Welcome to the Manoir de l’Automobile (“Manor of the Automobile”), a thoroughly entertaining place to spend a couple hours (or about three CC posts) in to appreciate a top quality and very varied collection of cars. The French stuff is extremely well-represented, as one might have guessed, but so are older models, as we shall see today, and classic sports/rally cars. Let’s get cracking with the older stuff first, shall we?
The exhibits were pretty clearly labelled, though I do take issue with a few of the placards’ accuracy. But if the info is apparently correct and entirely readable in the photo as in the examples above, I won’t bother re-typing everything.
Another De Dion-Bouton – back then, one of the most successful French firms, alongside Panhard, Peugeot and Renault. They started back in 1883 with steam-powered vehicles and quit making cars in 1932, but carried on with trucks and railcars until the early ‘50s.
“The Zebra”? But where are its stripes?
The legendary Renault AG taxi, which revolutionized the trade 120 years ago. Made between 1905 and 1912, these were used everywhere, from Paris and London to Buenos Aires and New York. Famously, the French Army requisitioned the entire Parisian fleet (about 1600 cars) in September 1914 to quickly ferry 6000 soldiers to the Marne river to arrest a German attack on Paris.
Renault put the radiator behind the engine on all their models from about 1903 to 1930. If nothing else, it made for a very distinctive look.
Panhard were among the true pioneers of the automobile, having made their first car in 1890. By the eve of the Great War, they were becoming specialized in larger cars. The 2.1 litre X19 was one of their cheaper models at the time.
Mathis was an up-and-coming marque in the ‘20s. The Strasbourg-based firm became France’s fourth-largest carmaker by 1929, but fell on hard times soon after and were bought out by Ford. This car is (I think) a 1924 model.
Speaking of Fords, I don’t know if these were assembled at the Ford plant in Bordeaux or Asnières, but that’s quite possible. The American carmaker was actively present in France until they sold their whole operation to Simca in late 1954.
We’re in the presence of automotive minor royalty with this 1922-23 Ballot chassis. It featured a 1950cc OHC 4-cyl. – quite advanced for its day. Ballot cars were reputed to be extremely well-built and won a number of races, but the firm was taken over by Hispano-Suiza in 1930.
Delage lasted a bit longer than Ballot, but were in the same higher-end category. This 2-litre chassis was one of the more affordable ones in Delage’s range, which featured 6- and 8-cyl. models as well – and a 2-litre DOHC V12 for their racers. Superb double phaeton coachwork on this car.
I have doubts about the blue car’s date (looks like a slightly later car), but both of these are Salmsons for sure. The diminutive VAL could be ordered in race trim with a 40 hp engine, featuring a DOHC head.
France was awash with tiny sports cars in the ‘20s. Among the better-made ones, Amilcar was the true rival of the Salmson. Cool Pegasus ornament, isn’t it?
The Ariès CC2 was another pocket rocket of the times. Its 1085cc OHV straight-4 made it a great performer, when minimally bodied. The firm had its day in the sun in the ‘20s, both with small cyclecars and larger models, but began to flounder soon after and was dissolved in 1938.
Morgan three-wheelers were built in France under license by Darmont from 1919 to 1939, using French engines, some of them made by Darmont themselves – which is precisely what this twin appears to be.
Another well-known French light car marque was Benjamin. This looks like a 1925 Type M4, which would make its 817cc engine a 3-cyl. – the sporty model. The company was restructured and renamed Benova in 1927 but went under by 1930.
The adorable 5HP, with its invincible 800cc 4-cyl., made Citroën a household name. These were made between 1922 and 1926, though – not 1921.
Peugeot also fielded a car in this segment – the Quadrillette. This is the updated version, with two-abreast seating, as the previous iteration was so narrow this was impossible.
With yet more creature comforts, the smallest Pug was then re-launched as the 5HP in 1926. Peugeot sold nearly 50k of these until 1929.
Not many foreign cars were to be found in France in the ‘20s, which might explain why there are so few in this collection. Still, a good ol’ 4-cyl. Chevy would have been an interesting proposition for the man of means at the time.
With the LaFayette, we’re talking proper luxury! If the date on this one is accurate, this would make it one of the first cars made under the stewardship of Charles Nash, who became president of LaFayette in 1921. Nash pretty much gutted the company; sales were halted by 1924. The name was resurrected a decade later as a junior companion brand for Nashes – a far cry from what LaFayettes once were.
The mid-sized Citroën C4 of the late ‘20s was one of the marque’s greatest hits. All-steel body, styled with a touch of American flair, cheaper than its rivals – it had a lot to offer.
Citroën sold over 120k units of these from 1928 to 1932 (including the more upmarket C6). Look at the Traction Avant next to it to get a sense of how great the leap was when those came out in 1934.
Like many carmakers at the time, Citroën sought to prove the worth of their wares by way of the racetrack. A regular 10HP chassis (very close to the C4 we just saw, but with an engine shrunk to less than 1500cc) was dressed with this minimal body and went around Montlhéry from 15 March to 17 July 1933. It travelled 300,000km and set over a 100 international records.
Tracta was the brainchild of J-A Grégoire, a proponent of front-wheel drive who designed his own CV-type joints. These were made almost in an artisanal fashion from 1926 to about 1934, using a variety of engines, including 6-cyl. by Continental and Hotchkiss or, in this case, S.C.A.P.’s 1.5 litre OHV four. You could order these with a supercharger.
Hotchkiss was the conservative choice for higher end French cars in the ‘30s, and as such did pretty well for themselves. Aside from the modestly streamlined styling, there was little to differentiate a 1930 model from a ’39 – same chassis, same engine.
The mid-sized Talbot 6-cyl. of the early ‘30s was the M75 model.
Circa 1929, the big craze was straight-8s. It seemed a dozen appeared almost overnight, including in the Talbot range. This particular one looks more like a 3.4 litre H75 Super Fulgur, made in 1934.
After the French side of Talbot was bought off by Antonio Lago, the cars became noticeably trendier and sportier-looking.
This museum had an impressive Peugeot collection – almost every “zero-in-the-middle” model was there up to the -04 series. So let’s take a look at the ones form the ‘30s here, starting with this adorable 201, the one that started this numbering system.
The slightly larger model was the 301, which got these trendy low-set headlights for MY 1935.
The 601 (1934-35) was Peugeot’s last 6-cyl. car of the prewar era. Not a huge hit, perhaps due to its rather lymphatic side-valve engine.
Clearly hewn from the 402 (itself clearly inspired by the Chrysler Airflow), the Peugeot 302 was a transitional model that was only in the range for 18 months (1937-38). It had a 1.8 litre engine providing a modest but sufficient 45hp.
The fabulous Éclipse, with its retractable metal top, was the glitziest model in the 402 range. Two were available: the manually-operated top or the power-operated one. Not sure which of the two this is, but it’s still gorgeous.
Those odd horn-looking things on the dash are heating ducts. They can be oriented toward the cabin or toward the windscreen.
Last but not least, the little 202, which joined the Peugeot range in 1938 and was the only model to survive the war, being made until 1949.
Technically, this Traction Avant is a postwar car. But come on, it’s as prewar a design as anything. This is the smaller (as in narrower and shorter) 4-cyl. 11CV model, made from 1934 to 1957…
…and this would be the wider and longer 15-Six model, with a 2.9 litre 6-cyl., launched in 1938 and made until 1956. Still, by combining FWD, monocoque construction, hydraulic brakes and an OHV engine, the Traction only looked dated by the ‘50s. It was, in fact, still way ahead of the game.
Kinda random to encounter an unrestored Adler 2,5 Liter Typ 10, isn’t it? Very strange headlight arrangement on this particular one.
Sublime Panhard Panoramic coupé, with those little A-pillar windows. This 2.8 litre CS model was, believe it or not, the smaller of the range. The 4-litre 6DS and the huge 5-litre 8DS (with a straight-8) were also available. All Panhard engines in those days used the Knight “valveless” patent. This particular one was the property of actress and singer Mistinguett.
The small Horch in 1935 was the 830 B, with its 3.2 litre V8. Way to set the bar! But then, this marque was part of the Auto-Union consortium, so it should be seen in context with Audis, DKWs and Wanderers.
The straight-8 Reinastella, on the other hand, was the largest model in Renault’s range. This is a 1932 model with factory coachwork. French presidents usually rode in top-of-the-range Renaults like this from 1920 to 1950.
Since we’re moving toward the automotive stratosphere, let’s hit a Rolls or (Phantom) two. Always impressive, these giant rollers.
Even more impressive: the Phantom III (1936-40), featuring Rolls-Royce’s only in-house-engineered V12 for automotive use. Only 727 chassis made, all with the “Kneeling Lady” mascot.
The Packard 120 might not be quite up to Rolls-Royce standards, but it was no small fry. Could we do better though? I think we could.
That’s more like it! Gargantuan machines, these Twelves. Only a handful of chassis could really best it.
Yes, that’s one of that handful. Cadillac reverted to a flathead design for the second generation Sixteens (1938-40) – costs had to be kept in check somehow. Still, this is the ultimate plutocratmobile. We are not worthy.
Again, this is strictly-speaking a postwar car, but actually the Delahaye 135 chassis was born in 1935. Lovely coupé body by Chapron, with interior to match.
There were a lot of other vehicles in the museum: a massive collection of horsedrawn carriages (which I did not document), trucks (we’ll see those tomorrow), a few military and amphibious vehicles and, as we can see here, loads of motorbikes.
I didn’t photograph more than a handful – there were just too many. This is a 1938 Terrot, by the way.
This Belgian-made Saroléa also looks pretty prewar to me. Could use a headlamp, too…
When a brand name comes to be used as a noun, you know you’ve made it big. Frigidaire, aspirin, thermos – those have entered the vernacular completely. And so did, in French, the Mobylette. Launched in 1949, these 50cc mopeds were made under that name until 1997 (this is a very early example, of course). To the present day, the term “mobylette,” often shortened to “mob” is used in French to describe a moped, the proper/older term being “motocyclette.”
A few military and amphibious vehicles to see us off, then. The first home-grown Soviet 4×4 that was produced in great numbers (over 90k units), the GAZ-67 was made between 1943 and 1953. If this one has a 54hp engine, it’s the ameliorated and slightly more powerful 67-B, made from 1944 onward.
Cool Jeep and all, but can we discuss the spelling of the name “Willys”?
Wow, what a great survivor! Ford built about 13,000 of these amphibious Jeeps in 1942-43, and only about 200 remain today. It wasn’t a very effective solution, neither really good at being a car or a boat. Quite a few were gutted during the war by the US Army to repair standard Jeeps, as the axles, engine and transmission were identical.
I’m not 100% sure about this one, but it seems to have been a Salmson chassis turned into an electric amphibious vehicle by some guy during the war. According to the placard, he planned to use it to visit his fiancée, who lived on the other side of the Seine, in case all the bridges were blown out. Very weird.
Weirder still is this aluminium-bodied amphibious car, one of the last mind-boggling creations of the legendary Gabriel Voisin. Power is courtesy of a Panhard twin, which can be sent to the front wheels, the rear ones or both together, or to the propeller via a chain drive. The way to use the double steering wheel: use both together on the road for the front wheels, then lock the one nearest the dash when in the water and use the one nearest the driver to actuate the rudder.
The oddballs just keep on coming with the 1942 Hydromobile. Apparently, there is a Ford V8 in there somewhere, but if it is a Ford, I don’t see how it could be a 4.7 litre. The rest was made out of aircraft parts, apparently. And a “Super Deluxe” steering wheel that looks very Detroit. Rear seating looks positively regal.
Completely different approach with the 1983 TAG Croco (CROss COuntry), built in Switzerland. This one has an NSU rotary engine, but some used Renault power.
Poncin made a variety of innovative AWD and amphibious vehicles with GRP bodies. Four, six- or eight-wheelers, the amphibious Poncins were powered by a Citroën flat-twin and had some success in their day, i.e. between 1981 and 1993, when production stopped.
The Hobbycar almost made it as the Amphicar’s real successor. Launched in 1993, it used a mid-mounted Peugeot Diesel engine to either motivate all four wheels, or a hydrojet. Unfortunately, the transfer case was weak, the engine would overheat and the electrics glitched. And these cost a bundle. About 60 were made before the company folded in 1995.
We’ll end this post on a somewhat martial note with the Panhard VBL (Véhicule Blindé Léger or light armoured vehicle), on of the 2600 units manufactured from 1985 to 2010. The engine in this ‘90s model is the trusted Peugeot XD3T turbo-Diesel – the same you could have found in the 604 or the 505.
See you tomorrow for part two, which will be dedicated to postwar imports and a few French trucks. Lots of Italian stuff…



















































































































The Adler 2,5 Liter Type 10 reminds me of a Chrysler Airflow.
The plaque in front of the car states 1937 which is in line with Chrysler.
Looking forward to Part II or III which reflects the 60’s thru 80’s.
Some very neat French designs during this period.
Wow, some great cars I’ve never seen and great little details on them. My favorite in this bunch is the Delahaye 135M, beautiful!
The little Aries is interesting, that quarter elliptic front end looks very lightly built for going 105 km/hr.
Thank you for this tour – like Doug wrote above, there’s a whole lot of material here that is completely new to me.
A standout here for me is that 1935 Panhard Panoramic coupe with those A-pillar windows. Come to think of it, some modern cars could benefit from A-pillar windows. The Adler is also fascinating.
It’s particularly fun to look at the two-tone color combinations. That yellow-and-green Talbot Fulgur wins the prize for originality. The cream-and-red 1939 Talbot T15 looks great too. I remember my parents’ former house (also built in 1939) had kitchen cabinets painted in the same cream-and-red combination.
Judging by the vehicles in the background of these shots, I’m looking forward to Parts 2 and 3.
Very eclectic collection, most are obscure to Americans. They spelt Willys exactly like it’s pronounced.
Love this! The vehicles that we did not see in the U.S. that you have explained so nicely to us. Okay, a few American cars in there. However, it is the variety of mostly French automobiles that I am enjoying. I have seen the Eclipse many times and always enjoy seeing a fine example of this advanced car.
It’s interesting that two of the American cars have French names, Chevrolet and LaFayette. As for Willys, I know the name is neither plural nor possessive, so should be pronounced “Willis”, but I’ve always heard and said “Willy’s”. There are some amazing cars here. One man’s meat is another man’s poison; my favorite here is the amphibious Voisin. (Yeah, I know that’s not how the name is pronounced in French)
What about Cadillac?
A classic overload!
It’s amazing to realize how many carmakers there were in France prior to the second world war. Not surprisingly, there were ‘the usual suspects’, as well as some I’d never heard of. But all in such lovely condition. Well except for that Adler.
Amazing also to see how all-embracing the Renault range used to be – that Reinastella, for instance.
What an amazing collection. That 1942 Hydromobile is just wild. Vehicles such as the Tracta were miles ahead in technology but mostly forgotten today.
Very good collection, especially all those obscure amphibians. I’ve got a thing for those very early Bollee tricycles.
My lord, what a feast. Do like a good flashy French ’30’s job. Never knew before of the Benjamin or the Darmont-Morgan, with the wee teton-dagmars.
Here’s trivia. My grandfather owned an Amilcar, just like the one pictured, but with a dowdy sedan body. Now, why on earth the Irish-descended Australian fellow owned an obscure little French number is lost to history, but it’s known the republican had disdain for English cars (and never owned one, unusual here then). Perhaps the choice was nothing else? What my mum remembered is that the tiny-engined voiturette failed them on very steep hills, and they’d be out walking and pushing on the worst of them.
Isn’t it remarkable how quickly the speeds rose out of all proportion to the safety that cars could offer? These signs in the museum bring it up vividly. Someone born in, say, 1890, saw moving-about speeds go from walking pace (or at best, horse-speed) to 70+ km/h by the time he was 40, a remarkable change not at all commensurate with the roads, signage, nor the brakes and suspensions of the machines doing it. Scary stuff.
Very impressive museum, standout for me is the Peugeot Eclipse. Having the headlights behind the grille on their Airflow inspired models was a huge improvement in appearance compared to the Chrysler.
your photographs are marvelous. In Particular, the Terrot motorcycle one. it almost looks like a photorealistic painting instead of a photograph. Love it. This museum building is equally interesting. The timber framed area with Cadillacs in it almost appears to have some open air sections. well done.
Decades ago I had a French magazine called “La Vie Automobile” (if memory serves). It described two-wheeled vehicles as: “Vélocipèdes” or “bicyclettes”, “vélo-moteurs”, “cyclo-moteurs”, “motocyclettes” and “motocycles”. Was the “Mobillette” classified as a “cyclo-moteur” or a “motocyclette”?