A trio of Alfas

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We sample Peter Agg’s collection in Sussex

The name of Trojan has long been associated with motoring of many sorts. Once a manufacturer of private and commercial vehicles, the company has more recently been involved in racing, building the customer-bought McLaren Can-Am cars, and in 1974 and 1975 building and running their own Formula One contender.

Now the fruits of another enterprise can be seen in the beautiful grounds of Effingham Park in Sussex. Peter J. Agg, the man behind Trojan, has since the late Sixties gradually been gathering a collection of some of the finest automobiles in the world. This collection, which currently comprises about twenty vehicles, is now housed in a purpose-built museum at Effingham, and it was there that we went to look at some recent acquisitions from America — three pre-war Alfa Romeos: a 1928 1750, a 1932 8C 2.3, and a 1938 8C 2.9.

The oldest of the three cars is an example of what is for many people the classic Alfa — the 1750 twin-cam supercharged roadster. Although this seems small nowadays for a six-cylinder engine, it was in fact based on the preceding 1½-litre design from the pen of Vittorio Jano which had proved itself a fine engine, and to an extent had begun a movement towards refined small-capacity power-units. The Effingham 1750 is dated 1928, although the model’s first official appearance in Britain was at the 1929 London Motor Show, and is one of the Super or Gran Sport models. The chassis was also available with an unblown twin-cam engine, the Gran Turismo, and as a single-cam version mo, the Turismo. Oddly enough, the increase from 11/2to 1-1/4-litre brought hardly any increase in power on the single-cam, but boosted the output of the blown twin-cam from 76 to 85 bhp at 4,800 rpm. Early cars were run at a boost pressure of 5 lb, but later the supercharger was enlarged slightly and pressure went up to 6 lb, together with revised inlet manifolding, the beautiful finned castings of which can be seen on the car in question.

The underbonnet area is very clean in design, the supercharger and inlet tracts being on the off-side, and the exhaust manifolds on the near, with little extraneous machinery. Once the bonnet is lowered and the chrome clips sprung into place, the tell-tale sign of the supercharged car is the sloping radiator, normal induction cars having a vertical grille.

Most of these cars were supplied as chassis, and this example has a simple but perfectly proportioned two-seater roadster body by Touring. Although the wheelbase is the short one (nine feet) the high running boards and the sweeping chrome coachline combine to make the profile low and elegant. Driver and passenger sit just ahead of the rear axle, and behind them the tail sweeps down to carry two spare tyres.

The next model chronologically is the 2.3 8C, standing for eight cylinders. This has the same bore and stroke as the 1750, but there are two blocks of four cylinders each with the camshaft gear-trains in between. The supercharger was again mounted low down on the offside, was gear-driven, breathed through a Memini carburetter, and fed into a finned tract which split into two four-branch inlet manifolds. Pressurised at 6 lb, the engine was claimed by Alfa to produce 130 bhp at 4,900 rpm and was lubricated by a dry-sump system.

Two chassis lengths were available, the 9 ft Mille Miglia, the version which first appeared in that race in 1931, and the 10 ft 2 in Le Mans, which is the type described here. It is fitted with a convertible body by Figoni et Falaschi, which proudly displays a bonnet badge reading “Alfa Romeo — Paris” rather than “Alfa Romeo — Milano”. It also sports the slotted cowl derived from the “Monza” racing model, so named after winning the Italian GP at that circuit in 1931. The transmission and axle were of similar design to the 1750, the gearbox being in unit with the engine and driven through a multiple clutch.

It was this 8C engine which became the basis of first the 2.6 Monoposto (single-seat) and then the 2.9B Monoposto racing engines which are said to have inspired Jano to produce the 2.9 8C road car, the last in our trio. When the original 8C unit was enlarged to 2.6-litres, it was fitted with twin superchargers of smaller capacity, and this is the layout on the Effingham car. Each blower fed one block of four cylinders, and in its detuned road-going form it produced 180 bhp, compared with the 215 bhp that the first 2.9B Monoposto had in 1934. The other major change was in the suspension. The company developed an independent front suspension for the later 2.9B Monopostos, and were working on an experimental swing-axle rear, both of which units found their way onto the road cars. This, however, is hidden by the graceful roadster body by Touring which, despite a 10 year difference, nevertheless displays a family resemblance to the 1750 through the plunging coachline.

This impressive vehicle, in red like all the others, is beautifully detailed; for example, the exhaust pipe protrudes through a neat opening in the rear valance. It is thought to be one of two 2.9 8Cs owned by the late Viscount Ridley.

Not all the cars in the collection are licensed every year, and at the time of our visit, only one of them was legal for the road. We were, however, able to drive each of the cars on the drives within the park complex, and the first of these was the 1750.

Stepping up rather than into the car, the driver finds himself behind a large three spoke steering wheel, with an excellent view of the surroundings due to the height. A flat windscreen extends as far up as eye-level, with adjustable trim tabs on either side, and a row of instruments fills the narrow painted steel dashboard, while the long cranked gear-lever and vertical handbrake are offset to the nearside, leaving restricted room for a passenger’s legs, which already have to avoid the additional oil-tank fitted on the left below the dash. This tank, a feature of 1½- and 1¼-litre blown cars, allowed the driver to let more oil into the sump when required. The Curator of the collection, Harry Payne, showed us the starting procedure — hold the choke lever down for a few moments, which simply lifts the carburetter floats and allows petrol to trickle through, push in the ignition key to switch on, and press the starter button. After a few revolutions the engine bursts into life and settles down to a pleasant bark. Into first through the chrome gate, and only a short movement of the clutch pedal is enough to start rolling. A crash ‘box and a centre throttle pedal make swift changes a matter of practice, but in each gear the engine pulls strongly, with remarkably little whine from the supercharger.

Steering is very responsive (1¾ turns lock to lock) so that the lack of room in the cockpit is unimportant, only light pressure being needed to control the car, and while our limited run precluded any high-speed motoring, to confirm it for ourselves, the chassis is noted for its excellent handling.

The ride felt fairly hard, the frame flexing quite as much as the short leaf springs, but mere comfort is secondary to the sheer thrill of conducting such a thoroughbred, whose taut controls give the impression of having been engineered purely for fast driving.

A few more concessions to practicality mark out the 2.3-litre 8C, still a two-seater but with some storage space behind the seats, a true “trunk”, and a permanently attached hood. The latter looks very elegant when raised, although there are no sidescreens, and the chrome and wood mechanism allows it to be folded away in just a few seconds. Getting in is actually less easy than in the 1750, because of the high internal sill that the rear-hinged door reveals, but once settled there is more of an enclosed feeling, with a windscreen that one looks through rather than over. This machine was more reluctant to lire up, hut once muting showed itself excellently smooth, the was racing in response to a blip on the tiny centre throttle. Unfortunately the scuttle protects so far over the engine-turned aluminium dash that the instruments are very difficult to see but the noise of the engine provides an unmistakeable reminder as to gearchange points.

Perhaps, because of longer wheelbase, the steering of the 2.3 8C lacked the delightful precision of its six-cylinder predecessor, while the ride was even less forgiving, although perhaps we were unfair in driving it across a gravel car park infested with potholes, had we had more time, it would have been interesting to experiment with the two large knobs under the dash which control the settings of the friction shock-absorbers. As it was, our run within the confines of the park gave us a frustrating hint of just how eagerly the engine pulled, with that wonderful instant surge from the lowest revs which is characteristic of supercharged cars, swelling into a glorious snarl at full throttle. Taming all that power is surprisingly easy, as the car is equipped with huge 15¾ in drums which are relatively light in operation.

Approaching the 2.9 8C alter the ot her two cars was a little more daunting. Here was a magnificent mobile sculpture, an enormous expanse of softly curving metal which seemed to dwarf its occupants, who sit deep within the body surrounded by red leather. Concealed zipped pockets are let into the door panels, and the dash boasts two kickable cubbies padded in the same red leather. Controls and instruments are symmetrically grouped in the centre, and interestingly the tachometer and speedometer rotate in opposite directions, a feature which is still arousing controversy on present-day Alfa Giulietta saloons.

Despite the proximity of the sturdy windscreen pillars, they do not interfere with vision, and neat arcs of glass extend part-way along the doors to exclude the worst draughts. This car also has a centre throttle, and to trip the unwary pilot the gear positions are transposed from those of the 1750 and 2.3 land current practice 1 by having first and second where third and fourth would he. As a result of using a gearbox in unit with the final drive, the gate is mounted at the rear of the fitotwell with the lever cranked forwards. This produced a minor problem, for as we bounced up and down on the seat, the cushion would bulge out and knock the lever out of second!

The driving position was much more reminiscent of a modern car, with more extended legs and arms, and to drive feels as much of an advance on the other tweo as it looks. Both the 1750 and the 2.3 were undoubtedly cars which exemplified the state of the art in their own tune, but whereas the latter is a straightforward development of the former, the 2.9 represented fresh thinking. Apart from using a donned version of the Monoposto engine, it incorporated independent suspension all round, using twin small trailing links at the front, and swing axles with a transverse leaf spring at the rear. The effect of this is to provide a much more comfortable ride, helped no doubt by the inertia of the more massive body. In this car also it is possible to adjust the rear shock-absorbers from the dash via a hydraulic control.

Once the reverse gearchange has been mastered, the 2.9 proves a pleasure to drive, and despite its size is easy to place on the road. Even more exciting noises than produced by the other two cars are assured by the whine of the twin superchargers, and the acceleration is impressive even now — a contemporary road-test claimed a 0-60 mph time of 9.4 sec. The brakes are smooth and powerful, and the clutch quick-acting — altogether the sort of car which gets better and better as the speed rises. As we all too quickly used up our allocation of estate roads we could not help envying Peter Agg his recent trip to Monte Carlo in this car, for which the only special preparation made was the fitting of the two auxiliary lamps up front.

It is good to know that not only are the cars kept in excellent running order, but also that they are put to work attending rallies and the like. The collection at Effingham Park is never static, as the round museum also earns its keep by doubling as a function hall and the exhibits are swapped around or taken temporarily into storage according to the requirements sit the occasion. During our visit, a dinner for some 500 people was being prepared amidst a C-type Jaguar, Ferrari 275 GTB, Ford GT40, Delahaye…

That these three cars have somewhat redressed the flow of classic cars across the Atlantic is an encouraging sign, and gathered in one place they form an exciting illustration of importance of that decade just before the Second World War when so many experiments and developments came about. G.C.