Robert C. digs beneath its confused history to unearth
a gem from Bugatti’s period of greatest elegance
Bugatti was all over the place come the end of the 1920s,
producing a mishmash of exotic and massively expensive motor cars. The
ludicrously huge 12,763cc Type 41, known as the Royale, was a flop: Ettore
Bugatti managed to shift only three examples to buyers who had sufficient ego.
Tellingly, royalty and heads of state politely demurred.
Yet the superb 2.3 liter straight eight Type 43 Grand Sport
introduced in 1927 sold 158 examples and the much more successful Type 44 saw
about 1000 chassis constructed, many sent to coachbuilders for formal
coachwork. Then there was the pair of Type 45/47 prototypes with their U16
engines at least the Type 45 won the Klausenrennen in 1930. The 5.3 liter Type
46 was no race victor and, come the 1929 Wall Street Crash, Bugatti diverted
into building the Autorail Automotrice Rapide rail car for the ETAT railway
company. Ironically, this large order probably saved Bugatti during the Great
Depression.
Ettore's eldest son Gianroberto Carlo Rembrandt Bugatti,
known as Jean, was not as talented as his father when it came to artistic
creativity, but he was certainly an equally talented engineer. He is recognized
as saving the family firm with the Type 57, regarded as one of the marque's
best models, but died in a car crash on 11 August 1939 behind the wheel of the
Le Mans-winning Bugatti, aged only 30. He is credited with the marque's
victories at La Sarthe in 1937 and 1939, and some say the Bugatti era died with
him.
Until 1932, the marque had been constructing seven different
models an almost Lancia-esque complication of production engineering. The
economic crash led to decreased orders and the bank loans were becoming
tighter. Jean Bugatti's answer was the Type 57, launched at the 1934 Paris
motor show. The plan was for various specifications: Type 57; 57S, the S for
surbaissé or lowered chassis; 57C denoting compressor; and 57SC for a car with
both.
The factory offered various coachwork options, too. Stelvio
was a two-door, four-seat drophead; Aravis, a two-door, two-seat drophead coupé;
Galibier, a four-seat, four-door saloon; Ventoux, a four-seat, two-door coupé;
and Atalante, a two-seat, two-door coupé, also available with a soft-roll top.
Under Jean's influence, Molsheim managed to modernize its
production programme and take on the might of Delahaye, Delage, Mercedes-Benz
and Rolls-Royce. The Type 57 was the first 'grown-up', mature Bugatti - a
sophisticated and fast road tourer, not a thinly disguised racing car - but nor
was it a chauffeur-driven limousine, typified by the Royale or Type 46. Perhaps
the first example of an “owner driver” automobile like the Derby Bentley
Sportsman saloon? The thinking behind the Type 57 was that the owner could take
advantage of France's fast and open roads, and enjoy such drives as Paris to Monaco
in 12 hours.
The Type 57 engine is a robust 3.3-litre straight eight,
with gear-drive double overhead camshafts fed by a Stromberg carb. Its gearbox
is mounted rigidly to the motor. Forward thinking Jean had developed an
independent front suspension for the Type 57, nicknamed the Crème de Menthe.
When Ettore heard of this he was apparently furious because it veered too far
from his design principles. Consequently, while exhaustively tested on the Type
57A prototype, the set-up was discontinued in favor of the less effective
although beautifully shaped solid front axle. The old artist trumped the young
engineer...
Some 550 examples of the Type 57 were sold from 1934, and in
1936 the first Type 57C prototype was developed. The car pictured here is that
very machine, chassis number 57452. But, as is often the case, the story is
slightly more convoluted and thus intriguing.
During September 1936, in the weeks leading up to the Paris
show, the Molsheim works were particularly busy. A Sport 57S was to be making
its first appearance at the event as both a roadster and coupé, along with
three Ventoux models, one fitted with a supercharged Type 57C-spec engine. The
Registre des Carrosseries indicates that the prototype 57C and the first SC
left the coachbuilder on 3 October 1936, chassis number 57452 finished in red
(Retail Red!) with tobacco leather interior. Chassis number 57453 was painted
black and had fabric trim.
The paint and
chassis number may have ‘issues’, and several details under the bonnet and in
the cabin need addressing but this is one very special Bugatti.
The next day, Bugatti test driver and French Grand Prix
winner Jules Goux drove the red Ventoux with engine number 1C to the Bugatti
showrooms at 46 Avenue Montaigne in Paris, accompanied by Jean Bugatti in the
57SC. The cars were prepared for demonstration work for the weeks ahead. They
would be driven by Bugatti and the man who ran the showrooms, Grand Prix winner
Robert Benoist, who was later executed for being part of the British Special
Operations Executive and French Resistance in World War Two.
After the Paris motor show, the Ventoux stayed on at the
showrooms as a demonstrator. Externally it resembled a standard four-seat
coupé, but its prototype supercharged engine upped the standard 57's output of
135bhp to some 175bhp. Benoist and test driver Pierre Veyron (also a racing
driver, engineer and war hero) continued to drive the Ventoux around Paris, and
records show that in spring 1937 the car was renumbered as chassis 57308 and
given the registration 4834 NV3. It was not the only Bugatti to boast this
registration.
In October 1936 the Ventoux was sold to its first owner, the
young Compte Aymar de La Rochefoucauld, wearing number 6196 NV3. The Bugatti
appears to have remained in Paris, at Place des Vosges, until 1955. In 1961 it
went to Suresnes, the location of Hispano-Suiza and Bugatti specialist Garage
de Gaston Carino, and from there it was traced to Belgium. In 1973 the Ventoux
was sent to Bugatti specialist Lucien Wurmser in Molsheim for restoration. By
now, it was painted two-tone green.
1936 Bugatti Type 57 Ventoux
§
Engine 3257cc straight eight, DOHC, single Stromberg
updraft carburettor
§
Power 135bhp @ 5000rpm
§
Torque 1501b ft @3500rpm
§
Transmission Four-speed manual, rear-wheel drive
§
Steering Worm and wheel
§
Suspension Front: beam axle, semi-elliptic leaf springs,
De Ram dampers. Rear: live axle, reversed quarter elliptic leaf springs, De
Ram dampers
§
Brakes Cable-operated drums
§
Weight 1750kg
§
Performance Top speed 105mph. 0-60mph 13sec
|
By 1977 the chassis had been over-stamped with the incorrect
number 57557, which is for an Atalante that resides in the US, and the Bugatti
was to lose its original dash, firewall and supercharger. However, a November
2011 inspection by the Artcurial auction team unearthed some encouraging
evidence. (And it's interesting to note that the sales catalogue for the
Rétromobile auction at which this 57 will appear on 8 February).
The bonnet is stamped with number 26, which indicates the
body was built around 1936. Importantly, the rear axle carries number 334 as
does the gearbox, which also has Cl etched on its cover. In addition, the left
rear side of the engine is stamped number 1 and, although the chassis
incorrectly reads 57557, the numbers 308 are visible underneath. Bugatti
records indicate the modification of the car to a 57C with engine number 1 and that
the car carried chassis plate 57452 and then 57308. A riddle wrapped in an
enigma inside a mystery?
Bugatti historian and author Julius Kruta says: 'This
Ventoux is fascinating, and it is an important car. It appears to have a very
interesting history, even if the over-stamped numbers might not appeal to some
collectors. The green paint is not original and the correct dashboard needs to
be refitted, while it is a pity it lost its blower so recently. It is well
recorded in the books as car number 57452/57308.'
He ponders from an historian's viewpoint: 'The big question
is, should you restore it or leave it as is? I rate this Bugatti highly,
especially if it is returned to its original monotone color and a supercharger
is refitted.'
Kermit the Frog green paintwork aside, this is indeed a
lovely, paginated and attractive car. And the provenance of it being the first
prototype supercharged Type 57C as driven by most of the Bugatti greats really
adds to the mystique. Drivers Robert Benoist and Pierre Veyron were not only
Grand Prix winners; they were war heroes, too.
On this freezing December evening, we are in Paris with the
vintage Bugatti. Georges Haussmann's magnificent city scape takes on a
spectacular presence once the commuter traffic has died down, the orange lights
are lit and the wide boulevards are quiet. And we are not in just any old part
of Paris. Mais none, we are on the grand Avenue Montaigne, off the
Champs-Elysees in the swanky 8th Arrondissement. This is the veritable home of
Bugatti; the marque's showrooms were located at number 46 in the 1930s. And we
are here to drive the Ventoux.
The Bugatti looks mellow, but is straight and solid. Its
paintwork has aged, and opening the suicide door reveals the deliciously
aromatic tobacco hide trim set off by the light-colored dash, Jaeger
instruments and high-mounted, wood-rimmed, four-spoke steering wheel. The
seating is sit up and beg, and that big wheel is close. After sliding the
protruding ignition lever to retard, upping the revs on the idle lever a tad,
and twisting then pushing the central starter key, a deep, slow whirr emanates
from under the floorboards as the starter motor engages and then ignites the
engine. It lives!
The wet-sump and no-longer-supercharged 3.3-litre engine
needs a moment to warm through, then settles to a contented idle. The
short-travel clutch is shoved down to the carpet and, with a huge swing from
left to right, the long, mid-mounted shifter is encouraged to find first. That
slow-revving engine has enough torque to move the Ventoux off the line without
protest, and as the revs rise the growl does, too. Don't rush the changes: with
familiarization gears can be selected promptly without the need for a double declutch
on the way up, at least.
Being an early Type 57, this example has the gearbox solidly
mounted to the engine and does without the later damped mounts. Consequently,
you can feel the straight-eight's vitality fizzing through the chassis, up
through your feet and into your fingers via the wheel.
No, I am not going to pretend to do a speedy trial around
the Place Vendome, nor do we get the car fully sideways around Place de la
Concorde. However, motoring brusquely along Quai des Tuileries, the Bugatti's
thoroughbred nature quickly becomes apparent. With plenty of power, superb
steering and a balanced chassis, we're soon threading through the capital at
speed and with confidence. The only caveat is the cable-operated brakes, which
pull all over the place and don't really do much at all. But that can be
rectified by proper adjustment or an upgrade to a Type 57C hydraulic system,
which has proved to be superb on previously driven Bugattis of this ilk.
Headlights illuminating the cobbled boulevards ahead; then
roaring through the tunnels of Paris next to the majestic Seine; the
aristocratic bark of the eight-cylinder, Grand Prix-proven engine... this
Bugatti experience is special indeed. The car's sharpness belies its vintage
and it behaves impeccably. With the comfortable interior cosying up nicely, the
engine lugs contentedly until the roads clear, then it's down with the curious
little roller throttle pedal. The Ventoux reacts like a frisky colt! To imagine
Bugatti, Benoist, Goux and Veyron blasting through 1930s late-night Paris on
the eve of World War Two just adds to the enigma of this Type 57 - and to hell
with the chassis numbers!