The magic and mystique of Le Mans: The Editor

The first Le Mans 24 Hours took place 100 years ago this month on 26-27 May 1923. It had been dreamt up by Emile Coquille, a French importer of Rudge-Whitworth bicycles and wheels, George Durand of the ACO and Charles Faroux, the editor of a weekly motoring magazine. Initially it was envisaged to be an eight-hour race – four in daylight, four at night, but Durand suggested a full 24 hours. What could be a better proof of reliability and endurance?

That first event drew 33 starters from 17 manufacturers, all hoping to make their mark on history, yet now vanished – Delage, Montier, Chenard et Walcker, Brasier, Georges Irat, La Lorraine, Berliet… Only one name carried through to us uninterrupted: Bentley.

All the cars were French apart from the Bentley and two entrants from Excelsior, a Belgian manufacturer, and each raced in their national colours – blue for France, yellow for Belgium and green for the British. The weather was filthy and the track rutted but a jazz band and fireworks kept the crowd in good spirits.

Thirty cars finished – despite the rain, road surfaces and corners illuminated by makeshift army searchlights – with the Bentley coming in a commendable fourth and recording the fastest lap at 9min 41sec (66mph average).

The race was ‘won’ by the Chenard et Walcker of André Lagache and René Leonard four laps ahead of its sister car. I say ‘won’ because as all pub quiz question compilers know, there were no actual winners in 1923 or for that matter in 1924 or 1925 either, because the events were not individual races but rounds of the Rudge-Whitworth Triennial Cup – an idea cooked up to ensure teams kept coming back.

“There is a magic and mystique to Le Mans that can be hard to pin down”

Since then Le Mans has become that rare thing – a sporting event that has managed – like Wimbledon, say, – to transcend even its own sport. There is a magic and mystique to Le Mans that can be hard to pin down, which is why this month we have dedicated much of Motor Sport to celebrating its history in as comprehensive a way as possible, while hopefully still capturing some of its essence by highlighting lesser-known aspects that have helped define it.

Our coverage focuses on the racing but I would also recommend readers search out a new book by the journalist Richard Williams, 24 Hours, which traces the history of the race over 500 compelling pages. Williams is a fine writer and historian and the book is a treasure trove of telling details. One such offers a glimpse of how the race quickly took on a life of its own. “The poster for the inaugural race had shown a painting of a car racing through the night, drops of rain glinting in the beam from its headlights as it thundered on,” writes Williams. “The second year’s poster offered a different vision. The illustration showed flappers in summer dresses and young sports in black tie dancing under the moon, the stars and a firework display; a powerful car racing past the grandstands seemed almost like a sideshow.”

Despite all the historic efforts detailed in this issue of Motor Sport, perhaps it is the fact that Le Mans, even in its earliest incarnation, harnessed those universal themes of adventure and romance that have ensured our love affair with it has stood the test of time.

Incidentally, it is not often that the Motor Sport archive lets you down. But I am sorry to report that the vast digital resource which documents everything ever published by us does not feature that first race for the simple reason that it pre-dates even us (Motor Sport’s origins came a year later). However, if you would like a flavour of those early races you could do a lot worse than search up our report from 1925 written by JD Benjafield, who was part of the Bentley team that year. “Sharp to time the flag fell, and the loud speakers bellowed “Partez” when the drivers made a dash for their cars, feverishly erected the hood (20 laps having to be driven with the hood up), leapt in, pressed the starter, and away they went in a cloud of dust. John Duff was first away in his Bentley No9, and the agility he showed in tucking his long limbs under the dash would have done credit to an acrobat. He was closely followed by Bertie Kensington-Moir in the other Bentley, No10, and, needless to say, the cheers from the Bentley pits were long and loud, the omens being most favourable…”

As England cricket fans used to say ruefully, it’s not the losing that gets you, it’s the hope. I feel the same around Le Mans. After years of hoping for drama and witnessing the underwhelming races of the past few years my natural excitement at this summer’s event is tinged with trepidation: what if all the hype falls flat?

On paper, of course, the hype itself looks fully justified. Not only do we have a full grid of top-class manufacturer-backed entrants, but they include some of the most storied names – Porsche is back and Ferrari returns a full 50 years after it last competed for outright honours. Cadillac is also back while former winner Peugeot returns with a trend-bucking design to add an air of unpredictability.

And yet…

There is an ominous feeling, in the shape of a pair of Toyota GR010s. This year we may see an easy victory for the Japanese marque for the sixth year running. As our sports car specialist Gary Watkins says after the first two WEC rounds: “The two-lap victory over eight hours at Sebring and one lap over six at Portimão suggested that Toyota’s rivals, Ferrari, Porsche, Peugeot and Cadillac, have a mountain to climb to get on terms.”

Then again, at Le Mans mountains have been climbed before…

Joe Dunn, editor
Follow Joe on Twitter @joedunn90

Next issue: Our July issue is on sale from June 7