Le Mans in the 1950s: Jaguars and prancing horses amid tragedy
Jaguar's XK120S won Le Mans in 1951 and with disc brakes, finished 1-2-4 in 1953. The race attracted 20 makes in 1953, but tragedy struck in 1955.
Jaguar boss William Lyons learned lessons in 1950 with a near-standard XK120S and the following year came up with a much lighter and tauter, moderately more powerful Competition version, wrapped in aerodynamicist Malcolm Sayer’s handsome, slippery body. It won in 1951 and – by then equipped with disc brakes – finished 1-2-4 in 1953.
The French were not yet sidelined. Louis Rosier changed a rocker-shaft on his Talbot-Lago, then handed over briefly to his son so that he might devour a brace of bananas before resuming his epic victory drive of 1951. In 1952, Talbot-Lago now wearing enveloping bodywork demanded by regulation, Pierre ‘Levegh’ came within 70 minutes of a solo success; the 47-year-old had been unwilling to cede due to worrying engine vibrations and a malfunctioning rev-counter. Even in the euphoria of Germany’s maiden victory, Mercedes-Benz was acutely aware of the moral victory, its high ground and attendant politics.
The jewel of the new World Sports Car Championship attracted more than 20 makes in 1953 – despite Merc’s absence. Fewer committed in 1954, but a thrilling showdown between science and strength – Jaguar’s svelte D-type versus Ferrari’s brutish 375 Plus – played out in a Wagnerian thunderstorm, and caught the public’s imagination.
The enclosures would be packed in 1955, but Le Mans’ greatest tragedy would strike when more than 80 were killed and twice as many injured when the Mercedes-Benz of Levegh was launched over the embankment opposite the pits.
The race wasn’t stopped as the organisers feared blocked roads would hinder rescue efforts, and Jaguar refused Mercedes-Benz’s night-time offer of joint withdrawal – but in truth the sport’s existence was under threat long before a drawn-and-haggard Mike Hawthorn and co-driver Ivor Bueb completed a pyrrhic victory.
Yet 100,000 crammed into new grandstands opposite new multi-storey pits in 1956. The latter were unprotected still, but the start-finish area had been widened to accommodate a deceleration lane, the pinching kink on its approach removed. The race had been saved – even if that meant running to regulations causing temporary exclusion from the world championship: a recurring theme of the organisers’ future power struggles.
Edinburgh’s Ecurie Ecosse saved Jaguar’s bacon that year and, with more support in the absence of a works team, it registered a 1-2 in 1957 as D-types were five of the top six.
Though Ferrari emerged victorious through the heavy rain and thick fog of 1958, Aston Martin ended its long wait in 1959: 31 years after its debut, having contested every race since 1932. Winning co-driver Carroll Shelby battled dysentery throughout and raced with a nitroglycerine capsule secreted under his tongue because of a heart condition.
The Yanks were coming, chief among them being Briggs Cunningham – Yale man, America’s Cup yachtsman, Olympic bobsledder, team owner/driver – and then there was the understated and intelligent Phil Hill, America’s first winner as of 1958 and with two more in the tank for Ferrari.