Lancia’s reputation for making extremely advanced and unconventional cars was well established even in the marque’s early years. If one model really stood above the rest in terms of sophistication, it would have to be the Lambda: not only did it represent a significant leap forward compared to Lancias that preceded it, it was arguably the most advanced automobile of the 1920s.
From the vantage point of the 2020s, it can be difficult for the casual observer to appreciate the Lambda’s revolutionary design. Some cars of the period did look more cutting edge, like the Rumpler Tropfenwagen or the Burney Streamline, but the Lambda was far more consequential and sold in much larger numbers. It may look like a fairly conventional ‘20s car to our eyes, but when it was launched, back in 1922, even its appearance was out of the ordinary.
For context, let’s compare and contrast the Lambda with the 1919-25 Fiat 505 above – similar segment, same country of origin and body style. Most European 2-litre cars of the era would have looked like this. But the Lancia was noticeably more svelte, with a much lower beltline and lacked the quarter-elliptic springs that poked out the front end. Generally, it looked like it was styled cohesively and from a clean sheet.
But the Lambda’s truly revolutionary nature did not just lay in its appearance. It cumulated an impressive number of innovations into one extremely well-built package. Brakes on all four wheels, a narrow overhead cam V4 (13-14°, depending on the weather series), sliding pillar semi-independent front suspension and, for the first time on a car, unit body construction.
Having just one of these features on a 1922 car would have been noteworthy enough, but all of it wrapped in a distinctive and pretty large body – quite a bit larger than the usual early ‘20s two-litre cars, anyway.
The unit body was the real show-stopper. Vincenzo Lancia had been working on this concept since 1918, with the view that combining the chassis and the body would result in a far stronger and lighter car, which could also be lower without sacrificing interior room. A real genius idea, well ahead of its time.
Open cars were still the more popular body style, so the basic unit body was designed that way. Closed bodies were fashioned using the same base, but with a Weymann hard top (fabric over a wood frame) over the steel body. From series VI (MY 1926) onwards, the Lambda was available either in standard or long wheelbase form – the latter being a gargantuan 3420mm (134.5 in.), compared to 3100mm (122 in.) for the standard wheelbase cars.
Our Series VII Lambda is a factory-bodied standard wheelbase phaeton (or tourer, in British English), then a very popular way to dress cars. This windowless four-door open body style was known in Italian (and French) as “torpedo.”
The Series VII (July 1926 – March 1928) brought about a significant change to the narrow V4, which grew from 2120cc to 2375cc. This increase in displacement, coupled with a host of other modifications, meant the output changed from 49hp to 60hp, enabling the Lambda, at least in standard wheelbase “torpedo” form, to be able to reach speeds approaching 120kph (75mph). Sure, it was no Duesenberg, but it was a lot faster than anything in its class. Later Lambdas made after Series VII had a 2569cc engine good for 69hp.
The sense of modernity extends to the interior and the controls. When peering into a centenarian automobile, one is usually filled with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Which pedal might slow this thing down? What are all those knobs on the steering wheel? Where do I plug my smartphone? There is a little bit of that in here, but by and large, it’s a lot less foreign and more ergonomic than a Model T or a Bentley. The gear lever and handbrake are where you’d expect them to be, the switchgear seems minimal and the pedals are in the correct order. And that steering wheel is a stunningly steampunk piece of industrial design, isn’t it?
In an effort to seduce a wider clientele, Lancia proposed the Lambda as a chassis-only starting with the Series VII – four years into the car’s production run. So most coachbuilt Lambdas, and there were a few, typically date from the later ‘20s. Here are a few Italian ones: a limousine by Bertone (top left), a Touring limousine de ville (top right), a four-door cabriolet by Moderna (middle right), a coupé de ville by Montescani (middle left) and, in the bottom row, a cabriolet and a sports phaeton both made by Stabilimenti Farina.
Lancia exported the Lambda far and wide – these interesting foreign-bodied ones can attest to that. The one at top left was modified to advertise Electrolux vacuum cleaners in the Netherlands; next to it is a very classical French berline by de Villars. A two-door convertible saloon by Carrosserie Gangloff was made in Geneva in 1928 (middle left). The Austrian coachbuilder Armbruster authored this cabriolet with outsized headlamps in 1929 (middle right). Finally, two English entrants: a sporty convertible coupé by Salmons (bottom right) and a completely mad “Airway saloon” by Albany (bottom left) that is still with us.
Lambda production was brought to a close a the end of MY 1931. Strangely enough, Lancia replaced it with two models: the 1.9 litre 4-cyl. Artena and the 2.6 litre V8 Astura. Even stranger, neither of these models featured unit body construction. Instead, Lancia went back to the separate chassis for this segment and introduced the 1.2 litre Augusta which did have the Lambda’s monocoque – and was a great success. As was the Lambda: about 12,000 were made in nine years, which made it a huge hit for its time and its maker.
In the ‘20s, you probably couldn’t get a better 2-litre car than this Lambda. A hundred or so years hence, it’s not as easy to make out how incredibly advanced it was, but it still has a perceptible touch of Art-Deco futurism that hints at its modernity. In the ‘30s, other carmakers would take on the mantle of automotive pioneer – Citroën, Tatra and Cord come to mind. In the Roaring Twenties, the one that was ahead of the pack was Lancia.
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I’m astounded by the breadth and depth of the cars seen in these posts from Japan. It’s clear that aficionados there are knowledgeable and sophisticated, with very deep pockets as well. Very interesting Lancia, like to see a pic of that V4.
Not the first unibody car Tatra, Vauxhall did that in 1903, Lancia was a distant 2nd.
Highly debatable. How many of those Vauxhalls were made? Lancia’s unit body was patented and made in thousands of examples.
84. That’s not small beer in 1903-4. Vauxpedia article in link is a rather interesting. It credits Special Interest Autos from ’73 as naming the Vauxhall the first unibody car.
http://vauxpedianet.uk2sitebuilder.com/vauxhall-5hp-6hp—light-car
Thanks for the great in-depth write up on this Lancia La la la la la Lambda (sorry Ritchie Valens). What I found most interesting is the steering wheel and spokes appear to be made entirely of brass sans wood or leather wrap. That alone makes it the most antimicrobial steering wheel I’ve ever seen. Maybe that was common in the 20’s but I don’t recall ever seeing one until today. The unique deep bright green with black accent color combination is one of my favorites and has a presence. That along with its gigantic yet proportionate design is a sight to behold today even among all the SUV’s. With a wheelbase as long as a Model T this must have made an unforgettable impression back then. As you mentioned for decades Lancia was a leader in implementing state of the art technologies in production cars. Every article I read about them seems to mention at least one or two technologies that put them years ahead of the competition. I wonder if they suffered the same problems as Jaguar has in the past in that they stuffed so much new tech into each car yet they did not take the time to work out the gremlins.
Nevertheless it is a great example of art deco.
As far as I understand it, Lancias were considered very reliable, even tough, machines. Lambdas were popular in Australia with well-off country folk for use on endlessly rough dirt roads. They may look spindly, a touch delicate, but are apparently most robust, bodily and mechanically.
Unlike Jags, they were very pricey cars, and when they did break, parts were commensurately expensive, and knowledge of such exotic things as narrow-angle V-engines scarce.
A minor detail – there is nothing “semi” about sliding pillar suspension, it is independent.
I guess it depends what you mean by independent. To me, by definition, the fact that there remains a front axle means it cannot be termed as fully independent. Kind of like the De Dion system for RWD cars.
Not really an axle – just a transverse chassis member, that cannot move relative to the rest of the chassis. A De Dion tube is supposed to move relative to the chassis. Look at the sliding pillars on a pre-war Morgan three-wheeler and see if you can spot an axle. Suspension is independent if the vertical movement of one wheel doesn’t directly affect the camber of the other wheel.
Thank you so much for this. A pleasant, informative and well-illustrated story of a storied make in its formative years ? The bonus for me is the inclusion of bodies by various old names long forgotten: Gangloff, Montesconti, as well as the more familiar Bertone and Farina, both leading the way toward simple elegance. The view of the naked monocoque is worth all the rest . . .
+1 to that last sentence!
“Strangely enough, Lancia replaced it with two models: the 1.9 litre 4-cyl. Artena and the 2.6 litre V8 Astura. Even stranger, neither of these models featured unit body construction.”
That made me think about what other companies did the same thing and replaced an unibody model with a body-on-frame car. The first thing that comes to my mind is Ford in the 60s and 70s (’67 Thunderbird, ’70 Continental, ’72 Torino & co., ’74 Cougar), but maybe there are more?
Wow – what a find and what a car!
To see this, and then to see Lancia now…..-:(
Oh, but they’re reviving it, don’t you know? Yeah, that’ll work.
Pity that the bastards left it to wither so long that only a collection of fast-aging car nuts even know the brand today.
Despite the best efforts of the FranglishItalo coachies, the standard factory Lambda, like this one, remains the best-looker. It’s really hard to say quite why they are so elegant, yet they stand out in a collection of ’20’s cars: you notice them. Truly a most covetable object.
As for the engineering, well! I quite agree with Stephen Ritchings (above). That naked monocoque, with the sheet raised like the final reveal in a striptease, is quite the thing.
In fact, think I need a short lie-down.
I believe the reason the bigger Lancias were frame-built was due to the preference for coachbuilt bodies at the higher echelons of the market. It meant they had to offer two Lambdas, one unit and the other semi-monocoque and that was inefficient.
The lovely Augusta I believe used Budd patents as it was a relatively ‘affordable’ Lancia.
Lancias had a reputation for excellent quality (hard to believe!) and were very expensive.
It all seemed to go wrong with the move towards mass-production during the Pesenti years.