This pair of pioneer machines found fame in the 1953 caper Genevieve, a film that helped give old-car ownership global appeal
WORDS SIMON HUCKNALL PHOTOGRAPHY MAX EDLESTON
Genevieve doesnʼt like to be kept waiting. Iʼm perched high on her leather bench, being gently rocked to the metronomic rhythm of an idling Darracq two-cylinder engine, when steam starts to spiral from the brass radiator cap. The wait for a cloud break has proved too much for the 119-year-old veteran, and she has quite rightly, and literally, thrown a hissy-fit. But that wait is nothing compared with the 70 years it has taken to reunite this car, star of the eponymous 1953 BAFTA-winning film Genevieve, with her co-starring 1905 Spyker. In the intervening years, the Dutch veteran has been restored to its original silver-screen specification and repainted yellow, instead of the green it wore for the seven decades following the movieʼs release. Few automotive reunions are as poignant, and we are the first to capture the moment.
The filmʼs significant anniversary will be marked in November, when both of these cars will be first away at the 88th running of the annual London to Brighton Veteran Car Run (see panel). That is appropriate, because the global success of the film ensured the survival of what is now the worldʼs longest-running motoring event. Perhaps more significantly, it cast ripples across all activities involving old cars, acting as a catalyst that transformed what had previously been perceived as a slightly eccentric hobby into one with global appeal. In fact, the magazine youʼre reading now may well owe its existence to Genevieve and, ultimately, the cars weʼre driving today.
That both the 1904 Darracq 10/12hp, aka ʻGenevieveʼ, and the 1905 Spyker 12/16hp Double Phaeton alongside it were found in such inauspicious surroundings prior to cinematic fame makes their stories even more remarkable. The car that was to become Genevieve was discovered in 1945, when East London bailiff Bill Bailey happened upon a builderʼs yard on Lea Bridge Road in the capital, strewn with the remains of 15 veteran and vintage cars. Bailey told his friends Bill Peacock and Jack Wadsworth – both old-car collectors – of the haul, and a deal was struck to secure the lot for £45. Among them were two Darracqs: one a sound bare frame, stripped by local children of everything removable, the other a more complete car but with a badly rusted chassis. As luck would have it, both Darracqs – 10/12hp models, manufactured by A Darracq & Co of Suresnes, Paris, in 1904-ʼ05 – were ta
