Let Georges Do It

At first glance you might think this is a Morgan Plus Four. The resemblance is such that you may be forgiven for doing so, but this is about as unMorgan a car as you could imagine. A look at the front reveals no familiar cowled radiator grille. A closer look reveals a differential lurking behind the grille, for this is a front-wheel drive car. The badge tells the story: Georges Irat.

Born in Arcachon, France, in 1892, Georges Irat went to Paris at age 20 to enter the motor trade. By the time World War I ended he was in charge of the Majola factory, which made a range of light touring cars. Irat began the production of his own car, bearing his name, in 1921. Its ohv four-cylinder engine was designed by Maurice Gaultier, formerly of Delage, and the car had servo-assisted brakes on all four wheels. Production ranged from 100 to 200 cars a year. Bodies came from outsource carrosseries, like this attractive cabriolet by Portout, who would later body the Peugeot Eclipse. This car is a 1927 Model A. A six-cylinder car was added to the range that year also.

In the early thirties, Georges Irat offered some series of cars with American engines, but these were not successful. With backing from Godefroy et Levecque, makers of Ruby engines, he began building the sporting car seen above. Called the 6CV from its French horsepower rating, it used an 1,100 cc Ruby engine driving the front wheels. About 1,500 were built from 1935 to 1939, the most successful Georges Irat then or now.

In 1938, he introduced a new front-drive sporting car, which used an 11CV engine from the Traction Avant Citroen. Only about 200 were built by the time World War II halted production. After the war, a radical new car was shown at the Paris Salon. Powered by an 1,100 cc flat four, it had a magnesium chassis and body. Also front-wheel drive, it had the engine located above the transmission. This three-headlamp version appeared at the '49 show, but nothing came of it. After a brief attempt to build Jeep-like vehicles with Dyna Panhard engines, Georges Irat exited the automobile business entirely in 1953. He retired to his home town, where he died in 1971.

A Packard for Every Purse and Purpose

We've posted at the CarPort before about Packard's postwar price point problem (yoiks, sorry for the aggravated alliteration). Indeed, the Clipper, which competed with the Buick Super, might have fared better if further differentiated from the big Packards, but the upper end of the range had identity problems of its own.

In the "Pregnant Elephant" era (1948-50), the series identities were easily understood - Eight, Super Eight, Custom Eight - even if the cars looked too much the same. But for 1951 and 1952 (the major difference was in the hood ornament), those heritage labels were thrown away and the series given numbers instead. The low-end car was called the "200," a mid-range sedan badged "300," and at the top the 400 Patrician, also a sedan. The 200 had a 122-inch wheelbase and 288 cid L-head straight eight. The 300 and 400 were both on 127 inch wheelbases, powered by a 327 cid straight eight. In between was a series 250, which had the short wheelbase and the large engine, and came as a Mayfair hardtop and convertible only. There was no 250 sedan. Pricewise, the 200 competed with the Buick Special, the 250 and 300 with the Buick Roadmaster, and the 400 Patrician with the Cadillac 62.

For 1953, new president James Nance brought back the Clipper name for what had been the 200. The 250, however, lost its series name and was known only by its catalog number, 2631. Added to the Mayfair and convertible was the new Caribbean softop, a prestige car selling for $5210 and having little in common with its fellow travelers. The Caribbean was perhaps inspired by a 1951 convertible given custom touches by coachbuilder Derham. The 300 became known as the Cavalier, the Patrician lost its "400" designation, and a pair of long (149-inch) wheelbase cars, a Corporation Limo and an Executive Sedan, was added at the top, built in small numbers. One problem was that the Mayfair and convertible were priced about $500 above the most costly Clipper, yet looked about the same.

This situation persisted into 1954, when the Clipper was given some unique sheet metal to differentiate it from the Patrician and other "large" Packards. The Cavalier returned and the big cars, which still had an unnamed series comprising the Pacific hardtop, convertible coupe and Caribbean, got a larger, 359 cid, nine-main-bearing engine.

For 1955, most Packards were Clippers; only three body styles, the Patrician sedan, a Four Hundred hardtop coupe and the Caribbean, were built on the 127-inch wheelbase. For 1956, the Clippers were moved further off scale, losing the Packard name (although many states registered them as such). A strange apparition appeared on the 122-inch wheelbase, the Executive line, which comprised a sedan and a hardtop and sold for the price of a Buick Roadmaster.

When 1957 rolled around, James Nance was gone and the Packards had become "Packardbakers," selling for Buick Century money. It's tempting to assign blame in hindsight. Packard's descent from prestige had many causes, but the confusing array of models from 1951 to 1956 must surely be among them. Cadillac held tightly to a regimen of 62, 60 Special and 75 throughout the period, and was rewarded with sales nearly four times Packard's by 1954. Perhaps if Packard had kept a heritage pecking order like that of the 1930s Six, One Twenty, Super Eight and Twelve, customers would have been less confused. There may well have been a Packard for every posh purse and purpose, but the patron was hard pressed to figure it out.

You'll notice we didn't mention Lincoln. That's because the 1952-55 Lincolns were not really luxury cars. Not until 1954 did Lincoln break the $4,000 mark. Until then it was strictly Buick-class.

When Donald Met Leonard

Donald Healey's career was blessed with a number of fortuitous meetings. His shipboard encounter with George Mason we've covered before. That led to the Nash-Healey. We also devoted a CarPort to his collaboration with Colin Chapman on the Jensen-Healey. More successful than either of those meetings was his conversation with Austin's chairman Leonard Lord at the 1952 London Motor Show.

The Nash-Healeys were not selling well, and Nash was losing $1,000 on every one that did. Healey worked up an all-British sports car, using mechanicals from the foundering Austin A-90 Atlantic. The new car's body was an attractive two-seater by Jensen of West Bromwich, then building the A-40 Sports for Austin. Healey took it to the show. Lord was impressed and a deal was struck. What had been the Healey Hundred (based on its top speed) became the Austin-Healey 100 and went into production for 1953. At first the cars had a three-speed gearbox, soon increased to four in a minor update in 1955.

In 1956, a 2.6-liter six was substituted for the 100's four of about the same size. The new car was called the 100-6, and sold as an "occasional four-seat sports tourer," since two small people could sit in back. In 1959, the engine was enlarged to 2,912 cc so the car was renamed "3000." A MkII version in 1961 featured three carburetors and a revised grille. The final version, MkIII, was built from 1963 to 1967 (this one is in works competition specification).

Difficulties in conforming to the new US safety and environmental regulations led to its discontinuation at the end of the year, since the American market took the preponderance of production. The British Motor Corporation, as Austin had become, tried to make a stopgap successor out of the MGB GT by fitting a three liter engine. (Mat, editor of a local MG newsletter, advises that the only things the MGC engine shares with the Austin-Healey are its bore and stroke. The fact that they have identical displacements causes some confusion.) The resulting MGC GT was a flop, euthanized at the end of 1969. Thus ended the Austin-Healey saga, except for the smaller sibling Sprite, which continued into 1971.

I've never owned a "big Healey," but I've driven several. They're great fun, fast, good handling cars with a deliciously throaty exhaust note. The latter is a hazard. The car is so low that any small bump will tear the muffler right off.