Along with the factory came a stock of
spares and some part-built Lago Americas. Some say that the V8 couldn't
continue to be used because Lago hadn't paid BMW for those he'd previously
bought. This doesn't ring true, because there were still BMW motors at the
factory when all its surplus material was later sold to former Talbot racer
Georges Grignard. Others have suggested that Pigozzi wouldn't countenance use
of the German engine because he didn't want a 'foreign' power unit in one of
his cars. More likely is that the Simca chief saw no reason to encourage Lago
to use someone else's engine when he had a factory churning out his own V8s.
Why beat about the bush, just for a handful of cars?
Glazing
mostly Perspex
Thus was born the last of the Lago America
coupés, with its 2351cc ex-Ford flathead V8 and Pont-à-Mousson four-speeder – a
combination seen before in the Facel-bodied Ford Comète. The car was first
shown at the 1958 Paris Salon, a couple of months ahead of the inking-in of the
Simca purchase of Talbot at the end of December. Four examples were on the
Talbot stand, one still with sliding windows and the others with a taller
glasshouse and doors incorporating winding windows with quarter lights.
Cabin
design may be unique to this car
It is said that just one other car was
built, but club sources suggest that anything between six and nine may finally
have been assembled. All had left-hand drive, because they were built on
America chassis – so the Lago Sport appellation sometimes used is not strictly
speaking correct. With their completion, the marquee name was put into store,
possibly reserved for a future top of-the- range Simca. Pigozzi had no
particular incentive to keep the Talbot name going, and buyers were hardly
falling over each other in a rush to open their Cheque books: at Ffr2,300,000,
the car cost Ffr600,000 more than the previous year's BMW-powered Lago America
- or more than double the price of a Citroen DS.
The example owned by former Peugeot
engineer Pierre Béguin has chassis number six, and was finished by Grignard.
Your initial instinct is to think to hell with what's under the bonnet, because
the glassy lines, voluptuous rear wing line and hunkered-down, wheel
arch-filled stance look so right. At first glance they do, anyway. Then you
notice that the oversized windscreen arches somewhat awkwardly into the roof
and the flat-topped door frames look a bit homemade, while the grille seems
ham-fisted. But overall the steel body-still with some wood framing- is clean
and unornamented, just like the interior. This is simple and businesslike, with
a curved leather cloth-covered dash, an open glove-box and the auxiliary gauges
in one combination dial with the speedo – an arrangement that may be unique to
this car. The square transmission tunnel, flat floor and big sprung four-spoke
wheel together send out a message that's more high-class special than the work
of bespoke craftsmanship, an impression not leavened by the painted door cappings
and utilitarian carpet. An XK cockpit is far more seductive.
Other
gauges built into speedo
A brief run suggests that the cavils about
the Talbot's humble engine are largely just snobbery. I've always had a soft
spot for that friendly old flathead, and in 21/2-litre form with a bit of extra
vim from a pair of Zenith twin-chokes, the V8 burble is matched by a degree of
incision to the car's responses. The quoted output of 95bhp is hardly anemic,
in any case. The short-throw gearchange is click-click precise, well
synchronized and mated to a sweet clutch, while the brakes - with their big
finned drums-are nicely progressive and stop the car efficiently. Sitting close
to the wheel, which is on a long chromed column, you expect antique steering to
match, but the cam-and-peg mechanism is fluid, easy and certainly not heavy.
The suspension is well controlled without being bone-shakingly harsh; so long
journeys need not be a hardship.
and
Fuel filler cap
“I'm not bothered by it being
Simca-engined,” says Béguin. “I've done plenty of rallies in the car, and it
drives well. It's not particularly sporting, but it's comfortable, reasonably
quiet and handles well. There are no squeaks and rattles from the structure,
either - it's a well-built body."
EXP
code indicates oddity status
As the last gasp of d1e last survivor of
the traditional French prestige marques, there's a certain poignancy to
sampling the Talbot. The future in this sector of the market belonged - albeit
briefly – to Face! Vega, but one should bear in mind that at the 1958 Paris
show a manual HK500 cost Ffr3, 650,000. With that sort of price differential,
the Talbot – whatever its crudities doesn’t look to have been too bad a
proposition, for a well-heeled enthusiast determined not to go down the Jaguar
route
