No story of Tracta automobiles can be separated from the story of Jean-Albert Gregoire. Together with his partner and friend, Pierre Fenaille, they developed the first constant velocity joint under the name Tracta. This strong CV joint was easy to manufacture and made mass production of front-wheel-drive cars possible. The joint was used by numerous manufacturers as diverse as Adler, Miller and Willys. The first Land Rovers used the Tracta joint. Unfortunately, not all the companies using the technology paid for its use, a situation that put a financial strain on Gregoire’s automobile business.
Gregoire was quite a Renaissance man. He had a Doctor of Law degree, wrote books on automotive history and engineering—as well as mysteries and fiction—and was considered an expert on wine and mushrooms. He was also a motorhead. After he and Fenaille developed the Tracta CV joint, Gregoire opened a garage so he could build a front-wheel-drive racecar for the Le Mans 24-hour race. His most significant result came in 1929, when he and Ferdinand Valon finished 1st in class and 7th overall in their four-cylinder, S.C.A.P.-powered Tracta A behind the Bentleys and other cars with much larger engines.
In 1927, Gregoire and Fenaille first produced a car called “Gephy,” but that name was soon replaced by “Tracta.” Their cars had either four or six cylinders and could be used on either the road or track. The Tracta line included pure racecars, sports cars, coupes and limousines, although the latter probably saw little track time. Even after he stopped production of Tracta automobiles in 1934, Gregoire continued to promote front-wheel-drive automobiles. He then specialized in engineering and consulting, and designed a car with a cast aluminum frame. Subsidized by Aluminium Francais, Gregoire developed a prototype small, aluminum two-seater in 1935 and won a prize from the Societe des Ingenieurs de l’Automobile. The year 1937 brought another Gregoire design—the Amilcar “Compound.” In addition to the Tracta joint and aluminum chassis, it incorporated rack and pinion steering and all-independent suspension. During the war, the Germans prevented French companies from designing or producing automobile prototypes, but Gregoire secretly worked on another small car, the “Francais-Gregoire.” This small, light car had a flat-twin, air-cooled engine and would become the 1950 Dyna Panhard. Eventually, 50,000 of these cars were produced, a significant return on the design investment made by Aluminium Francais and Gregoire. Other collaborations were not as profitable. The “Hotchkiss-Gregoire” was a full-size sedan with aluminum chassis and body, powered by a 2-liter, water-cooled, flat-four, with a top speed that approached 100 mph. Hotchkiss, unfortunately, found the car difficult to produce in its facilities, and Peugeot, who controlled Hotchkiss, killed production after only 253 cars were built. In 1956, Gregoire designed a front-wheel-drive, two-seat convertible with a supercharged 2.2-liter, flat-four engine. The bodies were designed and built by Henri Chapron, a well-regarded coachbuilder. Only 10 cars were built.
Gregoire was a serious proponent of front-wheel drive, and his Tracta CV joint made production of front-wheel-drive cars possible. He dabbled with rear-wheel drive, as well. During WWII, Gregoire designed and produced a small electric car with an aluminum body. The car was produced in small numbers and was known for the record it set for speed and distance between Paris and Tours without recharging the battery. There was also the experimental Socema-Gregoire, a gas turbine car with a front-mounted engine and rear-wheel drive.
Tracta E
Not a lot is known about this Tracta E, although not for a lack of effort on the part of Alain Cerf, owner of this beautiful automobile. Cerf is the founder and owner of Polypack, a manufacturer of automated packaging machinery for consumer products. He began what has become his collection in the 1950s when he bought a 1937 Peugeot Darl’Mat at a Paris police auction. The collection grew over the years, and Cerf decided to open it to the public in 2005. Interested in technology and innovation, Cerf has assembled a variety of interesting and important automobiles at the Tampa Bay Automobile Museum (tbauto.org). His special interests are expressed very well in the mission statement for the museum:
“The Tampa Bay Automobile Museum offers an important and scholarly collection of vintage European and American vehicles whose engineering influenced the evolution of the automobile, setting the standards for the cars we drive today. The mission of the Tampa Bay Automobile Museum is to foster interest in and appreciation for the technology, innovation, aesthetics and the historical and cultural impact of the automobile to museum visitors of all ages, through the exhibition of its collection . . . .”
The total production numbers for the Tracta E are not known, although it is estimated that only between 6 and 12 were built. This may be the only original example left. There is a roadster with a replica body by Chapron, commissioned in later years by Gregoire, that is in the Pechiney Collection and is displayed in the museum at Le Mans, France. One other is claimed to be an E, but it appears to be a Tracta D with a four-cylinder engine.
Cerf was not looking for a Tracta in June 1994 when he went to France, in answer to an ad for a Cord. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the Cord was in bad shape. Cerf asked the Cord owner if he knew about other interesting cars that might be for sale and was told of a Tracta 6-cylinder. Even though a Gregoire expert said there were no 6-cylinder Tractas left, Cerf pursued the lead and found the car. The car was originally sold in 1930. In 1939, in order to keep it from the Germans, the car was put up on blocks and the wheels and tires were hidden. That is how Cerf found it. The odometer showed less than 60,000 miles, and the car was in exceptional shape for being neglected for so long. Wheels and tires were found for it and preparations were made to see if the engine would turn over. Amazingly, it started.
Once back in the USA, the car needed only a minor restoration limited to paint, chrome, nickel and upholstery. The radiator is in German silver and has never been protected with chrome or nickel. The engine still has not been opened. Only the upholstery was a challenge. The original material was impossible to find, so classic Peugeot upholstery of similar design was found and used. The repaint was done in the original colors—black, dark blue and French racing blue. This is a beautiful car. It sits low and has a commanding presence. The coachwork is by Henri Lamoyne and is just breathtaking for a car of the early 1930s. Technically, this car is impressive, with its inline, flathead-6, which provides very adequate power—15 CV for tax purposes, or 65 horsepower in real terms. The car looks fast, and it was surely able to cruise as quickly as nearly any other car of its time. From its decorated temperature gauge at the front and sculpted door handles, to the trunk hardware at the rear, the car displays its quality in its details. The huge 21-inch wheel covers are stunning and much more attractive than the wire spoke wheels. The interior is roomy and luxurious, with seats that are comfortable and wood trim that just looks warm. No detail was overlooked in the design of this car. The four metal tabs on the top of the hood meet when the hood is opened, ensuring there will be no scratches to the paint. The most unusual detail, though, has to be the shifter, which comes straight out of the dash and, according to a review in The Motor on April 29, 1930, looks like an “umbrella handle.” It is a car that impresses in every way.
Driving Impressions
A Tracta E was the first front-wheel-drive car the reviewer from The Motor had ever driven, and he was impressed with it. I’ve driven quite a few front-wheel-drive cars, although none quite as large as the Tracta. It was fun to read his impressions before I drove the car. The Tracta he drove, in 1930, was a roadster, but Gregoire intended all Tractas to be driven enthusiastically. His report says, “. . . with the passage of time we became bolder and, with a kind of reckless abandon, stamped heavily on the accelerator when we were approaching bends in the road at, say, 45 mph. The car simply went round—that’s all! There was no squealing of tires; no wrenching of the wheel to correct a skid. One merely steered as effortlessly as if one were driving a small car along a perfectly straight, smooth, hard-surfaced highway.” Rest assured, I did not stamp with reckless abandon on the accelerator when my turn to drive came, but it was a drive that left me smiling.
attractive hardware.
My first experience with the Tracta came the day before I was scheduled to drive it. I was looking at the car and talking with Alain Cerf’s son, Olivier, his daughter-in-law, Susan, and Andy Kinworthy, who is responsible for keeping all the cars in the collection running. When Alain arrived, we chatted for a few minutes as the others went back to their normal tasks. He asked me if I wanted to take a ride in the Tracta. Of course I did! So we jumped in and took off, not noticing that Kinworthy and Butch Mauer, who does all the paint and bodywork on the cars, were waving and shouting at us. Apparently, the car had just been moved out of the museum and fluid levels had not yet been checked. Oblivious, Alain and I headed out for a nice ride. Fortunately, the oil, water and fuel levels must have been fine, since we had no problems associated with fluids. Unfortunately, on the way back after a 15-or-so-minute drive, the car began to stutter and miss. Alain was able to nurse it back to the garage, where the problem was eventually traced to a bad condenser. A condenser for a 1930 Tracta is not something you can pop into the local NAPA store and pick up. Kinworthy had a variety of condensers on hand, but none with the correct bracket for the Tracta distributor. So, he made a new bracket that would mount on the distributor—that’s the kind of thing that has to be done to keep these cars on the road. And, his ingenuity made it possible for me to drive the car the next day.
The car is very easy to enter even though it is quite low—the door is wide and the seat is positioned so that the driver can enter without ducking or twisting. It is right-hand drive, so we “moderns” need to take a little time to adjust to using our left hand for many operations—dealing with the knobs and shifter, for example. The procedure for starting the car is to turn the fuel on, turn the switch to the left, pull out the choke, set the timing, and hit the start button. The car started immediately, even though the engine was cold. I was thinking about the review from The Motor as I pulled away from the museum onto the public roads. There weren’t a lot of “bends,” but I’d have some opportunities to make U-turns to see how stable the car was. Two things impressed me—the car took the U-turns, and every other turn, smoothly. It was very stable when cornering. The other thing was that it had a tight turning circle—a bit of a surprise with a car this size, and certainly not one of the typical characteristics of front-wheel-drive cars. The oddest thing about driving the car is the shifter, although it is possible that the fact that it came out of the center of the dashboard, rather than up from the floor, made it easier to adapt to. The shift pattern is familiar—the normal “H,” albeit in reverse and upside down—but shifting was anything but familiar. First gear is in toward the dash with the shifter turned to the left about 30 degrees. For second, you pull the shifter straight back, halfway to neutral, turn it back to the right, and pull it out the rest of the way. Third is straight in toward the dash from second. It was the shift to third that taught me not to wrap my fingers around the shift knob, since it goes nearly all the way to the dash surface. A sore knuckle reminded me how to position my fingers during subsequent shifts!
Driving the Tracta was a joy—well, except for the sore knuckle. The engine has plenty of torque, making the drive very pleasant since the car does not struggle from a stop or require a lot of shifting. The pedals are in the “normal” arrangement and are spaced nicely so that big feet don’t get tangled in them. Gauges are large and very readable, and you don’t have to look down to see the gas gauge—it’s on the hood, right outside the windshield. This was my first experience with a gauge of this type. It consists of two cylinders, the outer of which screws into place and has a gauge much like the temperature gauge on top, registering the fuel level in a calibrated glass tube. The inner cylinder floats inside the fixed cylinder causing a column of fluid to change in the calibrated tube according to the amount of fuel in the tank. Elegantly simple. Technically, the Tracta E was quite advanced for 1930. Aesthetically, it had few competitors. On the road, it must have been a car that made you smile. Driving it in 2014 certainly made me smile.
