Monaco 1952: When sportscars ran in the Monaco Grand Prix

Formula 1 was at a low ebb following Alfa Romeo’s withdrawal at the end of 1951, and BRM’s telling decision not to attend April’s non-championship race in Turin’s Valentino Park had put the tin lid on it: F1 was a bust; and the Automobile Club de Monaco did not fancy entertaining the jumped-up/promoted 2.0-litre tiddlers of Formula 2.

This was a period of flux as the ACM sought to re-establish its race in the aftermath of war. The revival of 1948 had included motorbikes – an experiment never repeated. There was no race in 1949; and nor was there in 1951. The 1950 iteration had been the second round of the inaugural F1 world championship. This time around, however, a diverse grid of powerful two-seaters was deemed preferable to bestowed status.

Moss saw his chance and persuaded Jaguar Cars to have team manager ‘Lofty’ England ferry its 1951 Le Mans-winning C-Type – chassis 003 – across France. There it was joined by Tommy Wisdom’s privateer version. Aston Martin was more ambitious and sent three works DB3s, for Parnell, Lance Macklin and Peter Collins to drive.

The bulk of the 18-car grid consisted of privateer V12 Ferraris; mainly 2.7-litre 225S in various guises: Vittorio Marzotto, eldest of four racing brothers, drove a Spyder by Vignale; Antonio Stagnoli’s, which he shared with Clemente Biondetti, was also styled by Vignale but featured an ugly amalgam of cycle-type wings fared in with the bodywork; Eugenio Castellotti’s Barchetta was by Touring; and Frenchmen ‘Pagnibon’, real name Pierre Boncompagni, and Jean Lucas/André Simon would drive closed berlinetti, the latter pair sharing Luigi Chinetti’s entry. Stagnoli and Castellotti were entered by Scuderia della Guastalla of Milan, as was the more powerful 250S of Giovanni Bracco, recent thrilling winner of the Mille Miglia. Marzotto’s eponymous team had in turn entered a 340 American – the race’s most powerful at 4.1-litres – for Piero Carini.

French honour was to be upheld by a brace of Talbot-Lago, driven by Louis Rosier/Maurice Trintignant and Pierre ‘Levegh’, real surname Bouillin, plus the Gordini T15S of Robert Manzon. The latter was a 35-year-old former diesel fitter from Marseilles who had sprung to racing prominence in 1947 by finishing second in Angoulême’s Circuit des Remparts – a street race even more tortuous than Monaco’s – since when he had driven for Gordini.

He began his Whit weekend well by charging from the back of the grid to win the 65-lap Prix de Monte Carlo support race (for sports cars under 2,000cc) on Sunday in the Paris marque’s 1.5-litre four-cylinder model. (Moss had led for a time in a Frazer Nash Le Mans Replica before retiring because of a loose rear wheel.)

Gordini’s reputation was for nimble chassis lacking power and reliability. But this encouraging victory – plus the recent addition of a larger six-cylinder (a 2.3-litre in sportscar form) – suddenly made Manzon an outside shot for Monday’s 100-lap main race, for which he had qualified on the second row.

Once again it was Moss who made the early running after an excellent start from the middle of the front row. Levegh, using the occasion to test his car in readiness for Le Mans, had pipped the Jaguar to pole but would become the race’s first retirement. What he learned in those few laps – a camshaft failed – stood him in good stead, for he would come within a fluffed gearshift of winning the Grand Prix d’Endurance after an epic 22-hour solo.

Moss’s Le Mans in contrast would last about 24 laps. His alarm bell had begun to ring in early May when a ‘Gullwing’ Mercedes-Benz blew by him on a windswept 150mph section of the Mille Miglia. His telegram – Must have more speed at Le Mans. Stop – caused a regrettable knee-jerk reaction and a ham-fisted modification that would cause all three Jaguars to retire in short order because of overheating.

That calamity lay in the future. More pressing – and at the time just as depressing – was the fact that Manzon was now catching quickly. Moss liked the C-Type – he preferred it to the subsequent D-Type – but at this juncture it seemed to be falling between two stools, being neither sufficiently fast nor nimble. Manzon’s inevitable pass occurred just before quarter-distance – and the pile-up.

Parnell’s Aston had slid off on its own oil at the exit of Ste Dévote and the slick would catch out several, including the leading duo. The Gordini’s impact was terminal, and trapped Parnell’s leg painfully between car and hay bale – he can be seen hobbling out of shot as Hume enters stage left – but Moss was able to rejoin. After a stop to pull crumpled bodywork away from the front wheels, he continued for a further 20 frantic laps before being shown the black flag – for his having received the assistance of two overly enthusiastic British spectators in regaining the road.

The remainder of the race was a Ferrari benefit, Marzotto’s better pit work enabling him to finish 15 seconds ahead of Castellotti in a 1-2-3-4-5 for the 225S.

The experiment had not been a success in truth – and Luigi Fagioli’s injuries, sustained during practice when his Lancia Aurelia crashed exiting the Tunnel, were casting a shadow. Worse followed. Three weeks later, despite encouraging press photos ostensibly charting his recovery, the Italian veteran, who was the first to lead a Monaco GP from start to finish – in 1935 for Mercedes-Benz – succumbed.

The ACM took stock and the next Monaco GP would not be held until 1955 – by which time F1 had got its house in order. A permanent fixture ever since, it’s impossible to imagine the one without the other.

And that’s not 2020 hindsight.

Images courtesy of Motorsport Images.