MOTORING
Cavalcade—To 1905
The phrase is as senseless as Marathon. It meant and must still mean a company of riders on horseback, as Marathon is still the name of a place from which war news was once brought, and only once. Neither of them means a pageant nor a race ; one and the other have for years been used to distinguish a panorama of history and practically any contest in which speed is the decisive factor. Although they have both been misused and mis-timed to such an extent that they have come to mean—in the eyes of their users—any old sort of show watched by large numbers of persons, it may not be Marathon that you would choose to describe the show of historic motor- cars that will start next Sunday from Hyde Park on their uncertain way to Brighton Pier.
Yet the runner who bore the tidings of victory to Athens 24 centuries ago at a high average speed had one thing in common with the Old Respectables which will go roaring and rattling down to the sea in all their bravery of bicycle-wheels and driving chains, gay clouds of steam, voluntary and the reverse, oil-leaks, bells and pip-squeak horns—the chance of not getting there. And perhaps on that very account Sunday's show deserves that threadbare title more than any other. It is fairly certain to get it.
The Courage of 1894 and 1938 It is much more a pageant that will parade at the Powder Magazine before breakfast, a revival of motoring history ending in 1905. The oldest car entered is the 1894 German Daimler, forefather of the Mercedes• and, as it were, aunt of the English Daimler—though I am not prepared to argue the precise degree of kinship. The field includes Renaults, de Dions, Rileys and Lanchesters ; three-wheelers and steam-cars, which, incredible to relate and horrible to think of if not to see, used a pressure of 15o lb. Let him who fancies he is a brave man to drive a 1938 car at too miles an hour pause to consider the possibilities of those 15o lb. of steam pressure, and feel a little less vainglorious about his miraculous modern car when he sees this highly explosive machine still in one piece after forty years, and still going down to Brighton on Sundays. Forty Years On Are there lessons to be learnt from this cavalcade setting out to commemorate a forgotten liberation ? Lessons are dull stuff and it seems much more sensible to watch the show and cheer the Old Crocks (their now official name) as they go rollicking past. It may be their only annual outing, but the fact that they answer the roll-call at all after nearly half a century gives you grounds for hope that some of their descendants may uphold that shining tradition. Will the stars of 1938 be all present and correct in Hyde Park on a November Sunday in 198o ? Obviously you should take your camera with you to the Powder Magazine the day after tomorrow. Your grand- children will never forgive you if you don't.
The New 18 Wolseley The 1939 t8-h.p. Wolseley is an interesting car for more reasons than one. To begin with, it is very cheap ; the price of the saloon is -£325. That is as little money for the space and speed as I ever remember. For this much improved model will do at least 8o miles an hour on top and give you an all-in performance, acceleration, hill-climbing, flexibility and the rest, Which would certainly have cost double five years ago. It is quieter than last year's (known as the Police Car), faster and pleasanter to drive. It is better sprung and the engine runs more smoothly. The bodywork will carry five people with- out squeezing and with somewhere to put and shift their legs, feet and elbows. Plenty of cars today will admit five people in the strictest sense of the term, but only a few will allow them more than breathing space once they are in and the doors shut on them. The 1885 Wolseley really will accom- modate those five and find room for their reasonable amount of luggage. The back seat is 55 inches wide at elbow-height, with a minimum leg-length of 421 inches. A promising answer to America.
The 6-cylinder overhead-valve engine has a capacity of 2,300 c.c., which is very moderate for its performance. The tax is £13 los., the weight 29 cwt. The finish of both engine and body is quite excellent, the steering is light and steady, the brakes safe and the general feel of the car at all speeds confidential. I call it very good value for money, but I think it a thousand pities they don't fit it with some kind of all-. weather body. There is one for the police.
Itxassou At first sight it is no more than an ordinary Basque village on a river, such as is to be found anywhere along the western slope of the Pyrenees. It is a little beyond Cambo, perilously near Biarritz and St. Jean de Luz, halfway from these to St. Jean Pied de Port, which may almost be said to share the fate of Broadway in the Cotswold. Further, there is the Pas de Roland in the immediate neighbourhood, a gorge that is nearly as much photographed as Cheddar. The situation of Itxassou must seem precarious in the extreme. In the summer cars of all kinds stream through it, and of these no doubt a certain proportion stop to eat at the pleasant little inn ; but its insig- nificance has so far saved it from what has befallen other victims of tourisme.
It is altogether charming, mainly because nobody has attempted to make it so. It consists of a cluster of the usual whitewashed houses with the plain Basque roof—the longer- sloping eave facing the gales off the Bay of Biscay—but with little of the gay painting of the more sophisticated type near the Silver Coast. It is real, a place where people have always lived their ordinary lives. It would be quite useless for cinematograph purposes. The Nive at its feet is well stocked with trout, and salmon of fair weight are taken in good years. The inn has a wall on which you sit and watch river and road.
That is all you can say about Itxassou, which is why it is an oasis. The Pas de Roland, with its agreeable legend of Roland's rock-drilling charger, awaits your rare moment of boredom ; a little further off there is Sare, on the Spanish frontier, where uncountable pigeons, migrating from the Black Forest, cross the Pyrenees twice a year ' - and there is or used to be a show of cherry-blossom thereabouts which brought visitors, both native and foreign, as much as twenty miles behind a pair of horses. One should not complai of the cars whizzing through Itxassou at wicked speed. ' f they 'went slower they might stop and interfere with your view of the cherries, the trout, the pelota fronton, the Rhur,.: and other green Pyrenean foothills. Not twenty miles fro' Bayonne and on the now famous Route des Pyrenees, itsel Itxassou continues its charmed life. JOHN PRIOLEAU.
[Note.—Readers' requests for advice from our Motor' Correspondent on the choice of new cars should be accompan' by a stamped and addressed envelope. The highest price paya. must be given, as well as the type of body required. No adm; can be given on the purchase, sale or exchange of used cars.]
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