opposing side, an imposing exhaust manifold boasted separate downpipes for each cylinder.  The impressive specification yielded a healthy 108 bhp @ 6700 rpm and top speed was rated at 113 mph (180 km/h), testers reporting sparkling acceleration at all but the lowest speeds.  Cognizant of the pace, the factory fitted disc brakes on all four wheels and this time, wire wheels weren’t even optional, the required Dunlop Road Speed tyres suitable only for the ventilated Dunlop centre-lock disc wheels.  Radically different though it was under the skin, there were few visual differences to distinguish the Twin Cam from its more mundane cousins, an approach Mercedes-Benz would later adopt for its 300SEL 6.3 and 450SEL 6.9 Q-ships.  Only the purposeful wheels, discreet Twin Cam badges and some details changes to the interior (including a tachometer and speedometer that accommodated the higher limits) provided the external visual clues.

1959 MG Twin Cam FHC.

Like the Stag, the Twin Cam attracted praise upon release and, like the Stag, the reliability issues soon surfaced.  Reports emerged first of excessive oil consumption which fouled spark plugs and the factory experimented with several variations of piston rings before settling on the replacement of the top chrome ring with one of cast iron and a scraper with an expansion ring; these changes resulted in normal oil consumption.  What was not solved until the Twin Cam had been discontinued was what ruined its reputation and doomed the engine: the propensity to burn holes in the top of pistons #3 or #4.  Applying conventional wisdom, the factory first retarded the ignition timing, then, assuming owners were, contrary to operating instructions, using cheaper, lower octane petrol, lowered the compression ratio from 9.9:1 to 8.3:1, both changes reducing power in the quest for reliability, a trade-off well-known to engineers.  The sacrifice however failed to solve the problem and pistons continue to fail.  What baffled the engineers was they were unable to replicate the issue in their tests, even under sustained and extreme loadings.  Their tests however, while imposing demands beyond what any road car would be subjected to, were performed usually in a workshop, on a static test-bed.  By mid 1959, the factory gave up and the Twin Cam was withdrawn from sale, the engineers not discovering the cause until 1960 and those findings they chose not to publicize.  Later, amateurs would trace the problem to resonant vibration which, under conditions encountered when actually driving (as opposed to what happens under extreme load on a test-bed), at certain engine speeds, the SU carburetors would suffer foaming of the fuel in the float chamber which caused the fuel/air mixture to run lean, greatly increasing the heat in the combustion chamber causing the aluminum pistons to begin to melt.  The solution was no more complex than the insertion of flexible, vibration isolating mounts between the intake manifold and carburetors.  It was a cheap and simple fix.

1959 MGA Twin Cam FHC.

In 1960, MGs engineers had reached the same conclusion.  After disassembling several engines, they noted the balance of the production units was well below the levels of precision they had specified as a result of testing the prototypes, the production engines exhibiting two periods of natural vibration around 3200 and 5600 rpm.  With the stock gearing which most Twin Cams used, 3200 rpm coincided with what were then typical highway cruising speeds.  So, they returned to the test bed and, instead of pushing the engines beyond their limit, instead ran them to the point of vibration and found the float on the rear carburetor would hang on its spindle and not drop, inducing a lean mixture which burned holes in either #3 or #4 piston.  In minutes they improvised a flexible mounting using nothing more exotic than some thin sheet-rubber but the solution came too late, the discontinued Twin Cam’s reputation too sullied for a revival.  A decade on, much the same tale would be told of Norton’s 750 Combat.

1962 MGA 1600 Mark II “De luxe” Roadster.

So only 2,111 Twin Cams were sold, 1,801 of which were roadsters.  Making the best of a bad situation, the factory used the residual stockpile of Twin Cam bits and pieces (other than the engine) and created some up-graded models often referred to as the “De Luxe” which, although MG never formerly applied the designation, shameless dealers advertised them as the “Deluxe”, "De Luxe” or De-Luxe”.  Production was limited by the availability of parts and only 82 1600s were built, along with 313 of the more desirable Mk II 1622.  Except for the Dunlop wheels and four wheel disc brakes, there’s no commonality in the specification, some using a genuine Twin Cam chassis, some with the “hybrid” competition shell and a mix of other options while many were essentially standard MGAs differing only in the wheels and brakes.  Because of the rarity and upgraded specification, the “De luxe” models are now second only to the Twin Cam in desirability.

The other MGA: Lindsay Lohan at MGA Entertainment's "Bratz", 2003 Teen Choice Awards,  Universal Amphitheatre, Universal City, California.