GRAHAM ROBSON
DOCKERS AND DAIMLERS
Until ex-CEO of Renault and Nissan, Carlos Ghosn escaped from house arrest in Japan two or three years ago and ended up in self-imposed exile in his native Lebanon, I hadn’t enjoyed reading a motor industryrelated scandal so much for years. I’d better not name too many recent names in case lawyers come knocking at my door, but I’m happy enough to recall my all-time favourite – the rise and fall of Sir Bernard Docker.
Do you remember when Daimler was such a prestigious business that it seemed to have a monopoly on the supply of limousines to the British Royal Family, and other potentates besides? But do you also remember that it just happened to be in the same high-profile years in the 1950s when Docker-mania was at its height that the ‘Royal’ business was smoothly transferred to Rolls-Royce? Funny, that...
I’m reminded of all this, right now, because it is just 70 years since the first of the notorious ‘Docker Daimlers’ (this one became known as the Golden Daimler) was shown at the London Motor Show in 1951. There is no doubt that without the exuberant influence of Lady Docker, the wife of Daimler’s chairman Sir Bernard Docker, this and five further Docker Daimlers would never have been built. I think it remains open to debate whether our motoring landscape and heritage would have been richer or poorer without them.
Sir Bernard Docker originally came up through the ranks of the motor industry, not exactly pulled up by his boot straps as he was helped along by his father Dudley Docker, a businessman and financier. Young Bernard married an actress in 1933, but the marriage did not last long – it ended after Docker Senior hired a private detective to follow the new Mrs Docker and caught her in a compromising situation with an actor.
Docker had more success in business, becoming managing director of the BSA Group in the early 1940s. This included Daimler and Lanchester cars at the time, and Docker also became chairman of Daimler.
It is fair to say that Docker's business style became more and more exuberant over time, particularly after he married for the second time, this time to a woman originally known as Norah Turner. Perhaps the most diplomatic way of putting what happened next is to suggest that the lady, who started as a dance hostess, had previously been married twice (and to quote an American colleague of mine ‘had widowed well’ too), entranced Sir Bernard. They married in 1949, and she immediately worked her way onto the board of his companies, including that of the Hooper coachbuilding concern.
One famous quote regarding the Dockers’ lifestyle is that they were often the objects of ridicule because of the ostentatious flaunting of their wealth, but Sir Bernard was clearly quite besotted with the flamboyant Lady Norah and indulged all her fantasies. It was Lady Docker, not Sir Bernard, who steered Hooper to producing a magnificently over-the-top touring limousine on the Daimler Thirty-Six Straight Eight chassis, the resulting creation gracing the Hooper stand at Earls Court. The Autocar, normally so discreet and industry-loyal at this time, described it as ‘extraordinary’ and went on to say: ‘It has been decided to let nothing be barred and to send the pale wraiths of austerity into limbo! ...The car is in black, with a striking motif of heraldic ”mullets,” or stars, on the side panels, for which J.G. Francis, the heraldic designer, is responsible. The interior is equally unusual...’
It eventually became clear that there were 7000 such ‘mullets’, and that every item which should have been chrome-plated was actually gold-plated instead. Lady Docker was delighted, posed happily in and around the car for the press to take pictures, used it for a time (chauffeur-driven of course) in and around London, and it eventually made a round of other shows in the wider world before disappearing from view.
Once unleashed on this sort of activity, she inspired the birth of several other Docker Daimlers, including Blue Clover in 1952, Silver Flash in 1953, Star Dust in 1954 and Golden Zebra (which had an ivory dash and genuine zebra skin upholstery to go along with all the gold-plated trim) in 1955. Each was less tasteful than its predecessor, but Lady Docker always persuaded Sir Bernard that the publicity was good for Daimler sales. She was also quite shameless in buying expensive clothes and jewellery for herself, charging the costs to Daimler, and always making the excuse that these were bought so that the good publicity would continue to flow. The couple also bought and restored Glandyfi Castle in Wales using company money, and Lady Docker tried to write off a £5000 gold and mink ensemble which she wore at the 1956 Paris Motor Show as a business expense, claiming she had only been a model wearing it.
Her final flourish was to insist that Daimler listed a Ladies’ Model version of the newly-launched Daimler 104 saloon, priced hundreds of pounds more than the standard type and packed with extra equipment that only the like of Lady Docker could appreciate. Only 49 of these Ladies Models found customers, and it was this final extravagance which was probably what finally inspired Sir Bernard’s fellow directors at BSA and Daimler to mount board room revolts, to sack their chairman, and by definition his flamboyant wife too.
The only individuals who seemed to be sorry about this were the Dockers themselves, who no longer had a cash cow to milk. In 1965 Docker sold his yacht, MY Shermara, which he'd had built in 1938. A year later the couple sold their Hampshire estate and became tax exiles in Jersey, where they lived out the remainder of their lives in near poverty. Sir Bernard died, a forgotten man, in 1978. His widow followed him five years later, in 1983.
And as for what happened to all the Docker Daimlers, who knows?