Doug Nye: Motorsport's greatest '7' years

We have done this every winter since 1992 when a few of us sat down in Lord March’s office in Goodwood House, and discussed the broad possibilities for what became the inaugural Festival of Speed in ’93. Since then the ‘7’ years have always provided more than the usual degree of inspiration, as in 1997, 2007 and now 2017. You see, almost throughout motor sporting history, the ‘7’ years have included some of the most momentous landmarks of them all…

August 30^th, 1867 provides evidence of a pioneering match race being run over eight miles of public roads from Ashton-under-Lyne to Old Trafford, Manchester, between a pair of self-propelled road carriages, supposed winner being Isaac Watt Boulton’s steam locomotive. 

Two years later, in France, the promotions-minded proprietors of the cycling journal ‘La Vélocipède Illustré’ promoted a point-to-point, city-to-city road race for enthusiastic cyclists, from Paris to Rouen. I am quite proud to relate that the winner of this considerable event was an Englishman living in Paris, named James Moore. He saw off 324 rival riders, having wheeled away at his work for more than 10½ hours. His mount was a Surrey bicycle using the new-fangled ball bearings as patented that year by Jules Suriray, a Paris-based cycle mechanic. There was, it saddens me to add, an unfortunate postscript in that after the race, during the victory celebrations in a Rouen restaurant, James Moore’s bike – displayed outside draped in a Union Jack - was pinched… Ah well, Continentals, don’t you know…

Eighteen years later, in 1887, ‘La Vélocipède’s contemporary Editor, a leading sports journalist named Paul Faussier (or ‘Fossier’) decided to repeat the road race innovation for the latest new technology whose novelty was gripping Paris – the horseless carriage. He chose an undemanding course between Saint James in Paris along the Seine to the bridge at Neuilly. Gerald Rose – the first British motor racing historian whose wonderful book ‘A Record of Motor Racing’ was published in 1909, and whose son Nigel would fly RAF Spitfires from Westhampnett Aerodrome (site of today’s Goodwood Motor Circuit, of course) during the Battle of Britain – wrote that the Vélocipède race of April 20, 1887, “…cannot be considered a striking success. Only one car started, a little steam quadricycle driven by the Count Albert de Dion, who covered the short course in the environs of Paris at quite a good speed…. M. Fossier’s enterprise deserved a far better reward, and had the steam car constructors taken advantage of the opportunity offered them they would undoubtedly have been able to compete with greater success against the overwhelming progress of the petrol vehicle a few years later…”

But let’s hear it for M. Fossier/Faussier because he persevered, and in 1888 a second ‘La Vélocipède’-sponsored horseless-carriage race was run – this time from Neuilly to Versailles (20kms – 12.4 miles), and this time it attracted two starters; the Count de Dion winning again, this time in a three-wheeler, defeating a Serpollet – both steam-powered.

Leon Serpollet later demonstrated the effectiveness of his steam car by driving one from Paris to Lyons, and in 1991 Doriot and Rigoulot trundled a Peugeot from Paris to Brest in another well-publicised ‘long run’. But could such steam cars and the new-fangled internal-combustion tuf-tufs provide a genuine alternative to the horse and carriage? 

It fell to another press proprietor to promote automotive technology through competition. Pierre Giffard would become one of France’s most celebrated journalists and media moguls. In 1887 – coinciding with the Vélocipède’ ‘race’ -he was appointed dynamic Editor of the newspaper ‘Le Petit Journal’. Into the 1890s he also assumed Editorship of the sporting paper ‘Le Vélo’. Both were deeply committed to Le Sport. In 1891, Giffard launched the Paris-Brest-Paris cycle race– in 1892 a 380km (236-mile) foot race Paris-Belfort and then in 1894 his somewhat tentative but nonethless mass-entry competitive run for motor cars from Paris to Rouen. That event’s complex format was decidedly more rally than race, but on June 11-14, 1895 – the following year – both the first motor race to include petrol-engined cars and also the first long-distance motor race was run by a combination of the newly-formed Automobile Club de France and ‘Le Petit Journal’. 

Nobody can accuse those French pioneers of not thinking big. Their great race was no casual jaunt around the neighbourhood. In stark contrast it was run instead from Paris all the way down to Bordeaux on the Atlantic coast, and back again – 732 miles, no less. 

Of the 23 starters, eight petrol-burners and one steamer made it back to Paris. Fastest time was set by Emile Levassor who drove the whole distance in 48hrs 48mins, averaging 15.25mph. But wouldn’t you know it? There was an FIA Steward lying in wait – no, I made up the FIA bit – but officialdom disqualified the hero because his car was a two-seater, and the race rules demanded four seats to qualify for an award. So a driver named Koechlin took the honours instead, in his much slower Peugeot…four-seater.

The unfortunate Emile Levassor was an enormously keen protagonist in France’s early motor races, and he was leading by a clear two hours in the mighty Paris-Marseilles-Paris race of 1896 when - on the stage to Avignon - he ran into a stray dog near Orange. His high-built Panhard overturned and Levassor was dashed out of it against the road. He pluckily righted his car, and drove on to Avignon, but his colleague d’Hostingue then took over for the rest of the race. In fact, Levassor never really recovered from the head and thoracic impacts of that incident, and on April 14, 1897, after an apparent stroke, he died. 

A public subscription raised a lavish great monument in his memory, sculpted by Jules Dalou and Camille Lefevre which was unveiled at the Porte Maillot, Paris, ten years later – in 1907 – another of our ‘7’ years. Why the Porte Maillot? Because it had hosted the finish-line of that pioneering Paris-Bordeaux-Paris race which Levassor had clearly won – regardless of petty rules…

There had been no single great race in 1897, but by 1907 the Automobile Club de France had got into its stride with its great Grand Prix race, open to every and any interested manufacturer. 

The ACF announced its new Grand Prix rules in November 1906. This one-off event was to be occupy just one day – its 1906 predecessor had occupied two - and the Club’s sporting committee decided that the weight restriction which had limited Grand Prix cars in 1906 had served its purpose. So the weight limit was dropped, and replaced instead by a fuel consumption formula. Competing cars were to be allowed only 30 litres per 100kms (9.4 miles per gallon) – otherwise competing designers were allowed an absolutely free hand to achieve the biggest engine and the most power they could considering that strictly-supervised fuel allowance.

These 1907 GP regs were published before a circuit had been chosen. The ACF finally selected a triangle of roads on the Normandy coast, from Dieppe to Londinieres, Eu and back to Dieppe. Lap length was 76.9km (47.8 miles), and there were no hills to coast down. The 1907 Grand Prix was to be a case of hard driving from start to finish. To the dismay of the French motor industry – the world’s biggest and most diverse at that time – their great race was promptly won by FIAT of Italy, with driver Felice Nazzaro. The 1906 winner – Ferenc Szisz of Renault – finished second. At post-race scrutineering, Nazzaro’s FIAT had only 11.26 litres of fuel left in its tank. Szisz’s Renault, in contrast, had 30.25 litres. Had the race been just 20 miles longer, Szisz and Renault would probably have won. For the French that smarted. But all Italy celebrated, and La FIAT ruled the motoring world… 

By 1917 – one hundred years ago – both the European continent and the USA had other concerns. The Great War had raged into its fourth year, and Uncle Sam had weighed-in too.

On to 1927 – a new entirely artificial motor racing and test track was completed in the Eifel mountains, Germany. Encircling the prominent Schloss Nurburg on its rocky hill, the circuit had been built essentially as a measure to alleviate crushing local unemployment. They called it the Nurburgring… a truly imposing and majestic course upon which multiple motor racing legends would be written.

 That year of 1927 also saw the launch of the 1,000-mile – point-to-point, Brescia to Brescia – Mille Miglia race around the leg of Italy – the great canvas upon which yet greater motor racing legends were to be composed.

And in Grand Prix racing 1927 was the last season for a while in which properly ‘formulated’ capacity-class regulations would be applied – with a maximum engine capacity of 1.5-litres supercharged. The enduringly dominant Grand Prix car design of the day was the straight-eight Delage 1.5LS – the top-dog driver, Delage’s Robert Benoist. French blue reigned supreme.

By 1937 the motor racing scene had changed utterly. French blue had been swept into nonentity at Grand Prix level – although Bugatti still prevailed in sportscar competition. Italian rosso corsa played third fiddle. As the world had emerged from the Great Depression through the early 1930s, motor racing’s International governing body – the AIACR, predecessor of the post-WW2 FIA – had produced a Grand Prix Formula which was to run from 1934-36. It left engine capacity free while applying a maximum weight limit of 750kg on cars weighed without fluids and tyres. The notion was that high power meant huge and complex engines such as the U16 Bugattis and parallel-12 Alfa Romeo Tipo A which had formerly frightened the law makers. In fact with enthusiastic backing from Germany’s new Nazi Fuhrer Adolf Hitler – Mercedes-Benz and the new Auto Union combine invested hugely not only in commercial brand promotion but also in advancing national prestige through Grand Prix racing. 

They jointly achieved total dominance, 1934-36, and when a replacement Formula – hastily adopting minimum weight limits and capacity limits of 3-litres supercharged and 4½-litres unblown – was devised, 750kg racing was given one extra season, through 1937, to ease development of new cars.

That 1937 season promptly became the high-tide mark of Grand Prix racing speed and power – and indeed the dominant car of the year – the works Mercedes-Benz W125 – proved to be the most powerful Grand Prix car ever built until the advent of the turbocharged Formula 1 rocket ships of 1982…

By 1947, motor racing development had been placed on hold by World War 2. If you compare some of the cranky piston-engined, propeller-driven aircraft of 1937 with the Flash Gordon streamlined twin-jet machines of 1947 the effect of wartime R&D pressures is all too evident. Compare the cranky racing car designs of 1937 to those of 1947 and not a lot has changed, but never mind – if one seeks anniversaries to celebrate there was plenty new emerging that first full postwar racing season – not least 500cc ‘poor man’s motor racing’ single-seaters.

Come 1957 and we’re into yet another truly high-tide mark of motor racing development – the last year of alcohol-fuelled 500km or three-hour Grand Prix racing, and the last year of free-for-all engine limits in sportscar competition. While Formula 1 produced the ultimate ‘Lightweight’ Maserati 250F and my favourite magical Vanwalls – sportscar competition saw the 4.5-litre 4-cam V8 Maserati 450S battling for Championship honours with the 4.1-litre 4-cam V12 Ferrari 335S model. Yet again the rule-makers took fright by escalating power and speed, and while aviation gasoline requirements and maximum 300km/two-hour GP races were specified from 1958 forward, sportscar World Championship competition was struck down to a 3-litre capacity limit.

By 1967 we see yet another high-tide of development achieved, most notably in sportscar competition. That season saw the latest 7-litre honeycomb-structured (seat-belted!) Ford GT Mark IVs confronting high-winged 7-litre Chaparral-Chevrolet 2F V8s and 4-litre 36-valve 4-cam V12 Ferrari 330P4s. Formula 1 saw the extraordinary Dutch GP-winning debut race of the Lotus 49 powered by the Cosworth-Ford DFV V8 engine, and a new 15-year era of Grand Prix racing burst upon us. sportscar power and speed again made the rule makers take fright, and 3-litre racing engine/5-litre production engine endurance racing took over from 1968.

And so the great time machine has gone churning on – with our ‘7’ years continuing to provide great highlights. Motor sport today is a very different undertaking from that which prevailed in our forefathers’ time. The intensely commercialized, industrialised, homogenized game today is certainly immensely different from the character – and detail – of the motor sport played out upon our Goodwood Motor Circuit 1948-66. But it is immensely gratifying to see how much interest and enthusiasm survives today for “the way it used to be”, and for the accessible fun, fulfillment and enjoyment that this most majestic of mechanical competitions can provide.

You know, it’s almost worth reviving…

Images courtesy of The GP Library