French Cars Archives - CARS // MOTORBIKES

Citroën DS

To an engineering student, the Citroën DS must be one of the most exciting roadsters ever built. Its 4-cylinder engine powered a hydraulic system – which found its way into just about every part of the car. The motor itself was straightforward – dating back to the ’34 ‘Traction-avant’. But, the hydraulic set-up it sparked was revolutionary. Most notable was the suspension. Instead of springs, the ‘DS’ was fitted with ‘self-levelling hydropneumatic struts’. As a result, the car was able to raise and lower itself in a way that had never been seen – or felt – before. Potholes and bumps were easy pickings for the DS. When stationary – with the engine switched off – the Citroën sank serenely down. The power steering, disc brakes, and ‘clutchless’ gearbox were all hydraulically-operated. In each case, performance was substantially improved.

At its Paris début – in ’55 – the DS’ avant-garde styling went down a storm! The fluid lines of the bodywork were – and are – unique. They were functional, too – cleaving cleanly through French air. Front-wheel-drive, the DS handled well. But, to custom coach-builders – like Henri Chapron – the standard car was just a jumping-off point. They created coupés and stretched limos – taking DS aesthetics to the next level.

The DS set a trend for Citroëns. The ID19, and D Super became stalwarts of the Paris taxi scene. Sprawling Safari Estates ferried many from ‘A to B’. The convertible version looked stunning – and had a price tag to match. The last of the high-end derivatives was the DS23. With a 5-speed ‘box – and fuel injection – it delivered 117mph. In the end, almost 1.5m DSs were sold … a fittingly high figure for a fine French product.

Delahaye 145

The Delahaye 145 was launched in 1946. The mastermind behind it was Henri Chapron. Born in 1886, he had been on the steel-crafting scene since he was a kid. Come the close of the First World War, he started his own company – in Neuilly, France. Its core business was importing Ford T ambulances from America – and refactoring them into saloon cars! The custom bodies Chapron created were impressive. So impressive, in fact, that he was recruited by Delage.

Chapron’s entrée to motoring greatness, though, came by way of Delahaye. In the mid-’40s, streamlining was all the rage. Which was tickety-boo – until the end of the Second World War. By then, even some upper-crust belts were starting to tighten. Streamlining – and automotive haute couture in general – came at a price. If the hooray Henrys could not afford it, sure as heckers like no one else could!

The 145 comprised Chapron bodywork on a Delahaye chassis. Plus, A V12 engine. The resulting coupé was bespoke to its core. Its luscious exterior was matched only by its luxurious interior. It went without saying that leather and walnut abounded. Of course, that fell foul of the current commercial climate. Chapron, though, was tossed a lifeline. This time, Citroën came calling – with the offer of design work. Chapron’s first brief was a cabriolet – the DS 19. Subsequently, he turned his hand to developing the Citroën SM … always a good career move in France. Indeed, at one point, Chapron was made coachbuilder to the President. Along the way, he helped turn some of Phillipe Charbonneaux’s dream-laden drafts into roadgoing reality. Chapron’s last legacy to Citroën’s oeuvre was the DS 23 Prestige. Always classy, then – never outré – Henri Chapron nailed it as a designer. From young apprentice – to superstar stylist – he was never less than a credit to his profession. The Delahaye 145 was proof of that – alongside many others!

Renault Sport Spider

The Renault Sport Spider came fully-focused. It was built with just two objectives – to go like stink in a straight line and through corners with a minimum of fuss. Both of these goals it achieved. Top speed was 134mph. Roll was near to non-existent. In weight terms, just 1,740lb tried to rein in the Spider’s free-revving spirit. It did not stand a chance. Four cylinders were all that were needed to overpower it. Output was 150bhp. The Spider was equally unburdened by the weight of expectation. Renault never intended that it sell by the shedload. Rather, it was an exercise in performance and aesthetics – specifically, the trade-off between the two. Hopelessly impractical, there was no way the Spider was ever going to cash in on a mass audience. On that basis, Renault Sport’s design team swung into action. Patrick Le Quément led the way. With the creative dust settled, stylish minimalism had reached a new level. No roof, no windscreen, no side-windows. Exposure as an art form, so to speak. To be fair, there was a wind-deflector … and a roll-bar!

It was a gimme that the Spider would take to the track. Renault Sport set up a one-make race series for it. Compared to the roadsters, competition cars were boosted – to the tune of 25bhp. Renault Sport Spider racing was fast and frenetic – to say the least. Many a top driver took part. Motorsport fans loved it – and turned out in droves. Renault’s top brass were ecstatic. The number of Spiders exiting their Dieppe Alpine facility was small. The buzz they were creating, though, was anything but!

The Sport Spider’s chassis was aluminium. That meant not only light weight – but high rigidity. It was supported by rose-jointed double wishbone suspension. Outsize vented disc brakes were borrowed from the Renault Alpine A610. The Renault Clio Williams supplied the Spider’s two-litre engine. 62mph arrived in 6.9s. So, the Renault Sport Spider provided you with the quintessential driving experience – and not a lot else. Though a later model did sport a windscreen and wiper. Oh, the decadence!

Citroën Light 15

Not many cars can claim to have changed the face of motoring. One that can is the Citroën Light 15. Its unique selling point was front wheel drive – or traction-avant, in its native tongue. And its innovative engineering did not stop there. The Light 15’s 3-speed gearbox sat in its nose – fore of the engine. Power passed to the torsion-bar-suspended front wheels via CV-jointed shafts. Said transmission system was decidedly avant-garde in ’34 – when the Light 15 was released. In road-holding terms, it was a revelation. The only downside to FWD was that it made the steering a tad heavy. A subscription to the local gym, though, soon sorted that out!

There was to be a tragic twist, though, to the Light 15 tale. Its cutting edge features meant Citroën’s development costs spiralled. The resulting stress contributed to the early death of André Citroën – the firm’s founder. Sadly, he died without a sou to his name. At least his company was bailed out – by tyre maestro Michelin. As a result, the Light 15 stayed in production for years to come. In time, it became a best-seller for Citroën. Not that that benefitted poor André much. It was also highly influential. For example, the Light 15’s FWD – and, thus, improved handling – made it a big hit with the French police. Ironically, it was just as popular with less law-abiding citizens – and for precisely the same reasons. Cops ‘n’ Robbers had never been so much fun! Thanks to its 1.9-litre overhead-valve motor, the Light 15 had a top speed of 75mph. Hair-raising chases duly ensued. But – thanks to the Light 15’s independent torsion-bar springing – they were bounce-free. Well, almost!

The Light 15, then, was a benchmark car. It was not until ’55, however – and the advent of the DS – that Citroën let it slip into well-earned retirement. After all, the Light 15 had done much to pave the way for its successor. In particular, it had pioneered the hydro-pneumatic self-levelling suspension set-up for which the DS would be celebrated. Styling-wise, the Light 15 did not change much over the years. Fine examples can still be seen on French roads today – a clear indication of its high build quality. The French have a saying, which translates to ‘The more things change, the more they stay the same’. The Light 15 was a case in point. The rate of change has sky-rocketed recently. So, it is easy to forget that machines like the Citroën Light 15 have long been pushing the technological envelope!

Citroën SM

The SM was almost as much Maserati as it was Citroën. The late Sixties saw the French manufacturer also at the helm of the iconic Italian carmaker. Indeed, the SM was the first showpiece from the new automotive ‘double act’. And, it was a best of both worlds scenario. Citroën’s slick, slippery shape was mated with Maserati’s expert engine know-how. The nose – with its panoply of lights – was deftly faired in behind a slender strip of glass. At the back, a sweetly-styled hatchback sloped gently down to the rear light cluster. Between the two were some of the most eye-catching lines ever to grace a Grand Tourer. Indeed – for budding designers – the SM’s window geometry alone warrented close scrutiny!

Power was provided by a scaled-down version of Maserati’s four-cam V8. The resulting V6 had a capacity of 2.7 litres. There was a good reason for such precision. French tax rules hammered engines over 2.8 litres. The ‘micro’ Maser motor delivered 170bhp. That still made it good for 140mph. In keeping with Citroën tradition, the SM was FWD. To enable that, the gearbox/transaxle sat fore of the front-mounted motor. Citroën’s self-levelling hydro-pneumatic suspension saw power to road, in safe and seamless style. Ultimately, that was the SM’s trump card. The union of French and Italian technical excellence meant the ride stayed serenely smooth – whatever the speed. And – when it came to the latter – Maserati had made sure there was plenty of it!

Classic car though it now is, in its day, the SM felt futuristic. The switches and dials on its expansive dash were impeccably avant-garde. And, the single-spoke steering-wheel would have worked in a lunar landing module! Exterior lines, too, were ahead of the game. The SM’s launch-date, though, proved to be its undoing. Released in 1970, it was just in time for the ’73 oil crisis! With a lowish 18mpg fuel economy, the SM was dead in the water from that point on. Which was doubly sad – because, until then, SM business had been brisk. French drivers had gorged on the first luxury GT car since the Facel Vega Facel II. Citroën did what they could to stem the tide, sales-wise. Subsequently, an SM model was offered with a 3-litre injected engine. Plus, optional auto transmission. All that incurred an upwardly-revised price tag, of course. If Citroën hoped those with deep pockets would save the day, it was not to be. When the plug was finally pulled – in ’75 – just shy of 13,000 SMs had been sold. Not great – for one of the world’s leading manufacturers. Shame, really – since, for a few short years, the Citroën SM showcased European collaboration at its best. An exquisite mix of French/Italian style and technology!

Panhard 24CT

The 24 Series would be Panhard’s last hurrah. The first of them hit the showrooms in ’63. Founded in 1889, the French firm was floundering. It was now pitched against more state of the art cars from Peugeot, Citroën and Renault. Not even the iconic 24CT could save Panhard. It fought the financial odds, though, with all the Gallic gusto it could muster. And the 24CT had plenty to offer, in marketing terms. Not least, its aerodynamic bodywork. Large windows – supported by finely-wrought pillars – provided excellent visibility. Cowled-in headlights lit up the road, with aplomb. For all its feisty resistance, though, in the end, the automotive giant that was Citroën gobbled up little Panhard.

The 24CT’s flat-twin motor made only 60bhp. Capacity was just 845cc. That was still enough, however, to give a top-spec speed of 100mph. That was with the Tigre engine option – complete with its twin-choke carb. The CT’s svelte shape certainly helped, too. The standard Panhard lump provided 10bhp less. At low revs, the 24CT did not pull up any trees. Torque was reduced – and the flat-twin motor ran rough. As revs picked up, though, things 24CT settled down nicely. Transmission was via a 4-speed floor-shift. From ’65 onward, disc brakes were fitted all round. Handling was more than adequate – and all the better for front-wheel drive.

The 24CT’s roots were in the Panhard Dyna. The latter was styled by Grégoire – in the Forties. The Panhard PL17, also, brought good looks and innovation to the car design table. The 24 Series sold reasonably well – given their high price tags. In all, 23,245 cars were built. Citroën took Panhard over in ’65 – and did its utmost to make the 24 Series a success. A car as elegant as the 24CT, though, is never cheap to make. And that, ultimately, proved to be its Achilles’ heel. In ’67, Citroën accepted that Panhard’s Paris factory could be put to more profitable use building its own brand’s cars. One of motoring’s great pioneers had reached the end of the road. The Panhard 24CT, though, was an entirely fitting finale!

Facel Vega Facel II

You know when a car has cracked it. Celebrities and royals are first in line. So it was with the Facel Vega Facel II. Among them was a certain Ringo Starr – drummer in a band called The Beatles, apparently. Along with racing drivers, too, of course. Stirling Moss and Rob Walker both owned a Facel II.

The Facel II fared well at the track, as well as on road. It was, after all, powered by a tractable V8 engine. And its top speed was 140mph. A 4-speed manual Pont a’ Mousson gearbox was hooked up to the 390bhp Chrysler 300 block.

Not that the Facel II’s V8 motor did not have its work cut out for it. With four passengers – and a full tank of fuel – the car weighed in at almost two tons. Thoughtfully, Facel Vega had fitted Armstrong Selecta-Ride rear dampers. A full set of Dunlop brake discs did the stopping honours. The Facel II came with power steering, leather seats and electric windows – all as standard. Design-wise, the car’s cockpit instrumentation was on an aeronautical theme. This particular Facel Vega, then, was fast, comfortable – and supremely stylish. Saying that, it cost as much as several comparable cars put together. So, just 160 Facel IIs were built … in true exclusive French style!