Mike Lawrence

In a recent letter to Vintage Racecar, David Carroll mentioned that he owns an HRG. Regardless of anything else, like what it might do to your dental fillings, the “Hurg” is one of the most elegant cars of the 1930s.  It also reminded me about what government decisions have done to cars. I don’t mean fallout from policy, like the Depression, and the present problems; I have in mind conscious decisions made by governments.

If you look at the production figures of specialist British car companies, like Allard, Dellow, Frazer Nash, HRG, and Lea-Francis, you will see that they slide from 1952, and the companies are all but gone within a couple of years. In most cases there was a final last-gasp attempt at survival which failed. AC would have gone as well, but a Tojeiro chassis and Allan Turner’s radical revision of Touring’s “barchetta” created the Ace.

From 1945 to 1951, the ruling party in Britain was Labour, which introduced a wide range of social reforms that had to be paid for. Its slogan was, “Export or Die,” and so, to buy a new car in Britain, you first had to obtain a permit which meant you had to prove a need. Until 1950, petrol was rationed and the ration allowed about 30 miles a week.  Then it came off ration, but the tax was doubled.

Former AC works driver, Peter Bolton, who died recently, drove a Standard Vanguard in the 1952 Monte Carlo Rally.  When I remarked that it would not have been the car I would have chosen, his reply was, “It was a car I could get my hands on, and I had a buyer lined up.” The showroom price of a Vanguard was around £850, if you had a permit. Peter sold his, slightly used, one international rally only, for nearly £2,000. In 1950, an astonishing 52 percent of all cars exported in the world were made in Britain.  This is not as simple a figure as it may seem, since American companies exported few cars, they being at full stretch to satisfy demand at home, while GM and Ford had overseas subsidiaries.

Until 1952, Britain was a seller’s market, anything with wheels and an engine would find a buyer. The new Conservative government lifted restrictions on the home market, which meant that anyone could stand in a long queue for a new car and people preferred a future Austin or Morris.  Production of all the small specialist makers nose-dived. Sydney Allard won the 1952 Monte Carlo Rally in an Allard, the only time that a major rally has been won by a driver in a car of his own manufacture, yet sales plummeted. Allard sold 337 cars in 1951, only 143 in 1952. On the other hand, new models came on stream and they changed motor sport. Until 1952, an HRG, say, could be used in races, hill climbs, rallies, trials, and auto tests, but with the freeing of the market, each category became more specialized and that saw outfits like Cooper, HWM, Lister, Lotus, and Tojeiro.  All sports cars were dual-purpose road/race vehicles; even out and out sports racers had to be road legal.

In 1951, the French government introduced a similar raft of social reforms to Britain and, to pay for it, introduced an employer tax. It came down to this: for every hundred francs you paid Pierre to work for you, you paid an additional 48 francs to the government. This wrecked car companies whose products were labor-intensive and destroyed much of the parallel coach-building industry, which had been among the best. Great names disappeared while some, like Hotchkiss, turned to making other things. Companies like Bugatti, Delage, Delahaye, Salmson, and Talbot had run out of ideas in the late 1930s.[pullquote]

“Some of the small French makers did amazing work in cutting weight and improving aerodynamics.”

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William Lyons and his lieutenants had done their patriotic duty during the war, watching for fires from the roof of a factory which would be re-named Jaguar, SS not being a great name in 1945. During these sessions they planned the XK engines (there was also a 2-liter “four” which was made, but did not reach production).  Their counterparts in Occupied France, where most of the French automotive industry was, were under tight restrictions. While the French taxation regime caused the end of some great names—to which add Gordini—it also promoted more efficient manufacture, while other taxation encouraged small-engined cars, and still does. French motor companies became significant exporters for the first time and, at Le Mans, the Index of Performance, the parallel handicap, took on special significance. It had been an integral part of the race since 1924, the second running, and, in the 1950s, carried equal prize money to an outright win.

With the Index of Performance being so important, and the French making cars with small engines, the 750-cc class at Le Mans became very important. Some of the small French makers did amazing work in cutting weight and improving aerodynamics. They performed better than their handicap and a DB-Panhard even won the 1954 Tourist Trophy, the only time a WSCC race has been decided on handicap. There were other government restrictions. The East German EMW team entered a race at Silverstone, but the French refused them permission to cross their country.

Then there were currency restrictions. After Le Mans 1957, Colin Chapman asked works Lotus driver, Keith Hall, to carry a bag home. Keith was innocent, so passed through customs, but had the bag been opened, he would have been hauled to the hoosegow.  As late as the early 1960s, when the Cooper team arrived home from a Grand Prix, John Cooper, Jack Brabham, and Bruce McLaren had to traipse around banks, changing the allowed limit of foreign currency into Sterling. Substitute Kimi, Felipe, and Luca. France’s taxation hurt for a time, but it did not prevent the emergence of Facel Vega and Alpine. Some great names were lost but, on the other hand, both the French and the British got pensions, unemployment benefits, and medical services.