American cars of the ’40s, ’50s, and ’60s conformed to a narrow pattern. Given a few more months of development, this brilliant car from the ’30s could have left a much richer American motoring legacy
By Ian Parkes
Photography: High Art Photography
You can’t get much more of an Art Deco car than a Cord – so much so that new owners, Paul McCarthy and his wife, Sarah Selwood, went ahead and took their Beverly 812 to Napier’s Art Deco Festival this year, even though the festival itself had been cancelled.
“We took delivery of the vehicle 12 days before heading off to Napier. We still drove it all around at the festival,” says Paul.
To be clear, they weren’t alone. The organisers had pulled the plug on the official event just days before kick-off, due to the threat of Covid. Auckland was on high alert at the time, but around a quarter of the usual 40,000-plus deco faithful turned up anyway, held parades, and generally made the most of it.
The utterly distinctive chrome grille wrapping around the Cord’s famous coffin-shaped nose, and the pure, clean lines of the front wing wheel arches, thanks to its retractable headlamps, are the essence of deco. This model, the Beverly, has the finishing touch of the bustle boot that is missing from the Westchester saloon.
Designer Gordon Buehrig was a fan of French architect Le Corbusier’s ‘form follows function’ aesthetic. He had left General Motors and joined Duesenberg – part of Errett Lobban Cord’s conglomerate – after his design for a car at General Motors had come last in an internal competition held by that company.
Today, it’s the car’s clean, sculptural looks – so unlike anything of its era – that make it stand out. In 1996, American Heritage magazine proclaimed the Cord 810 sedan “the single most beautiful American car”. While its lines are as gorgeous as ever, it is harder today to appreciate the sheer extent of innovation the vehicle presented on its debut at the 1935 New York Auto Show. The new Cord 810 was a roaring success. Given the hit delivered to production of the company’s luxury Duesenbergs by the Great Depression, the strategy to develop a smaller, modern, mass-market car appeared a winner. It was going to be an Auburn model but such was the level of innovation it was decided to name it in honour of the boss.
Empty gearboxes
A spellbound public stood five deep, craning to get a view of this modern marvel. More than 7000 orders were placed, with buyers being promised delivery by Christmas. Too bad none of them materialised. Cord had to make 100 cars to take part in the show but omitted to mention that none of them had anything in their gearboxes. The factory was also battling a host of tooling issues, and some of them were never fully resolved, which is why the roof of the saloon is made up from several small pressings. It was those and other solvable issues and the continuing bite of the Great Depression that spoiled the mass-market dreams of the makers — not an overdose of innovation and ambition per se.
It is possible the failure of this avant-garde automotive experiment contributed to the conservatism that dominated the rest of the industry for the next three decades. The consensus now is simply that Cord was punished by a market that was cruelly intolerant of teething problems caused by only a little lack of development.
For example, despite the car’s astounding road-holding and comfort, its revolutionary front-wheel drive* was apparently judged a step too far. Nevertheless, many other features found first on a Cord were soon adopted by other makers.
The Cord featured the industry’s first rear-hinged, one-piece bonnet – apparently, everything else was centre-hinged – as well as hidden door hinges and a flap covering the petrol filler. These complemented the clean wings delivered by the pop-up lamps, operated by chrome crank handles in the cabin. It’s obligatory to mention the headlamps were landing lights from the Cord Corporation’s Stinson aeroplane.
The Cord also had the industry’s first horn ring on its steering wheel and variable speed wipers. For many years afterwards, other makers’ wipers remained vacuum-controlled, which meant they slowed when the accelerator was pressed — just what you don’t want. Its luxury credentials included dimmable lighting – a first – on its eight dashboard dials and the radio was standard, which also broke all the rules.
Also mind-boggling at the time was the car’s lack of running boards. The car’s body was a semi-monocoque design, a unitary steel body with a front subframe — an arrangement that was still being used by Camaros and Firebirds at least until the 1980s. This resulted in a body so low, compared with the standard body over chassis design, that Buehrig and his team realised they could do away with the running boards. So cool.
While quite a bit lower than other cars of its era, the cabin is notably roomy. Front-wheel drive meant the body was unencumbered with a transmission tunnel or rear differential, and the car’s Bendix electrically controlled pre-selector system meant the gearbox could be positioned out of the footwell, ahead of the 125bhp Lycoming V8. Lycoming, Checker Cabs, and Stinson aeroplanes were part of EL Cord’s business empire.
The interior is as special as the outside. The Beverly features pleated seats, which add an air of luxury, but it is the gorgeous engine-turned dash, the magnificently detailed large dials, and the solid engineering craftsmanship in the unique gear lever and other controls which look like something out of an airship that utterly outclasses the plastic buttons and screens in modern cars. You have to get to the rarefied end of the Bentley and Rolls-Royce ranges to find anything remotely comparable today.
The gearbox is controlled by switches behind what looks like a traditional floor-mounted gate located at the end of a stubby arm sticking out from the steering column. The lever engages a bank of solenoids and vacuum diaphragms that change gears in the four-speed gearbox. Select the next gear at your leisure, then pump the clutch to change gear — at least in theory. It’s apparently great when it’s all working, but it proved to be the car’s Achilles heel, the most telling strike in the harsh judgment of the car’s unreliability.
Striking a Cord
The first deliveries from the Auburn factory in Connersville, Indiana, were eventually made in April, but word spread fast about teething problems with the gearbox. Just 1174 Cords were sold in 1936. As well as occasionally slipping out of gear, the gearbox could apparently also seize at high speed. The revolutionary front-wheel drive transmission’s weak link was a thin thrust washer that would jam the gears when it failed. Today’s owners know the problem can be fixed by installing a quarter-inch thrust washer to replace the original one-eighth-inch thrust washer. There were also issues with a fuel vapour lock, engine cooling, and wheel bearings — all of which could have been ironed out with a little more development.
The engine was designed for supercharging, which lifted power to 170bhp with a 4.5psi boost. Cars with those engines are distinguished by two massive Gangsta chrome pipes exiting each side of the engine cowl. An extended wheelbase version was also offered.
A number of minor improvements meant the car was renamed the 812 in 1937. It did well in reliability and speed trials at Indianapolis and Bonneville and set a stock car record of 101mph for 24 hours – a record that stood for 17 years – but by then, the die was cast. The Cord’s whole production run lasted just 19 months, from January 1936 to August ’37, giving us just 2320 cars.
The classic Cord dicky gear change was the one defect that had been highlighted to Paul when he was negotiating to buy this car from classic car dealer Hyman Ltd in St Louis, Missouri. But it wasn’t bad enough to prevent Paul and Sarah from taking the car from Auckland to Napier and back.
“It was a bit finicky to get it into top gear, but I knew about that,” says Paul.
While experienced Cord mechanics are thin on the ground, Paul said the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Club has good resources and an online forum.
“If there’s a problem, someone has always had that same problem.”
He located this gear selection issue in a wafer switch under the gear lever. He discovered that someone had tried filing the base of the gear stick to fix it, but that had simply made it worse.
“I made a new gear stick for it. It’s complicated but in an understandable way. It was quite a logic-based thing and reasonably easy to check.”
Paul now has the gear change sorted and working well. He is a mechanical engineer and owns a few cars, including a couple of race cars. His Zakspeed Escort replica and a Lotus Europa have both featured in New Zealand Classic Car in the past.
“I don’t think you’d buy something like a Cord unless you were a little bit mechanically minded,” he said.
No comparison
It was Paul and Sarah’s love of Art Deco design that primed the purchase of the Cord.
“Sarah and I love the Art Deco period, and we’ve been attending the festival for 14 years,” Paul says.
Their house, which owes something to the preceding arts and crafts period, reveals their appreciation of clean-limbed, functional, yet elegant style.
Previously, the couple owned a 1931 Chrysler Royale – “We had that for about 10 years” – but they knew the Cord was much more expressive of the era.
“Couldn’t get anything more deco than a Cord,” says Paul.
The Cord was also the high point of American automotive engineering of the period. In fact, in 1951, a decade and a half after the car’s introduction, New York’s Museum of Modern Art recognised the Cord 810 as an “outstanding American contribution to automobile design”.
Paul says the couple had had an eye out for a Cord for about three years, and right in the middle of Covid, this one came up for sale in Missouri. Thankfully, it was also the sedan version, which they preferred. The cabrio or roadster version, known as the Sportsman, is considerably more expensive.
Another innovation on that car was that the hood fitted below a flush-mounted panel, which preserved the all-important clean line of the car’s top deck. A Phaeton, a four-seater open tourer, will go for around US$250,000. The couple’s Chrysler was also a sedan. As Sarah already has a roadster — a Sunbeam Alpine that Paul converted into a Sunbeam Tiger about 20 years ago — they didn’t feel the need for another soft top.
Even so, pursuing the sale under those circumstances was “a bit scary”, Paul admits. In normal times, they’d have planned a quick holiday to the States to check it out in person, but they negotiated their way to a sale on the basis of documents, photos, and videos. It certainly helped that there was plenty of evidence to show the car was restored in 1989 — now 32 years ago; and that it had done just 36,000 miles since new and, even more remarkably, just 5000 miles since the restoration.
Evidence for this came from another Cord enthusiast, who had spotted it in 1940. He had wanted to buy it and had kept track of it for more than 40 years. He had finally given up on it when it was sold to the person who restored it in the late ’80s. He confirmed it was off the road from the ’40s to the late ’80s.
Sarah says the Cord was the most expensive car they have bought and, after posting such a lot of money off into the ether, the extra-long delay in shipping made for a nervous five months.
“The big relief was when the shipping company picked it up,” she says. “I knew then that at least we would be getting something.”
She and Paul tracked the Cord’s progress across the Pacific on the net, and both went to collect the car when it was released from Customs.
“It was marvellous,” Sarah said. “We were over the moon. The condition was easily as good as we were hoping — quite possibly even better. Paul said it was just as good underneath.”
“Like new,” says Paul.
All in accordance
Paul points out the sacking-like boot lining material. It looked like the kind of thing he’d want to upgrade until he learned that it was the official original material and irreplaceable. In fact, another owner undertaking a restoration resorted to finding some material in the closest possible shade and tracing on every line by hand.
Its sparkling original condition meant the car was complied for driving on New Zealand roads in what might be a record 12 days.
“In the 30-odd years since the restoration, it’s been properly looked after. It didn’t spend a whole lot of life on the road. I don’t think it had ever been driven in the rain,” says Paul.
Until it got to New Zealand, that is. On its first outing to Auckland’s Caffeine and Classics car show, Paul got caught in the rain on the way home, much to his chagrin. Given the car’s condition, when that happens, he now has to wipe the car down, both on the top and underneath.
Sarah says the condition of the car is almost too good as Paul feels keenly the responsibility to keep this 30-year-old restoration pristine.
“The enjoyment for us is in using it, not keeping it in storage. The Chrysler was an old restoration, too, but it had a little wear and tear, so we didn’t mind gravel driveways or roadworks. I know with this car, he’s being extra careful.”
Since our visit, Sarah and Paul have taken the car back to another of the monthly Caffeine and Classics. Sarah says they couldn’t stray far from it as a constant stream of people wanted to know more about it. Several thought its unique stance meant it must have been a custom.
Paul says driving it was a revelation and a vindication for upgrading from the Chrysler, which was still a fine representative of luxury motoring of its own era.
“The Royale was a ’31, and this is a ’37, so just about five years newer, but it’s light years different. The Chrysler has a beam front axle and it drives like a truck. The Cord has independent front suspension so it rides just like a modern car; I’d say like an HQ Holden – it drives as well as that.”
Like the Holden, the steering is not assisted and the steering wheel is quite small for the time.
“It drives really well, but parallel parking is a different matter,” Paul says. “And it’s got crazy good brakes – 11-inch drums and twin leading shoes. The compliance guy was very surprised when it was on the brake test rollers.”
Paul knows of just a handful of other cars in the country besides the one in the Southward Car Museum. If you happen to see one, it will be a rare treat indeed.
*It was actually launched on the previous but otherwise more conventional Cord, the L29 of 1929.
Specifications
1937 Cord Beverly 812
Engine: Lycoming 4.73-litre V8, aluminium L-head side valve
Bore/stroke: 88.9mm/95mm
Compression ratio: 6.3:1
Carburation: Stromberg AA25 duplex
Horsepower: 93.2@3600rpm (125bhp)
Transmission: Four-speed pre-selector electric box, front-wheel drive
Brakes: Drum
Dimensions
Weight: 1685kg
Length: 4801mm
Width: 1956mm
Height: 1374mm
Wheelbase: 3175mm
Front track: 1422mm
Rear track: 1549mm
Tyres: 16 x 650
Performance:
Approx. 100mph, supercharged 110 mph
