Emerging from history books and old photographs, Bristol’s lost 450 Le Mans has been painstakingly recreated and returned to the Montlhéry banking
WORDS SERGE CORDEY/CHRISTOPHE GAILLARD PHOTOGRAPHY PATRICK LÉVÈQUE
Old photographs give the impression of a clumsy, imposing machine, with lines that suggest massive bodywork to the rear. But the reality soon sweeps away all misconceptions: the Bristol 450 Le Mans is compact. It might look unnecessarily long in profile, but the bold aerodynamic logic of its designers actually gives it quite delicate proportions, such as its tapered fins, as slender as those of a fighter jet.
It was this functional aesthetic that inspired Olivier Boré, a Frenchman passionate about art, design and old cars, to embark on a recreation of the forgotten coupé. “Initially, I was looking for an aerodynamic car,” Boré explains. “I like things that are designed, and rare, and I’ve always been fascinated by this kind of streamliner, like the Bugatti Atlantic. But the cars that appealed to me were either impossible to find or too costly.”
At the time he owned a Bristol 404, an elegant coupé whose rear wings had small fins, vestiges of the 450’s, and it was through enthusiastic research that Boré discovered the 450 Le Mans. Of the four made, only one survives: chassis 11, which had been converted to a roadster in preparation for the 1955 season that ended early (C&SC, January 2019). The idea of recreating a coupé slowly germinated in Boré’s mind, and while in England to visit Andrew Mitchell, boss of Wiltshire-based Bristol and coachwork specialist Mitchell Motors, discussion on the 450 turned into a plan of action. “Andrew was immediately very enthusiastic,” Boré recalls. “As the original had disappeared, the approach was justified: it was not a replica of an existing car.”
The pair agreed to use as many Bristol components as possible. They started by looking for a suitable chassis, knowing that the originals – based on an ERA tubular spaceframe – had long since been destroyed. “Andrew found a 406 chassis that was close to that of the late-1953 development mule,” says Boré. “So I bought it.”
Then it was a matter of sourcing a ‘12-pipe’ engine, so named because the unit could accommodate three twin-choke carburettors instead of the single-choke Solexes of the touring version. Each carburettor had its own intake duct that, together with the exhausts, made a total of 12. But apart from the unit in the remaining roadster, was there another? “We found one,” Boré exclaims, still incredulous at his luck. The engine was rebuilt lar
