Five Classic Trials
The Jowett Javelin’s flat-four engine, advanced engineering and delicate styling helped it to stand out from the Forties crowd, reckons Nick Larkin
Jowett Javelin
Is it just me, or does the Jowett Javelin look French? Oh no – yet another question to add to all the others centred on the extraordinary automobile in front of us. Hang on, though – surely there’s a bit of Lancia Aprilia in there? And some Lincoln Zephyr?
But the Javelin was made in Bradford, and if the sight of it inspires a thousand enquiries, wait until you’ve driven this extraordinary car and spent some time with it.
Let’s withhold the Jowett’s pedigree from our jury and admire the wonderful styling which, despite our aforementioned ruminations, looks like nothing else. There’s the delicate curves; that sloping rear is the work of Gerald Palmer, a star designer poached from MG during the war. Surely a styling masterpiece you could never mistake for something else, despite the nods elsewhere?
Let’s get inside, opening the rear hinged driver’s ‘suicide’ door and shuffle into what is a surprisingly vast interior space. It’s almost like we’re being watched closely by the vast spoked steering wheel with cream plastic rim.
Our car has a metal dashboard (the Deluxe gets a wooden one), and while it’s all neatly and symmetrically presented, it’s a tad basic. Behind the steering wheel lurks a large square speedometer with a fuel gauge next to it.
The panel below the name plaque, which looks like a push button radio without the radio, is actually the main control area. The ignition switch has the control for the lights wrapped around it and there are buttons for the starter, heater, panel lights and wipers, with a clock and warning lights below them. The choke lives under the dash. There’s just about room for six in here on two comfortable bench seats with retractable armrests on the doors.
But now come the real mindblower. Start the car and the flatfour engine’s extraordinary noise fills the cabin. It sounds as if you are trapped between two Volkswagen Beetles, a Morris Minor and, slightly in the distance, something with a V8.
Some wonderful gear whine ensues as you manipulate the truly excellent column gear change – the Javelin was one of the first British cars to have one of these. The synchromesh works well, the gears go in smoothly and the clutch is commendably light.
Hit the road, and you could be forgiven for thinking that this is a two-litre car rather than a 1.5. The engine feels torquey and punchy, the gear ratios are wide and the car is more than happy to cruise at 65mph, and beyond.
The handling is even more surprising. The combination of torsion bar suspension and rack-and-pinion steering makes the Javelin without doubt one of the most manoeuvrable cars of its era. There’s a marked absence of body roll and the car can happily be hurled around bends with fine, neutral handling – we can’t think of a 1940s machine that matches it.
The brakes ( hydraulic up front, mechanical at the rear on this earlier car) are equally smooth and progressive, never giving concern. The pedals are further to the left than you might expect, though. The standard of ride comfort, aided by the long wheelbase is exemplary too, even on uneven surfaces.
Experience all this, then reluctantly park the Jowett up and walk away, trying to make sense of it all!