(first posted 4/6/207) Wilkommen, meinen Damen und Herren, to the Deadly Sins of the German car industry. Why “Bayern Cycle”? Because this trilogy, or Wagnerian importance and length, revolves around Bavaria – even though we will be making a stopover in northern Germany along the way. Contrary to custom, we shall focus today on a Deadly Sin that did not sink the company – but brought it so close to the grave that it’s as if BMW was resuscitated in the ER by Dr Quandt and a flat-twin-powered defibrillator. Get me 700ccs of historical context, stat!
Sporty & classy pre-war Beemers – above: 1935 BMW 315 roadster; below: 1939 BMW 335 saloon.
Initially focused on aero engines and motorcycles, the Bavarian Motor Works was a merger of two Bavarian companies (Rapp and Bayerische Flugzeugwerke) and a Thuringian one (Fahrzeugfabrik Eisenach) in 1922. Six years later, BMW bought Dixi, who made Austin Sevens under license – BMW had entered the car business. By the late ‘30s; BMW cars had become stylish, comfortable and sporty. The company’s 2-litre hemi 6-cyl. engine was widely admired, and BMW launched the 335 – an ambitious 3.5 litre model – in 1938.
The BMW factory in Munich-Milbertshofen in 1945.
The Second World War put a stop to car production, which was coming out of the Eisenach factory. BMW lay in ruins by 1945, like most of Germany, but their case was to prove even more complex than other industries. The Bavarian factories were gutted by the British, French and Americans. BMW were not allowed to resume piston and jet aircraft engine production. British pre-war importer Frazer-Nash got the blueprints for the 2-litre six and made a deal with Bristol to get the engines produced in the UK.
Above: new 321s coming out of Eisenach; below: meanwhile, West Germans in need of new BMWs could always rebody a pre-war car – this 335 was turned into a fashionable coupé by Wendler in 1950.
Motorcycle production restarted timidly in Munich circa 1948. yet car production had started even by late 1945 – in Eisenach. Therein lay the problem: there were two BMWs, one under Western control in Bavaria and another under Soviet control in Thuringia. The Russians were as keen as anyone to drive new BMWs, so the pre-war 321 came back online. It soon dawned on the Soviets that they had an effective export on their hands: by 1948, BMW Eisenach were sending batches of 321s to places like Switzerland or Belgium, earning precious foreign currency for the USSR. More BMW 321s were produced after the war than before it.
The 321 was superseded by the 340, a restyled version, in 1950. The BMW 340 became the standard East German taxi and police car, as well as the apparatchik’s limo and, in wagon form, the ambulance of the GDR in the ‘50s. The pre-war 327 coupé and convertible was also back in production (mostly for export), with coachwork by the former Gläser works in Dresden. It seemed like BMWs had become Eastern Bloc cars for good: Eisenach even projected to make a larger limousine, the 343 (which thankfully never went beyond the prototype stage).
Above: 1940 BMW 337 model; below: 1951 BMW 531 prototype (Source: bimmerin.net)
But the Bavarian side of the business wasn’t going to take it lying down. They were planning a post-war model of their own, based on the stillborn 1940 BMW 337, though the company hesitated to produce a small 600cc saloon as well. But two BMW ranges – even separated by the Iron Curtain – would be impossible to sustain and confuse the clientele. The cars would still be blood relatives: the new (Bavarian-made) BMW 501 had the same 2-litre 6-cyl. as its East German cousin. The two BMWs went to court, which decided in Munich’s favour in 1950: the Eisenach cars thus became EMWs (Eisenacher Motorenwerk) circa 1951 and their version of the BMW logo would sport red instead of blue. This situation continued until 1955, when the GDR authorities decided to abandon the EMW line and marque in favour of a completely new car, the Wartburg.
The prototype 501 was even more “Baroque” than the final model…
Having addressed this Cold War doppelgänger situation, BMW-Munich introduced its 501 “Baroque Angel” in 1951. One thing was evident: no matter how brilliant, the pre-war 65 hp six was not ideally suited to this heavy new body, designed by BMW’s in-house stylist Peter Schimanowski.
PininFarina had been asked for a design proposal back in 1951, when the 501 was getting ready for production. Was it pride or deep-seated Bavarian conservatism that pushed BMW to favour their in-house style over the patently far more modern and stylish Italian design? Some say the BMW top brass thought the Italian design looked too much like the new Alfa Romeo 1900. In any case, BMW were now stuck with the bloated Angel, its rapidly ageing separate fenders and bulbous behind. Body production, initially contracted to Baur, was shifted to BMW’s Milbertshofen plant by late 1952.
Not the 501’s most flattering side. Switzerland was a key export market for BMW.
Sales were pretty muted – and Mercedes-Benz weren’t looking worried. But BMW were flush with Marshall Plan money and saw the 501 as a transition model towards a more ambitious V8-powered car. The new engine was to be of modest displacement (2.6 litres), but as refined as Munich could make it, with the option of larger versions in the future.
In 1954, BMW launched the 502 – essentially the same car, but with a V8 and more chrome. There were not many 8-cyl. cars in European ranges at the time. The French Ford/Simca Vedette was the only one in series production; the Spanish Pegaso, the Fiat 8V, the Chrysler-powered Facel-Vega and the exclusive straight-8 Rolls-Royce Phantom IV were all made in very small quantities (and for very different segments). From a technical standpoint, the 502 was as modern as they came: the all-aluminum 100 hp engine sat in the 501’s sophisticated chassis, with its torsion bar suspension and gearbox placed under the front seats, which made for better weight distribution and improved front legroom.
On the home front, BMWs competed with arch-rival Mercedes-Benz and their new 220a (W180), as well as the Borgward 2400 and the much cheaper Opel Kapitän. The issue for BMW was that their car, which wasn’t that old, looked like it was from a different decade compared to the competition. The 6-cyl. 501 saw its price reduced and remained a steady seller alongside the V8 cars, which were off to a slow start sales-wise.
One way to remedy the conflict between the car’s great mechanicals and its old-fashioned body was to sell the car as a chassis for the handful of coachbuilders that still existed in Germany and abroad. Chief among this small group was Autenrieth, who designed and built a number of specials on the 502 chassis throughout the ‘50s and into the early ‘60s.
Autenrieth’s clientele favoured two-door designs, but a few ordered four-door specials, such as this 1958 limousine and this 1962 4-door cabriolet used by Algerian president Ahmed Ben Bella. The price of these bespoke cars was pretty astronomical though, so only a handful of each style were made (if that). Other German coachbuilders also tried their hand at making bespoke BMWs, sometimes with pleasant results: Baur made a number of 502 coupés and convertibles, as well as a splendid roadster that may have inspired the BMW 507.
Swiss coachbuilders Worblaufen (top row) and Beutler (bottom) also practised their art on the BMW V8 chassis. The mix of German and Italian influences made for some very appealing results.
The first big V8-powered dud was the 505 limousine. BMW eyed Mercedes-Benz’s 300 “Adenauer” with envy: not only the West German chancellor, but many other VIPs were ordering the stately Benz in the mid-‘50s. In 1955, Swiss coachbuilder Ghia-Aigle was contracted to design and build a couple of prototypes, which were exposed at various motor shows to gauge interest.
The legend is that Adenauer sat in it once but knocked his hat off when exiting the car, which caused much embarrassment to BMW. One of the 505s ended up with the Bavarian State government, but Adenauer stuck to his beloved Benzes and nobody felt the urge to order this particular model.
Acht for Acht’s sake?
Financially, BMW were starting to feel the pinch. The 501 and 502 were produced in such low numbers that economies of scale were impossible. The flowing lines of the car were expensive and time-consuming to make, too: the front wings alone required three pressings. Prices went up all the time, but profits remained elusive – BMW cars were sold at a loss of about DM4500 per unit (more than the cost of a Beetle); the 501/502 programme was DM76m in the red by 1956. The 6-cyl. range got the axe in 1958, which reduced production costs but hurt sales. Still, strong motorcycle sales made up for the car branch’s losses, at least for now.
Three in an Isetta? A bit of an egg-saggeration, surely.
Desperate to increase production, BMW licensed the Isetta from Italy and began competing for the lower end of the market. It was also a great way to increase motorcycle engine production (the Isetta came with a 1-cyl. 250cc or 300cc BMW 4-stroke engine). The BMW Isetta’s success was ephemeral though, as economic conditions dramatically improved in Europe at large and in Germany in particular – and the bubble car market was bursting at the seams with competitors.
In 1957, BMW launched the 600, a four-seater version of the Isetta, to try and follow their upwardly mobile clientele, but the competition from the likes of VW, Lloyd, NSU-Fiat or DKW in that segment of the market was fierce. The 600 bombed and production ceased in 1959 with only 34,318 units made – compared to the 136,367 Isettas made from 1955 to 1962. The Isetta and the 600 were too weird to be widely acceptable and their profit margins were very thin.
BMW were well aware that their V8 was still a bit underpowered and that their big flowing saloon looked increasingly outdated. The answer was to augment the V8 to 3.2 litres and 140 hp – a welcome improvement – and propose a more modern-looking model. The 503 coupé / cabriolet was born in 1956.
It was hailed as a solid, stylish and rapid car by the motoring press, but was not a sales success. The market only had eyes for Mercedes-Benzes and British roadsters. BMW were becoming irrelevant. Export sales were not excited by the 503 either, which was too well-behaved, too clean-shaven, too staid and, at DM30,000, horrendously expensive.
Above: birth of a legend; below: the 507 roadster was squarely aimed at (and chiefly promoted in) the US.
By the late ‘50s, dark clouds were gathering over Munich. The ailing firm finally threw a last roll of the dice as regards its V8 platform: a truly superb effort, the 507 roadster. The model was aimed at the American market and made at the behest of BMW’s US importer, Max Hoffman; for the first time, a BMW debuted at the New York Motor Show. Styled by Albrecht Goertz (who also had a hand in the 503), the 507 was Munich’s belated answer to Stuttgart’s glorious 300 SL.
Beautiful as it was, the BMW 507 fell victim to its maker’s atrophied dealer network and dwindling reputation, as well as its high price – close to its more established rival, the 300 SL. Only 253 were made in three years. The larger 503 managed 412 units in four years. Both cars were unmitigated flops.
The 503 and 507 did inspire a few coachbuilders to create some interesting designs: Jacobsen & Steinberg of Berlin made an interesting fiberglass 503 convertible (top left); Ghia-Aigle just redesigned the 503’s grille (bottom left); mustachioed Raymond Loewy designed a bizarre mustachioed 507 coupé, bodied in France by Pichon & Parat in 1959 (top right); that same year, BMW exhibited this 507 coupé by Vignale at the Turin Motor Show.
The BMW V8 found its way across the Rhine in a strange way in the late ’50s. Though in terminal decline, French firm Talbot-Lago asked BMW for a few engines, as they were unable to continue making their own designs any longer. The Talbot-Lago America, launched in late 1957, sported a specially-made 2476cc version of the BMW engine, good for 95 hp. This kept the Talbot within a reasonable tax band on the French market. However, only 12 cars were ever made until Talbot were bought by Simca in 1959. BMW probably never got paid for those V8s…
Baroque Angel of Death – a foreboding BMW 502 hearse by Miesen, circa 1958.
Both the 503 and 507 went out of production by 1959, at which point the automotive press knew that BMW were in distress. The range made little sense (flat-twin microcars and V8 supercars) and rumours about the marque’s demise, at least as far as cars were concerned, were in wide circulation. Daimler-Benz were smelling blood, and a takeover bid was proposed.
The front gate of the main BMW plant in Munich, circa 1959.
The events of December 1959 can be seen as historic for the automotive world: but for the determination of one man, BMW would probably have disappeared around that date. The BMW board called for a shareholders’ meeting in Munich to discuss the Daimler-Benz deal. Things were as grim as could be: the Bavarian State was unwilling to guarantee additional loans and most shareholders saw Stuttgart’s offer as the only way to salvage their investment. The V8 cars had been an expensive failure; the small cars weren’t selling any longer – even the motorcycle range was in trouble: only 5000 were made in 1958, compared to over 30,000 in 1954. There was one ray of hope: the new 700.
The 700 coupé presented to BMW’s bosses in June 1959. The 2-door saloon was designed soon after.
The BMW 700 was cobbled together in desperate times, but by folks who knew their stuff. The car had been developed semi-independently in Austria by Denzel, who put together a very convincing and modern rear-engined proposal, the first monocoque BMW ever made. The air-cooled BMW flat-twin was still one of the best power plants of its kind – all it needed was a decent chassis and a good-looking body (penned by Michelotti). The 700 coupé and saloon were exhibited at the 1959 Frankfurt Motor Show and unanimously hailed as a sensational coup from the beleaguered Bavarian brand. Orders poured in and BMW found they had a smash hit on their hands. But was it already too late?
BMW shareholders at the fateful December 1959 meeting.
Herbert Quandt certainly didn’t think so. Over the years, he had become one of BMW’s most important single shareholders: his family controlled 30% of the shares. During the December 1959 meeting, Quandt initially wavered – he also owned 10% of Daimler-Benz, so there was some attraction towards making a deal from his point of view. The numbers presented by the board looked terrible and Deutsche Bank, who had a seat the board of both BMW and Daimler-Benz, pushed hard for the takeover. A group of shareholders, BMW dealers and unions demanded a recess, during which they made a quick private audit of the books as presented by the BMW board. These did not stand up to close scrutiny: the board was accused of making BMW’s books look worse than they really were to force the Daimler deal on BMW shareholders and workers.
Herbert Quandt (left) some years later, in conversation with BMW CEO Eberhard von Kuenheim (middle).
The board had to recuse itself and Quandt demanded to be heard. He was incensed by the board’s trickery and now strenuously objected to selling out to Daimler and pointed to the 700’s recent success as the road to recovery. Quandt’s arguments were compelling and his passion for BMW carried the day. Stuttgart’s bid was rejected and Quandt injected substantial amounts of his own capital (he soon owned 50% of BMW) to keep BMW independent and in business.
BMW’s saviours – the 700 (Baur cabriolet above) set it up, the 1500 (below) knocked it out the park.
The year 1960 was make-or-break time for BMW, but Quandt’s gamble paid off. The 700 sold like hotcakes and pulled the company out of its V8-shaped hole. With last-minute help of engineers poached from Borgward, BMW entered the very heart of the European car market with a 1500cc car that had been in development for many years. The Neue Klasse, with its Corvair-inspired styling, brilliant engine and quality workmanship, came in 1962 to complete the work started by the 700, transforming BMW from a relatively obscure Bavarian firm to a globally-renowned automotive giant.
1961 BMW 3200 Super 4-door cabriolet by Autenrieth – one of the last coachbuilt long V8 chassis.
The firm did not abandon its long-suffering V8 range immediately, though. The Baroque Angels (now called either 2600L or 3200 Super) were kept in the range, now featuring the first disc brakes on a German-made saloon and slightly hotter engines. The final examples were made in 1963.
Presented alongside the Neue Klasse in late 1961, the Bertone-styled 3200CS was to be the last new model of the V8 line. If nothing else, it is remembered for being the first BMW to feature the famous “Hofmeister kink”, as well as the round taillights that would be used on the second generation Neue Klasse in 1966.
The 3200CS was a beautiful way to close the chapter on BMW’s disastrous decade. Like its predecessors, it sold in very small quantities and probably at a loss, but by this time, BMW could afford a halo car. For his good works, Herbert Quandt received a unique 3200CS convertible, specially-made by Bertone in 1962. Quandt was virtually blind, so he enjoyed the car from the passenger’s seat. Only 603 bodies were built by Bertone until the end of 1965, when the last BMW V8 left the Munich factory.
Result of the decade-long match: Stuttgart 1 – Munich 0. The next fixture, in the ‘70s, was to be less one-sided.
All told, BMW built 23,120 post-war luxury cars (6-cyl. and V8 saloons, 503, 507 and 3200CS) and chassis from 1951 to 1965, of which less than 7000 were V8-powered saloons. Over a slightly shorter time span, Mercedes-Benz sold about 11,400 units of their hand-built super-exclusive W186/W189 “Adenauer” limousines, which were much more expensive than the BMWs.
The BMW V8 range was almost a Deadly Sin in that it almost killed the company. The cars that used these engines were well-crafted and solidly built, but completely out of step with the market both at home and abroad, invisible within a sea of Mercedes-Benzes, Opels and prestigious foreign rivals. BMW made mistake after error throughout the ‘50s, only to pull out the only trump card left in its hand, the 700, at the last trick. This gave BMW’s white knight Herbert Quandt just enough leverage to save the firm. But others would not be so lucky…
Let’s have a look at one such unlucky company, Borgward, in tomorrow’s installment.
Related reading: CC 1962 BMW 1800 “Neue Klasse” – The Car That Saved and Made BMW PN
Superbly told tale of BMW’s brush with death. I had such mixed feelings about the 501/502 as a kid, admiring them for all the obvious reasons but perplexed at their obsolete styling.
Always had a very serious soft spot in my heart for the 700; something about it really resonated with me. One would come across one occasionally in the states back in the day. I’d like to have one with a more potent BMW 1200 cc airhead motor.
I know the 700 saved BMW’s bacon, and you say they sold very well, but it seems the absolute numbers weren’t all that great. I don’t have ready access to the stats, but it seemed to me while it was good enough to inspire Quandt to invest more, and fund the development of the Neue Klasse, it seems the 700 was more of a minor hit, and faded quite quickly too.
1200? Sure you don’t mean Oilhead (post ’92)? I don’t remember the Airheads ever going bigger than 1000cc.
I can get what you’re getting at, though. A current Oilhead tossed in that back of that little, light body would fly.
Yes; I meant 1000cc. Or a 1200cc oilhead. Or something like that.
The bag of tricks for airhead power having included factory supercharging for land speed records since the 1930s and DIY enthusiast turbocharging for at least a decade, a very fast 700 could be put together without any need for an engine designed after 1969 or bigger than 980cc!
Thanks for your kind words, Paul. I too have an affection for the 700 — a perfectly-proportioned little car with the heart of a lion (well, some sort of cat anyway).
Re: production data, etc., the 700 ended up tallying about 150,000 units from 1959 to 1965, plus about 40,000 CKDs. Not all that great as you said, but considering that it outsold the Isetta by a long shot and that most of the sales were to folks who had never owned a BMW before, it was a pretty good score.
I understand that BMW had about 40,000 orders for the 700 after the 1959 Frankfurt Motor Show, which on its own enabled Quandt to use it to save the company. Sales were very consistently above 30,000 units per year in 1960-63, after which the Neue Klasse took over.
Since putting 70s airhead engines into the /2 motorcycles was a common swap, I think an R100 engine would fit right in, with a 1050 big bore kit and a turbo. Luftmeister even made an EFI kit for the airhead.
I’ve got a turbocharged R100 powered 700 coupe in my dream garage alongside a Riley Elf shooting brake, a 13b powered Miata, and an Austin 7 based street rod.
https://www.press.bmwgroup.com/latin-america-caribbean/article/detail/T0052228ES/el-bmw-700:-el-auto-que-salv%C3%B3-a-la-empresa?language=es
Given the reputation BMW has for its inline 6 engines I had no idea that there was that early of a history of V8 BMWs.
Back when the earth was young, Motor Trend ran a Retrospect article on the 507 and it sticks in my mind they pointed to some similarity between the BMW V8 and the Studebaker V8 that debuted in 51
Like having a 90 degree block and over head valves? 🙂
Maybe there’s something else, but take a look at a Studebaker V8 and the BMW and just the head design alone is quite different. The Stude has siamesed exhaust ports in the center; the BMW has four very smooth ports. The head design look quite different, in terms of other aspects too, like plug placement, etc.
I guess it’s all a matter of one’s definition of “similarity”.
Unfortunately, I tossed my 70s issues of MT decades ago, so don’t know who wrote that…..tho, if I was industrious I could drive to Kalamazoo and check the library at WMU as they used to have back issued bound.
If the author was Eric Dahlquist, the debate will need to be put on hold as he died last December.
I remember the issue, probably first 507 I had ever seen. I don’t remember the text, tho. What I know about Studebaker V8’s is that they were designed for growth into a never coming to fruition future of ultra-high octane fuels. That meant it was stout on the bottom and and valvegear but it had little room for boring out. Consequently, that’s why the Studie’s could stand up to the boost of supercharging so well. Oliver tractor had a similar high octane fuel tractor R&D prototype called the XO-121 and it still exists at the Oliver museum in Charles City Iowa, so they concept of designing an engine hell bent for stout was not unheard of. Maybe BMW was thinking along the lines of Studebaker and Oliver, and the future would lie in an ultra high octane fuel source so design it in?
It would have made sense for BMW to look at other V8s when they designed theirs back in the early ’50s. And in those days, V8s were pretty much only an American thing, so why not look at Stude (and all the others… Cadillac, Olds, Chrysler?)
I’ve not come across any reference to Studebaker in my research for this piece, though. BMW’s engine was much smaller in displacement than any V8 in the US, made entirely of aluminum, had a weird centrally-mounted transmission, etc. Looks to me like they did their on thing more than cribbed a foreign design.
I remember the issue, probably first 507 I had ever seen. I don’t remember the text, tho.
It was the first 507 that had ever come to my attention. iirc the car pictured was white with a black top.
A year or two later, I saw another 507 on film: the pilot for the short lived “Search” TV series was set in Germany, and the bad guy was driving a 507 in one scene, which I recognized due to the MT article.
I don’t remember any of the text of the article, except that mention of Studebaker….a symptom of being born with Studebaker’s disease.
There are some that maintain the Studebaker engine was cribbed from Cadillac.
What are the probabilities? A few days ago, I run into another guy who read the promotional book put out by International Harvester in the 50s, and today I run into a guy who remembers the same MT article from some 45 years ago.
Sadly, this wouldn’t be the last time that BMW’s V8 efforts would cause the company major grief. Their “nikasil” V8 engine blocks of the late 80s and early 90s were a disaster, made worse by certain fuel blends and lazy owners who didn’t maintain the engines properly.
I love this series. Thanks for filling in a lot of blank space in my knowledge of early BMW history.
Wow, I have never seen a German car look so British as that 501. I think looking Italian might have been a better bet.
Wow, I have never seen a German car look so British as that 501.
Is “British” another way of saying obsolete? I agree, that fender line does favor 50s Jag/Roller sedans.
It looks like a massively embiggened Morris Minor to me.
It looks even more like a tribute to the early-fifties Austin Somerset.
Maybe BMW could have revived their ties with Austin and imported these to plug the gap in the range between the Isettas and the V8s? But given the time period and inter-racial feelings, that so wouldn’t have happened.
Embiggened is a perfectly cromulent word.
@ J P Cavanaugh:
You should take a closer look at the british “Bristol 400”
The Bristol was pure prewar BMW.
Though the later 1600 and 2002 BMWs had that somewhat Corvair-ish split-line around the belt, the 1500/1600/1800 cars that truly saved BMW’s bacon could hardly have been “Corvair-inspired” as their first model came out around the same time … unless you’re suggesting some behind-the-scenes collusion early on. My sense is that a prominent belt line with hood and trunk-lids opening from there is a perfectly logical way to lay out a pressed-steel unibody, just from a structural and production standpoint.
The Corvair was shown at the Paris Auto Show in September of 1959. BMW initiated development of the 1500 (Neue Klasse) in 1960, and the first prototype was shown in the fall of 1961. Production began in 1962. So the timeline is pretty obvious. Or am I missing something?
Sorry, Will, I have to agree with PN on this one. The Corvair inspiration (“collusion”? Such a negative word…) was pretty clear. A little less obvious than the NSU Prinz 4 or the Panhard 24 (to name but two), I grant you, but it’s there.
The idea for a 1500/1600cc BMW had been in the air for a long while, but it took Quandt’s deep pockets and Borgward’s engineering staff to really get it going in 1960. That’s when the body’s design gelled and when the Corvair was the new styling guru. Even the Soviets copied it.
As to your statement that “A prominent belt line with hood and trunk-lids opening from there is a perfectly logical way to lay out a pressed-steel unibody, just from a structural and production standpoint”, that’s perfectly true, but it is equally true that no one had done it prior to GM.
This is such a comprehensive history with such interesting pictures I will return to this story a couple of times to drink it all in! Thanks for this amazing post!
Thank you very much. Very nice story.
In 1960s my parents had BMW 700. It was their first car. It was superior to the Beetle in every aspect.
Here’s a BMW 505 that’s come to a bit of a sad end.
It looks like a Karmann-Ghia stretched to Checker proportions from this angle.
Wow, that’s really horrible! The harder they fall, eh….
Gotta wonder what would’ve happened if they ran with that Fiat Topolino-like 600cc 531 prototype instead of the Baroque Angels. It would’ve been a shortcut to the 700’s eventual success, but would they have enough of an upmarket image left to leapfrog to the other side of the Beetle segment with the Neue Klasse or would they have been pigeonholed as a maker of mass-market non-prestige cars?
Same though even in 1951 the BMW 531 prototype would have likely been held back by its conventional Topolino-styled layout instead of an earlier equivalent of the Isetta-derived BMW 600 or Denzel-developed BMW 700.
Also one link claims Austin provided the model for the body while another claims it featured a 700cc engine.
Interested to know what the engine was putting out compared to the later BMW 600 as apparently it was also a Motorcycle-derived air-cooled 600cc Flat-Twin unit.
Great read, thank you! Now I’d better leave the comments for later and go do some work.
What an amazingly well told story in what started out as a blog for old cars that are still on the street.
I look at that picture of the shareholder’s meeting and think, “What a lot of men!” Times change, along with the fashions in cars.
That navy blue sedan in the ad is about the only one of these that catches my eye. The rest look kind of old and tired and surprisingly ill-proportioned (Well, maybe not the 503’s, which look to me more Italian than Bavarian). How curious, to clothe such up-to-date mechanicals in such dated bodies.
I always enjoy your stories. But I’m more of a reader than a commenter. Thank you for the research.
Not to criticize, but as far as I know, Beemer is a motorcycle and Bimmer is a car (a title to the first picture).
Aha! Didn’t know that Bimmer/Beemer distinction. I promise to be more careful in the future…
Yes, having owned both I stop to remind people if I feel they are worth reminding 🙂
Neue Klasse!
Tatra, this was your greatest piece yet! I was enthralled.
You have a way of covering years of history without rushing it or skipping important information, and yet also while keeping it interesting the whole time. It’s impressive and I’ve learned a lot!
+1 for sure.
This whole series has been a real treat to read, the authors interesting style and loads of information has been greatly appreciated. This BMW article is one of my favorites.
Looking forward to part 2.
I thought Peugeot had sewn up all 3-digit model numbers with a 0 as the 2nd digit.
Yeah, that’s a good point. My (unsubstantiated) theory is that Peugeot, in the ’50s, hadn’t yet registered all these 3-digit numbers, plus they had never had a “5” series up to that point (the 504 was the 1st one).
Obviously, this had changed by the ’60s, as Porsche famously had to rename their 901 as the 911 in 1963 because of Peugeot’s objections to the “zero-in-the-middle” model name, which were registered to them by that point.
However, Peugeot weren’t concerned with Bristol’s use of the 400-411 numbers in the ’50s and ’60s — possibly because Bristol were too small to worry about…
Great article, Tatra. And I reckon I see the start of the Bangle Butt in the rear shot of the Swiss registered 501.
I have always loved the 700 and have been amazed at how few people know of its relevance. As I said,
“The new BMWs I never much give a second look, it’s the old horsehair seat-stuffed models that make me smile. M10-M20-M30 all the way, folks. Well that and the 700.”
http://christopher-king.blogspot.com/2011/07/kingcast-and-bmw-say-happy-birthday.html
I wouldn’t mind owning a 502 / 3200 Super.
Wow. What a feast. The story around the shareholders’ meeting has enough drama in itself, but you spread out things so well and your image selection is fantastic.
I’m a late devotee of the 503. That is easily a better shape than the Bertone, top or not. And that Ghia-Aigle version with the different grille is more conventionally beautiful and dynamic, but the upright kidneys do give it such grace. Decisions, decisions.
Can’t thank you enough for all those (so many!) coachbuilt variants – that short roofed coupe by Autenrieth (top right) is the single nicest-looking Baroque Angel.
Michelotti was asked to present a 501 alongside Pinin Farina, but his proposal was instantly rejected – whereas they considered the PF for a while. Can’t find an image of it, but this is apparently one of his ideas for BMW from a bit later. Looks too big for the Neue Klasse.
Top read.
Hey, long time no read, Don!
That Michelotti sketch is puzzling. Not one of his better attempts — maybe he had a bad headcold that day. Still, he’s pardoned for that because he designed the 700, one of the best-looking small cars of the era, IMHO.
There were so many Autenrieth specials it was impossible not to stuff several multi-pictures into this piece — and there are still some I had to leave out!
Yep been busy but coming up for air in a few weeks. This article made me break my embargo. I haven’t seen those colour 503 pics and they are radiant. They show the shape off so well. I’m now thinking this sketch might have been Glas related.
Possibly post takeover by BMW
Never ceases to amaze me that it was BMW and not Borgward that emerged intact in the early 60s. I’ve read a little about both and the politics in Germany at the time and can’t help but wonder how much off BMW’s success was down to who rather than what.
Both BMW and VW were saved by the actions of one man (VW- Heinz Nordhoff), the automotive landscape would be much poorer without them.
Ivan Hirst played a part in saving VW as well.
Major Ivan Hirst saved VW it was just bombed ruins when he took over nobody else wanted it or could see any point in saving it.
This was an excellent look into a little known period of BMW’s history that neither the public nor the company seems to be very interested in remembering. I think there is more memory of BMW in the 1930s, when it’s small sporty six cylinder 3XX cars had a high degree of philosohical continuity with today’s BMW.
The magnificent 507 is the exception in being thoroughly remembered. I recall that Elvis Presley actually owned two, one in Germany while he was a draftee in the US Army ( probably the most exclusive car that an enlisted man has ever owned! ) and the other in the US after he returned. The glamour of the 507 was clearly well-established from the beginning.
I understand Elvis also had a Messerschmitt bubble car because he had found them such fun to drive while in the service. Aside from that, the 507 and (if memory serves) a Rolls or two, he only ever drove American cars. So the BMW must’ve made quite an impression on him…
Ursula Andress with her Barris 507 – Ford 289 powered.
Wow!
Very nicely written–I knew of the cars themselves but very little about how much distress BMW was in by the late 50’s. The 507 is sublime and the 503 elegant, but just go to show you that sometimes pretty doesn’t equal successful. The 505 is one I hadn’t known about–did it ever go into proper series production, or is it a single-digit rarity?
Also love seeing all those coachbuilt 501/502 variants, the majority of which end up looking better than the production model!
I think that Loewy designed 507 with the droopy mustache is the inspiration for the Mitsuoka Orochi.
just when i thought i met get something done this weekend, i come across another fascinating series by tatra…
one decision that surprises me is that the 1500 had the engine up front. with the success of the 700 and the inspiration of the corvair, the obvious move would have been to make the 1500 a four door rear-engined car. i’m glad they didn’t.
That poor guy crammed into the tiny back seat of the 700 coupe for that photo op. I hope the company covered his chiropractor bills.
Have read interesting things about BMW around this time between the BMW 700 and the BMW New Class, including 4-cylinder engines based on the OHV V8 for pre-New Class (521/530) projects that would have in turn allowed further enlargement of the V8 engine.
The M10 engine was originally a 0.9 unit for a 700-based car prior to being uprated to 1300cc than 1500cc for the New Class, it seems that some within BMW even looked at producing a 1.2-2.0 Inline-6 based on the 0.9 power unit for a 700-based rear-engined mid-size equivalent of the New Class and that the M10’s design had unrealised potential to easily form a V8 to replace the old OHV V8 engine.
Always wondered though whether the BMW 700 or related model could actually have developed a 4-door variant under the BMW 02.
Brilliant as always Mr Tatra! I particularly enjoyed the wordplay.
Another take on the Fraser Nash / Bristol connection is that the Americans were about to strip out the BMW factory but FN promised to use their influence to prevent that and paid BMW for the blueprints etc. which was money they desperately needed to stay in business. I’m sure they got them at a knock down price, given the circumstances, but there can’t have been too much bad feeling because BMW helped Bristol develop the engine.
Excellent post Tatra, looking forward to the Borgward chapter.
A very long time ago I remember reading a story in a magazine about smuggling people from East Germany to West Germany. One method was to build a secret compartment in a car to hide a person, and then drive across the border. The 501/502 was particularly well suited to this. In the drawing you can see that there is a space between the back seat and the trunk, where the fuel tank is. By making a custom small tank they created a space under it for someone to hide. Very clever.
To characterize Herbert Quandt, a “white knight” (or anything close to that) shows a lack of knowledge about how he and his family had amassed enough money to save BMW (i.e., to launder their Nazi-collaborator money earned from their ownership of Varta). It also shows a sickening lack of respect for the imprisoned slave labor Varta made their Nazi war machine fortune off the backs of. Please watch the excellent documentary, “Silence of the Quandts” (available in full on YouTube with English subtitles) to get an idea of how Herr Quandt and his family’s company stole a Dutch competitor’s battery business during the war, and forced those in concentration camps (including one on Varta property) to work in their battery factories loaded with toxic chemicals and without any protective gear, after having made (cold, calculating & precise German) calculations that it was cheaper for the company to go through more unprotected slaves than it was to provide their slave laborers with protective equipment. Sickening. Check to see how much of BMW the Quandt family members still own today, and ask yourself whether you feel comfortable driving one.
That Wendler coupe reminds me more than a little of the Cisitalia 202.