Decapitate (pronounced dih-kap-i-teyt)
(1) To cut off the head; to behead.
(2) Figuratively, to oust or destroy the leadership or
ruling body of a government, military formation, criminal organization etc.
1605–1615: From the fourteenth century French décapiter,
from the Late Latin dēcapitātus, past
participle of dēcapitāre, the
construct being dē- + capit- (stem of caput (head), genitive capitis), from the Proto-Italic kaput, from the
Proto-Indo-European káput- (head) + -ātus.
The Latin prefix
dē- (off) was from the preposition dē (of, from); the Old English æf- was a similar prefix. The Latin suffix -ātus was from the Proto-Italic -ātos,
from the primitive Indo-European -ehtos. It’s regarded as a
"pseudo-participle" and perhaps related to –tus although though similar formations in other Indo-European
languages indicate it was distinct from it already in early Indo-European
times. It was cognate with the
Proto-Slavic –atъ and the
Proto-Germanic -ōdaz (the English
form being -ed (having). The feminine
form was –āta, the neuter –ātum and it was used to form adjectives
from nouns indicating the possession of a thing or a quality. The English suffix -ate was a word-forming
element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum
(such as estate, primate & senate).
Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e
was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel. It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin
perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate). Again, often they were adopted in Middle
English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee. Decapitate, decapitated
& decapitating are verbs, decapitation & decapitator are nouns; the common noun plural is decapitations.
Lindsay
Lohan gardening with a lopper in her gloved hands, decapitation a less
demanding path to destruction than deracination, New York City, May, 2015. She appears to be relishing the task. As a military strategy, the idea of decapitation is as
old as warfare and based on the effective “cut the head off the snake”. The technique of decapitation is to identify
the leadership (command and control) of whatever structure or formation is
hostile and focus available resources on that target. Once the leadership has been eliminated, the
effectiveness of the rest of the structure should be reduced and the idea is
applied also in cyber warfare although in that field, target identification can
be more difficult. The military’s
decapitation strategy is used by many included law enforcement bodies and can
to some extent be applied in just about any form of interaction which involves
conflicting interests. The common English synonym is behead and that word may
seem strange because it means “to take off the head” where the English word
bejewel means “to put on the jewels”.
It’s because of the strange and shifting prefix "be-". Behead was from the Middle English beheden, bihefden & biheveden, from the Old English behēafdian (to behead). The prefix be- however evolved from its use
in Old English. In modern use it’s from
the Middle English be- & bi-, from the Old English be- (off, away), from the Proto-Germanic
bi- (be-), from the Proto-Germanic bi (near, by), the ultimate root the
primitive Indo-European hepi (at,
near) and cognate be- in the Saterland Frisian, the West Frisian, the Dutch,
the German & Low German and the Swedish.
When the ancestors of behead were formed, the prefix be- was appended to
create the sense of “off; away” but over the centuries it’s also invested the
meanings “around; about” (eg bestir), “about, regarding, concerning” (eg bemoan),
“on, upon, at, to, in contact with something” (eg behold), “as an intensifier”
(eg besotted), “forming verbs derived from nouns or adjectives, usually with
the sense of "to make, become, or cause to be" (eg befriend) & "adorned
with something" (eg bejewel)).
A less common synonym is decollate, from the Latin decollare (to behead) and there’s also
the curious adjective decapitable which (literally “able or fit to be
decapitated”) presumably is entirely synonymous with “someone whose head has
not been cut off” though not actually with someone alive, some corpses during
the French Revolution being carted off to be guillotined, the symbolism of the seemingly
superfluous apparently said to have been greeted by the mob "with a cheer". Just as pleasing though less bloody were the Citroën cabriolets crafted between 1958-1974 by French coachbuilder Henri Chapron (1886-1978).
1971 Citroën DS21 Décapotable Usine with non-standard interior including bespoke headrests in the style used on some Jensen Interceptors.
Produced
between 1955-1975, the sleek Citroën DS must have seemed something from science fiction to those accustomed to what was plying the roads outside but although it soon came to be regarded as something
quintessentially French, the DS was actually designed by an Italian. In this it was similar to French fries
(invented in Belgium) and Nicolas Sarközy (b 1955; President of France
2007-2012), who first appeared on the planet the same year as the shapely DS and he was
actually from here and there. It was
offered as the DS and the lower priced ID, the names a play
on words, DS in French pronounced déesse (goddess) and ID idée (idea). The goddess nickname caught on though idea
never did.
Citroën Cabriolet d'Usine production count, 1960-1971.
Henri Chapron had attended the Paris Auto
Salon when the DS made its debut and while Citroën had planned to offer a
cabriolet, little had been done beyond some conceptual drawings and development
resources were instead devoted to higher-volume variants, the ID (a less
powerful DS with simplified mechanicals and less elaborate interior
appointments) which would be released in 1957 and the Break (a station wagon
marketed variously the Safari, Break, Familiale or Wagon), announced the next
year. Chapron claims it took him only a
glance at the DS in display for him instantly to visualise the form his
cabriolet would take but creating one proved difficult because such was the
demand Citroën declined to supply a partially complete platform, compelling the
coach-builder to secure a complete car from a dealer willing (on an undisclosed
basis) to “bump” his name up the waiting list while he worked on the blueprints. It
wasn’t until 1958 Carrosserie Chapron presented their first DS cabriolet,
dubbed La Croisette, named after the emblematic costal boulevard of Cannes and
while initially it wasn’t approved by the factory (compelling Chapron to continue buying
complete cars from dealers), it was obvious to Citroën’s engineers that they’d
been presented with a shortcut to production.
Accordingly, Chapron designed a DS cabriolet suited to series
production (as opposed to his bespoke creations) and that meant using the
longer wheelbase platform of the Break, chosen because it was structurally
enhanced to cope with the loads station wagons carry. Beginning in 1960, these (in ID & DS
versions) were the approved Cabriolets d'Usine, distributed until 1971 through Citroën’s
dealer network, complete with a factory warranty.
1964 Citroën DW19 Décapotable Usine. For statistical purposes the DWs are included in the DS production count)
The DS and
ID are well documented in the model's history but there was also the more
obscure DW, built at Citroën's UK manufacturing plant in the Berkshire town
Slough which sits in the Thames Valley, some 20 miles west of London. The facility was opened in February 1926 as
part of the Slough Trading Estate (opened just after World War I (1914-1918))
which was an early example of an industrial park, the place having the
advantage of having the required infrastructure needed because constructed by the government for wartime
production and maintenance activities.
Citroën was one of the first companies to establish an operation on the site, overseas
assembly prompted by the UK government's imposition of tariffs (33.3% on
imported vehicles, excluding commercial vehicles) and the move had the added
advantage of the right-hand-drive (RHD) cars being able to be exported
throughout the British Empire under the “Commonwealth Preference”, arrangements, a low-tariff scheme, elements of which would endure as a final relic of the chimera of imperial free trade until 1973 when the UK joined the EEC (European Economic Community). Unlike similar operations, which in decades to come would appear world-wide, the Slough Citroëns were not
assembled from CKD (completely knocked down) kits which needed only local labor
to bolt them together but used a mix of imported parts and locally produced
components. The import tariff was
avoided if the “local content” (labor and domestically produced (although those
sourced from elsewhere in the empire could qualify) parts) reached a certain
threshold (measured by the total P&L (parts & labor) value in local currency); it was an approach
many governments would follow and it remains popular today as a means of
encouraging (and protecting) local industries and creating employment. People able to find jobs in places like Slough would have
been pleased but for those whose background meant they were less concerned with
something as tiresome as paid-employment, the noise and dirt of factories
seemed just a scar upon the “green and pleasant land” of William Blake
(1757–1827). In his poem Slough (1937), Sir John Betjeman
(1906–1984; Poet Laureate 1972-1984), perhaps recalling Stanley Baldwin's
(1867–1947; UK prime-minister 1923-1924, 1924-1929 & 1935-1937) “The bomber will
always get through” speech (1932) welcomed the thought,
writing: “Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! It isn’t fit for humans now” Within half a decade, the Luftwaffe would grant his wish.
1964 Citroën DW19 Décapotable Usine.
During
World War II (1939-1945), the Slough plant was requisitioned for military use and some
23,000 CMP (Canadian Military Pattern) trucks were built, civilian production
resuming in 1946. After 1955, Slough
built both the ID and DS, the latter including the traditionally English leather trim and a wooden dashboard, a touch which some critics claimed was jarring among
the otherwise modernist ambiance but the appeal was real because some French
distributors imported the Slough dashboard parts for owners who liked the look. The UK-built cars also used 12 volt Lucas
electrics until 1963 and it was in that year the unique DW model was slotted in
between the ID and DS. Available only
with a manual transmission and a simplified version of the timber veneer, the
DW was configured with the ID's foot-operated clutch but used the more powerful
DS engine, power steering and power brakes.
When exported, the DW was called DS19M and the "DW" label was
applied simply because it was Citroën's internal code to distinguish (RHD)
models built in the UK from the standard left-hand-drive (LHD) models produced
in France. Citroën assembly in Slough
ended in February 1965 and although the factory initially retained the plant as
a marketing, service & distribution centre, in 1974 these operations were
moved to other premises and the buildings were taken over by Mars Confectionery. Today, no trace remains of
the Citroën works in Slough.
1963 Citroën Le Dandy & 1964 Citroën Palm Beach by Carrosserie Chapron.
Citroën DS by Carrosserie Chapron production count 1958-1974.
Demand was higher at a lower price-point, as Citroën's 1325 cabriolets indicate but Carrosserie Chapron until 1974 maintained output of his more exclusive an expensive lines although by the late 1960s, output, never prolific, had slowed to a trickle. Chapron’s originals varied in detail and the most distinguishing difference between the flavors was in the rear coachwork, the more intricate being those with the "squared-off" (sometimes called "finned" or "fin-tailed") look, a trick Mercedes-Benz had in 1957 adopted to modernize the 300d (W189, 1957-1963, the so called "Adenauer Mercedes", named after Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany (the old West Germany) 1949-1963) who used several of the W186 (300, 300b, 300c, 1951-1957) & 300s models as his official state cars). Almost all Chapron's customized DS models were built to special order between under the model names La Croisette, Le Paris, Le Caddy, Le Dandy, Concorde, Palm Beach, Le Léman, Majesty, & Lorraine; all together, 287 of these were delivered and reputedly, no two were exactly alike.
Citroën
Concorde coupés by Chapron: 1962 DS 19 (left) and 1965 DS 21 (right). The DS 21 is one of six second series cars,
distinguished by their “squared-off” rear wing treatment and includes almost
all the luxury options Chapron had on their list including electric windows,
leather trim, the Jaeger instrument cluster, a Radiomatic FM radio with
automatic Hirschmann antenna, the Robergel wire wheel covers and the Marchal
auxiliary headlights.
Alongside
the higher-volume Cabriolets d'Usine, Carrosserie Chapron continued to produce
much more expensive décapotables (the Le Caddy and Palm Beach cabriolets) as
well as limousines (the Majesty) and coupés, the most numerous of the latter
being Le Dandy, some 50 of which were completed between 1960-1968. More exclusive still was another variation of
the coupé coachwork, the Concorde with a more spacious cabin notably for the greater
headroom it afforded the rear passengers.
Only 38 were built over five years and at the time they cost as much as
the most expensive Cadillac 75 Limousine.
Bossaert's
Citroën DS19-based GT 19 (1959-1964); the Marchal auxiliary headlights a later
addition (top).
Others also
built DS coupés & convertibles. Between
1959-1964 Belgium-born Hector Bossaert produced more than a dozen DS coupés and
what distinguished his was a platform shortened by 470 mm (18½ inches) and the
use of a notchback roof-line. Dubbed the
Bossaert GT 19, the frontal styling was unchanged although curiously, the Citroën
chevrons on the rear pillars were rotated by 90°; apart from the GT 19 Bossaert
script on the boot lid (trunk lid), they are the vehicle’s only external
identification. Opinion remains divided
about the aesthetes of the short wheelbase (SWB) DSs. While it’s conceded the Chapron coupés &
cabriolets do, in terms of design theory, look “unnaturally” elongated, the
lines somehow suit the machines and the word most often used is “elegant”
whereas the SWB cars do seem stubby and obviously truncated although, had the originals never existed, perhaps the SWB would look more "natural". The consensus seems to be the GT 19 was the
best implementation of the SWB idea, helped also by it being 70 mm (2¾ inches) lower
than the donor DS and perhaps that would be expected given the design was by
the Italian Pietro Frua (1913-1983).
Bossaert also increased the power.
Although the hydro-pneumatic suspension and slippery aerodynamics made
the DS a fine high-speed cruiser, the 1.9 litre (117 cubic inch) four cylinder
engine was ancient and inclined to be agricultural if pushed; acceleration was
not sparking. Bossaert thus offered “tuning
packages” which included the usual methods: bigger carburetors & valves,
and more aggressive camshaft profile and a higher compression ratio, all of
which transformed the performance from “mediocre” to “slightly above average”.
The one-off Bossaert GT 19 convertible (left) and the one off 1966 Citroën DS21-based Bossaert cabriolet (right).
Demand was
limited by the price; a GT 19 cost more than double that of a DS and the
conversion was more than a Jaguar so one really had to be prepared to pay for
the exclusivity. Additionally, when the Citroën
management discovered someone in a garage was “hotting-up” their engines, it
was made clear that would invalidate any warranty. Most sources say only 13 were built but there
were also two convertibles, one based on the GT 19 (though fitted with fared in
headlights) and the other quite different, owing more to the Chapron Caddy;
both remained one-offs. Two of the GT 19
coupés and the later convertible survive.
Right-side clignotant (left) on 1974 Citroën DS23
Pallas (right).
On the DS
& ID saloons, the clignotants (turn
indicators; flashers) were mounted in a housing which was styled to appear as a
continuation of the roof-gutter; it was touches like that which were a hint the
lines of the DS were from the drawing board of an Italian, Flaminio Bertoni
(1903–1964) who, before working in industrial design in pre-war Italy, had
trained as a sculptor. Citroën seems
never to have claimed the placement was a safety feature and critics of
automotive styling have concluded the flourish was added as part of the avant-garde
vibe. However, the way the location
enhanced their visibility attracted the interest of those advocating things
needed to be done to make automobiles safer and while there were innovations in
“active safety” (seat-belts, crumple zones etc), there was also the field of “passive
safety” and that included visibility; at speed, reducing a driver’s reaction
time by a fraction of a second can be the difference between life and death and
researchers concluded having a “third
brake light” at eye level did exactly that.
So compelling was the case it was under the administration of Ronald
Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989 and hardly friendly to new
regulations) that in 1986 the US mandated the CHMSL (centre high mount stop
lamp) but because the acronym lacked a effortless pronunciation the legislated
term never caught on and the devices are known variously as “centre brake light”,
“eye level brake light”, “third brake light”, “high-level brake light” & “safety
brake light”. Unintentionally, Citroën may
have started something though it took thirty years to realize the implications.
Coincidently, in the same year the DS debuted, Rudimentary seat-belts first appeared in production cars during the 1950s but the manufacturers must have thought the public indifferent because their few gestures were tentative such as in 1956 when Ford had offered (as an extra-cost option) a bundle of safety features called the “Lifeguard Design” package which included:
(1) Padded dashboards (to reduce head injuries).
(2) Recessed steering wheel hub (to minimize chest injuries).
(3) Seat belts (front lap belts only)
(4) Stronger door latches (preventing doors flying open in a crash)
(5) Shatter-resistant rear-view mirror (reducing injuries caused by from broken glass).
The standard features included (1) the Safety-Swivel Rear View Mirror, (2) the Deep-Center Steering Wheel with recessed post and bend-away spokes and (3) Double-Grip Door Latches with interlocking striker plate overlaps; Optional at additional cost were (4) Seat Belts (single kit, front or rear, color-keyed, nylon-rayon with quick one-handed adjust/release aluminium buckle) (US$5). There were also "bundles", always popular in Detroit. Safety Package A consisted of a Padded Instrument Panel & Padded Sun Visors (US$18) while Safety Package B added to that Front-Seat Lap Seat Belts (US$27). On the 1956 Thunderbird which used a significantly different interior design, the options were (1) the Lifeguard Padded Instrument Panel (US$22.65), (2) Lifeguard Padded Sun Visors (US$9) and (3) Lifeguard Seat Belts (US$14). Years later, internal documents would be discovered which revealed conflict within the corporation, the marketing department opposed to any mention of "safety features" because that reminded potential customers of car crashes; they would prefer they be reminded of new colors, higher power, sleek new lines and such. So, little was done to promote the “Lifeguard Design”, public demand was subdued and the soon the option quietly was deleted from the list.
The rising death-toll and complaints from the insurance industry however meant the issue of automotive safety re-surfaced in the 1960s and the publication by lawyer Ralph Nadar (b 1934) of the book Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) which explored the issue played a part in triggering what proved to be decades of legislation which not even the efforts and money of Detroit's lobbyists could stop although some delays in implementation were achieved and there was the odd victory (such as the survival of the convertible and ironically, that was a matter about which Detroit was at the time mostly indifferent). They could however delay things here and there and although it was a minor and temporary victory, the matter of the CHMSL was kicked down the road until 1986. The executives in Detroit were (and remain) "slippery slide) (or "thin end of the wedge") theorists in that they thought if they agreed to some innocuous suggestion from government then that would encourage edicts both more onerous and expensive to implement. History proved them in that correct but the intriguing thing was that more than a decade earlier, the industry had gone beyond the the SHMSL and of its own volition offered DHMSLs (high mount stop lamps), one division of General Motors (GM) even making the fittings standard equipment on one model.
1970 Ford
Thunderbird brochure (left) and 1972 Oldsmobile Toronado (right).
In 1969
Ford added “High-Level Taillamps, eye level warning to following drivers” to
the option list for the 1970 Thunderbird.
What that described was two brake lights fitted on either side of the rear-window
and being a update of a model introduced for 1967, the devices were “bolt-ons”
rather than being integrated into the structure. As with the “Lifeguard Design” of 1956, demand
was low, customers more prepared to pay for bigger engines and “dress up”
options than safety features. GM’s
Oldsmobile solved the problem of low demand by making the DHMSLs standard equipment on the Toronado, their big PLC (personal luxury coupe). Being a new body, the opportunity was taken
to integrate them into the structure and they sat below the rear window.
1987 Mercedes-Benz 560 SL (left), 1989 Mercedes-Benz 560 SL (centre) and 2001
Mercedes-Benz SL 600 (right).
When in
1971 the Mercedes-Benz 350 SL (R107, 1971-1989) was introduced, it occurred to
no one it would still be in production in 1989, the unplanned longevity the product
of an uncertainty about whether the US government would outlaw
convertibles. The by then 15 year old
roadster thus had to have a CHMSL added when the legislation came into effect
and it’s suspected the project was handed to the same team responsible for
making the company’s headlights comply with US law. What they did was “bolt on” to the trunk
(boot) lid a lamp which seemed to suggest the design brief had been: “make it stick out like a sore thumb”. If so, they succeeded and while the revised
model (1988-1989) used a smaller unit, it was little more than a slightly less small digit; frankly, Ford did a better job with the 1970 T-bird although, in
fairness, the Germans didn’t have a fixed rear window with which to work. When the R129 roadster (1989-2001) was
developed, the opportunity was taken (al la the 1971 Oldsmobile Toronado) to
integrate a CHMSL into the lid.
1989 Porsche
911 (930) Turbo Cabriolet (left) and 2004 Porsche 911 (996) Turbo Cabriolet.
In 1986, the Porsche 911
had been around longer even than the Mercedes-Benz R107. First sold in 1964 and updated for 1974 with
(US mandated) big bumpers, in 1986 it became another example of a “bolt on” solution
for the CHMSL rule but unlike the one used on the R107, on the 911 there’s a
charm to the lamp sitting atop a stalk, like that of some crustaceans, molluscs,
insects and stalk-eyed imaginings from SF (science fiction). All the “bolt-ons” existed because while there
is nothing difficult about the engineering of a CHMSL, many would be surprised
to learn just how expensive it would have been for a manufacturer to integrate
such a thing into an existing structure; a prototype or mock-up would be quick
and cheap but translating that into series production would have involved a
number of steps and the costs would have been considerable. That’s why there
were so many “bolt-on” CHMSLs in the late 1980s. Interestingly, when the next 911 (964 1989-1994)
was released, on the coupe’s the CHMSL was re-positioned at the top of the rear
window while the cabriolets retained the stalk.
The factory persevered with this approach for a while and it was only
later the unit became integrated into the rear bodywork (with many variations). Some still prefer the look of the stalk.
For
manufacturers and drivers alike, from the mid-1980s onward, CHMSLs became
omnipresent yet despite their conspicuous visibility, were soon so
unexceptional as to be in a sense unnoticed; they became just part of the
orthodoxy of design language.
Researchers however remained interested in the brake light and as early
as the 1970s some were advocating the introduction of front brake lights (FBL),
obviously a concept difficult to test in the wild because such things were
almost universally unlawful. In test labs
though their potential effectiveness could be studied by using simulators which
compared a driver’s reaction time to the sight of a braking vehicle with and
without FBLs and, unsurprisingly, where a warning light was present, reactions
were faster and that can be of consequence in situations of potential impact at
speed, a vehicle in a second travelling a considerable distance. The sort of statistical modelling applied to
try to quantify the potential benefits FBLs might deliver can be criticized but
there has been more than one research project and while the details have differed, all suggested there would be a reduction in vehicle crashes and
logically, that should translate into less damage and fewer deaths &
injuries. Paradoxically, were that to be
realized, one direct effect would be a reduction in GDP (gross domestic
product) because the economic activity generated (in industries such as
medicine, car repair, funeral homes etc) wouldn’t happen although some of all
of that should be off-set by the ongoing workforce participation by those not
killed or hospitalized.
What FBLs would do is made
it easier for drivers to detect another vehicle’s braking from front and side
angles, making them more likely to react if a potential situation drama is thus
anticipated. Obviously red lights at the
front would be a bad idea (although some service vehicles are so equipped) and
clear or amber lens could be ambiguous so the usual suggestion is green,
previously used only by a small number of medical personnel. There were
concerns about the use of green because it was speculated there might
(especially in conditions of low visibility) be potential for them to be
confused with the green (Go) of traffic signals used at intersections but to
assess the veracity of that may require testing in real-world conditions.
1968 Citroën
DS20 Break (left) and 1958 DeSoto Firesweep Explorer Station Wagon (right).
In 1958, a station wagon version of the DS & ID was released; because of
historic regional variations in terminology, in different places it was
marketed as the Break (France), Safari or Estate (UK), Station Wagon (North America)
and Safari or Station Wagon (Australia) but between markets there were only detail differences. Because of the top-hinged tailgate, to mount the
clignotants in the high positions
used on the saloons would have been difficult so they were integrated into a vertical
stack of three in a conventional location.
In style the lens and the modest “fins” in which they sat recalled the
arrangement DeSoto in the US had made their signature since late 1955 although
it’s unlikely the US design had much influence on what was for Citroën a
pragmatic solution for a vehicle then regarded as having most appeal as a Commerciale. The French certainly weren’t drawn to fins as
macropterous as some Detroit had encouraged theirs to grow to by 1958.
Finettes: Bossaert's tail lights from the parts bin of Fiat (left) and BMC (right).
Convertibles
of course lack a roof so the clignotants couldn’t
continue in their eye-catching place with topless coachwork and their placement
on the DS & ID varied in accordance with how the rear coachwork was
handled. Bossaert took a conventional
approach and emulated a look familiar on many European roadsters & cabriolets.
For the GT 19 the taillights (known as carrellos) came from the Fiat
Pininfarina Coupé & Cabriolet (1959-1966), a vertical style which in the
era appeared on a number of cars including Ferraris, Peugeots and Rovers. For his other take on a convertible DS,
Bossaert reached over the English Channel and from the BMC (British Motor
Corporation) parts bin selected the units used by the Wolseley Hornet &
Riley Elf (luxury versions of the Mini (1959-2000), built between 1969-1969
which, as well as the expected leather & burl walnut veneer trim, had an
extended tail with distinctly brachypterous “finettes”). The success of the Hornet & Elf in
class-conscious England encouraged BMC in 1964 to go even more up-market and have
their in-house coach-builder Vanden Plas produce a version of the Austin 1100
(ADO16, 1963-1974) and all the ADO16s until 1967 shared their taillights with
the Hornet and Elf. Although visually similar
to those used between 1962-1970 on MG’s MGB (1962-1980) & MGC (1967-1969); they
are different, the Hornet/Elf/ADO16 units being the Lucas L549 while the MGs
used the L550. Between 1961-1966, the MG
Midget (1961-1980) used the L549 and between 1966-1970 the L550.
1970
Chapron Citroën DS20 Décapotable Usine
(left), 1962 Chapron Citroën DS19 Concorde (with clignotants rouge, right)
and 1965 Chapron Citroën DS21 Le Caddy (with clignotants ambre, right).
Chapron’s
approach to clignotant placement varied
with rear coachwork. On the volume
models officially supported by the factory, two small lens were fitted within
chrome housings, mounted on opposite sides at the base of the soft-top. For his more exclusive Le Caddy & Concorde
with squared-off rear quarters (al la the “modernizing” look Mercedes-Benz applied
to the 300 Adenauer W186, 1951-1957) to create the 300d (1957-1962)) Chapron
re-purposed one of the existing taillights, using a still-lawful red lens on
many although later models switched to amber.
1973
Citroën DS23 Pallas "landaulet" (in the style of that once used by the French president, left), 2010 Maybach 62 S Landaulet
(to right), John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) in Papal 1965
Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL Landaulet (bottom left) and Pope Paul VI (1897-1978; pope
1963-1978) in 1966 Mercedes-Benz 600 Landaulet (bottom right).
From the
moment it first was shown in 1955 the DS has intrigued and it’s the various
convertibles which attract most attention.
To this day, the things remain a symbol which quintessentially is French
and at least two have been converted into “full-roof” landaulets for tourists
to be escorted around Paris. The
landaulet (a car with a removable roof which retains the side window frames) was
a fixture on coach-building lists during the 1920s & 1930s but became rare in
the post-war years; of late the only ones produced in any volume were the 59
Mercedes-Benz 600s (1963-1981) which came in “short” and “long” (though not
full) roof versions although there was a revival, 22 Maybach 62 S Landaulets
built between 2011-2022, one of which was even right-hand-drive (RHD). Considering the price and specialized nature
of the variant, that there were 22 made makes the Landaulet more a success than
the unfortunate "standard" Maybachs which managed only some 3300 between 2002-2013. The Papal Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL (W109) Landaulet
was a gift from the factory but it was for years little used because the next year
a very special 600 (W100) Pullman Landaulet was provided and this much more
spacious limousine was preferred. The
papal 600 was unique in that it was one of the “high roof” state versions and
fitted with longer rear doors, a “throne” in the rear compartment which,
mounted on an elevated floor, could be raised or lowered as Hid Holiness
percolated through crowed streets. It
was the latest in a long line of limousines and landaulets the factory provided
for the Holy See and remains one of the best known; returned to the factory in 1985, it’s now on
permanent display at the Mercedes-Benz museum in Stuttgart. Use of the 600 became infrequent after the
attempted assassination of John Paul II (1981).
As a stopgap, the 300 SEL quickly was armor-plated and used occasionally
until the arrival of “Popemobiles” in which the pontiff sat in an elevated
compartment with bullet-proof glass sides.
Despite that, Mercedes-Benz have since delivered two S-Class (a V126
& V140) landaulets to the Vatican. Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) has no taste for limousines or much else which is extravagant and prefers small, basic cars although to ensure security the bullet-proof Popemobiles remain essential and in 2024 Mercedes-Benz presented the Holy See with a fully-electric model, based on the new W465 G-Class. The Vatican is planning to have transitioned to a zero-emission vehicle fleet by 2030.
1974 Citroën
DS23 Pallas: the one-off Australian “semi-phaeton”.
In
Australia, someone created something really unique: a DS “semi-phaeton”. While the definition became looser until
eventually it became merely a model name which meant nothing beyond some
implication of exclusivity & high price, the term “phaeton” (borrowed from
the age of the horse-drawn buggy) referred to a vehicle with no top or side
windows. By the late 1930s, when last
they were on the books as regular production models, the “phaetons” had gained
folding tops and often removable side windows but they’d also lost market
appeal and except for the odd few built for ceremonial purposes (the most
memorable the three Chrysler Imperial Parade Phaetons built in 1952 and still occasionally
used), there was no post-war revival.
The Australian creation was based on a 1974 DS23 Pallas and had no soft-top
or rear-side windows but the front-side units remained operative. The rear doors were changed to hinge from the
rear (the so-called “suicide doors”; the external handles removed from all four),
an indication the engineering was more intricate than many of the “four-door
convertibles” made over the years by decapitating a sedan; the sales blurb did
note the platform was “strengthened”, something essential when a structural
component like a roof is removed.
The Citroën SM, a few of which were decapitated
1972 Citroën SM (left) & 1971 Citroën SM Mylord by Carrosserie Chapron (right). The wheels are
the Michelin RR (roues en résine or résine renforcée (reinforced resin))
composites, cast using a patented technology invented by NASA for the original
moon buggy. The Michelin wheel was
one-piece and barely a third the weight of the equivalent steel wheel but the
idea never caught on, doubts existing about their long-term durability and susceptibility
to extreme heat (the SM had inboard brakes).
Upon
release in 1971, immediately the Citroën SM was recognized as among the
planet's most intricate and intriguing cars.
A descendant of the DS which in 1955 had been even more of a sensation,
it took Citroën not only up-market but into a niche the SM had created, nothing
quite like it previously existing, the combination of a large (in European
terms), front-wheel-drive (FWD) luxury coupé with hydro-pneumatic suspension,
self-centreing (Vari-Power) steering, high-pressure braking and a four-cam V6
engine, a mix unique in the world. The engine
had been developed by Maserati, one of Citroën’s recent acquisitions and the
name acknowledged the Italian debt, SM standing for Systemé Maserati. Although,
given the size and weight of the SM, the V6 was of modest displacement to
attract lower taxes (initially 2.7 litres (163 cubic inch)) and power was
limited (181 HP (133 kW)) compared to the competition, such was the slipperiness
of the body's aerodynamics that in terms of top speed, it was at least a match
for most.
1973 Citroën SM with reproduction RR wheels in aluminium.
However,
lacking the high-performance pedigree enjoy by some of that competition, a
rallying campaign had been planned as a promotional tool. Although obviously unsuited to circuit
racing, the big, heavy SM didn’t immediately commend itself as a rally car;
early tests indicated some potential but there was a need radically to reduce
weight. One obvious candidate was the
steel wheels but attempts to use lightweight aluminum units proved abortive,
cracking encountered when tested under rally conditions. Michelin immediately offered to develop
glass-fibre reinforced resin wheels, the company familiar with the material
which had proved durable when tested under extreme loads. Called the Michelin RR (roues resin (resin
wheel)), the new wheels were created as a one-piece mold, made entirely of
resin except for some embedded steel reinforcements at the stud holes to
distribute the stresses. At around 9.4
lb (4¼ kg) apiece, they were less than half the weight of a steel wheel and in
testing proved as strong and reliable as Michelin had promised. Thus satisfied, Citroën went rallying.
Citroën SM,
Morocco Rally, 1971.
The
improbable rally car proved a success, winning first time out in the 1971
Morocco Rally and further success followed.
Strangely, the 1970s proved an era of heavy cruisers doing well in the
sport, Mercedes-Benz winning long-distance events with their 450 SLC 5.0 which
was both the first V8 and the first car with an automatic transmission to win a
European rally. Stranger still, Ford in
Australia re-purposed one of the Falcon GTHO Phase IV race cars which had
become redundant when the programme was cancelled in 1972 and the thing proved
surprisingly competitive during the brief periods it was mobile although the lack of
suitable tyres meant repeatedly the sidewalls would fail; the car was written off after a serious crash. The SM, GTHO & SLC proved a
quixotic tilt and the sport went a different direction. On the SM however, the resin wheels had
proved their durability, not one failing during the whole campaign and
encouraged by customer requests, Citroën in 1972 offered the wheels as a
factory option although only in Europe; apparently the thought of asking the US
federal safety regulators to approve plastic wheels (as they’d already been
dubbed by the motoring press) seemed to the French so absurd they never
bothered to submit an application.
1974
prototype Citroën SM with 4.0 V8.
Ambitious
as it was, circumstances combined in a curious way that might have made the SM
more remarkable still. By 1973, sales of
the SM, after an encouraging start had for two years been in decline, a
reputation for unreliability already tarnishing its reputation but the first
oil shock dealt what appeared to be a fatal blow; from selling almost 5000 in
1971, by 1974 production numbered not even 300.
The market for fast, thirsty cars had shrunk and most of the
trans-Atlantic hybrids (combining elegant European coachwork with large,
powerful and cheap US V8s), which had for more than a decade done good business
as alternative to the highly strung British and Italian thoroughbreds, had been
driven extinct. Counter-intuitively,
Citroën’s solution was to develop an even thirstier V8 SM and that actually
made sense because, in an attempt to amortize costs, the SM’s platform had
been used as the basis for the new Maserati Quattroporte but, bigger and
heavier still, performance was sub-standard and the theory was a V8 version
would transform both and appeal to the US market, then the hope of many
struggling European manufacturers.
Recreation
of 1974 Citroën SM V8 prototype.
Citroën
didn’t have a V8; Maserati did but it was big and heavy, a relic with origins in racing and while its (never wholly tamed) raucous qualities suited the
character of the sports cars and saloons Maserati offered in the 1960s, it
couldn’t be used in something like the SM.
However, the SM’s V6 was a 90o
unit and thus inherently better suited to
an eight-cylinder configuration. In 1974
therefore, a four litre (244 cubic inch) V8 based on the V6 (by then 3.0 litres
(181 cubic inch)) was quickly built and installed in an SM which was subjected
to the usual battery of tests over a reported 20,000 km (12,000 miles) during
which it was said to have performed faultlessly. Bankruptcy (to which the SM, along with some
of the company's other ventures, notably the GZ Wankel programme, contributed)
however was the death knell for both the SM and the V8, the prototype car
scrapped while the unique engine was removed and stored, later used to create a
replica of the 1974 test mule.
Evidence
does however suggest a V8 SM would likely have been a failure, just compounding
the existing error on an even grander scale.
It’s true that Oldsmobile and Cadillac had offered big FWD coupés with
great success since the mid 1960s (the Cadillac at one point fitted with a 500
cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 rated at what sounds an alarming 400 HP (300 kW)) but they were very
different machines to the SM and appealed to a different market. Probably the first car to explore what demand
might have existed for a V8 SM was the hardly successful 1986 Lancia Thema 8·32 which used the Ferrari 308's 2.9 litre (179 cubic inch) V8 in a FWD platform. Although well-executed within the limitations
the configuration imposed, it was about a daft an idea as it sounds although it did hint at what a success a V8 Fiat 130 saloon (1969-1976) & coupé (1971-1977) might have been if sold with a Lancia badge. Even had the V8 SM been all-wheel-drive (AWD)
it would probably still have been a failure but it would now be remembered as a
revolution ahead of its time. As it is,
the whole SM story is just another cul-de-sac, albeit one which has become a
(mostly) fondly-regarded cult.
State Citroëns by Carrosserie Chapron: 1968 Citroën DS state limousine (left) and 1972
Citroën SM Présidentielle (right).
In
the summer of 1971, after years of slowing sales, Citroën announced the end of the
décapotable usine and Chapron’s business
model suffered, the market for specialized coach-building, in decline since the
1940s, now all but evaporated. Chapron developed
a convertible version of Citroën’s new SM called the Mylord but, very expensive, it was little more successful than the car
on which it was based; although engineered to Chapron’s high standard, fewer
than ten were built. Government
contracts did for a while seem to offer hope.
Charles De Gaulle (1890–1970; President of France 1958-1969) had been
aghast at the notion the state car of France might be bought from Germany or
the US (it’s not known which idea he thought most appalling and apparently
nobody bothered to suggest buying British) so, at his instigation, Chapron (apparently without great enthusiasm) built
a long wheelbase DS Presidential model.
Size matters: Citroën DS Le Presidentielle (left) and LBJ era stretched Lincoln Continental by Lehmann-Peterson of Chicago (right).
Begun
in 1965, the project took three years, legend having it that de Gaulle himself stipulated
little more than it be longer than the stretched Lincoln Continentals then used
by the White House (John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Lincoln Continental X-100 modified by Hess and Eisenhardt) and this was achieved, despite the requirement the turning
circle had to be tight enough to enter the Elysée Palace’s courtyard from the
Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré and then pull up at the steps in a single maneuver. Although
size mattered on the outside, De Gaulle’s sense of “grandeur de la France” didn’t extend to what lay under the hood, Le
Presidentielle DS retaining the 2.1 litre (133 cubic inch) 4 cylinder engine but
he’d probably have scorned the 7.5 litre (462 cubic inch) V8 by then in
Lincolns as typical American vulgarity.
As it was, although delivered to the Élysée in time for the troubles of 1968, Chapron’s DS was barely used by De Gaulle because he disliked
the partition separating him from the chauffeur and he preferred either the
earlier limousines built in the 1950s by Franay and Chapron (both based on the
earlier Citroën Traction Avant 15/6) or a DS landaulet (with full-length folding roof)
in which he could stand up and look down on the (hopefully) cheering crowds
lining the road.
However, the slinky lines must have been admired because in 1972 Chapron was commissioned to supply two really
big four-door convertible Le Presidentielle SMs as the state limousines for Le Général’s successor, Georges Pompidou
(1911–1974; President of France 1969-1974).
First used for 1972 state visit of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), they remained in regular service until the inauguration of Jacques
Chirac (1932–2019; President of France 1995-2007) in 1995, seen again on the Champs
Elysees in 2004 during Her Majesty’s three-day state visit marking the centenary
of the Entente Cordiale.
1972 Citroën SM Opera
by Carrosserie Chapron (left) & 1973 Maserati Quattroporte
II (right). This is the Quattroporte which was slated to receive the V8 tested in the SM.
Despite that, state contracts for the odd limousine, while individually lucrative, were
not a model to sustain a coach building business and a year after the Mylord was first displayed, Chapron inverted
his traditional practice and developed from a coupé, a four-door SM called the Opera. On a longer wheelbase, stylistically it was
well executed but was heavy and both performance and fuel consumption suffered,
the additional bulk also meaning some agility was lost. Citroën was never much devoted to the project
because they had in the works what was essentially their own take on a
four-door SM, sold as the Maserati Quattroporte
II (the Italian house having earlier been absorbed) but as things transpired in
those difficult years, neither proved a success, only eight Operas and a
scarcely more impressive thirteen Quattroporte
IIs ever built. The French machine deserved more, the Italian knock-off, probably not. In 1974, Citroën entered bankruptcy, dragged down in part
by the debacle which the ambitious SM had proved to be although there had been
other debacles worse still.
That
other quintessential symbol of France, Bridget Bardot (b 1934) in La Déesse with a lit Gitanes.
The combination of a car, a woman with JBF
and a cigarette continued to draw photographers even after smoking ceased to be
glamorous and became a social crime. First
sold in 1910, Gitanes production in France survived two world wars, the Great
Depression, Nazi occupation but the regime of Jacques Chirac (1932–2019;
President of France 1995-2007) proved too much and, following the assault on
tobacco by Brussels and Paris, in 2005 the factory in Lille was shuttered. Although Gitanes (and the sister cigarette
Gauloise) remain available in France, they are now shipped from Spain and while
in most of the Western world fewer now smoke, Gitanes Blondes retain a cult
following. Three years after the last SM left the factory, Henri
Chapron died in Paris, his much down-sized company lingering on for some years under
the direction of his industrious widow, the bulk of its work now customizing Citroën CXs. Operations ceased in 1985 but the legacy is
much admired and the décapotables remain
a favorite of collectors and film-makers searching for something with which to evoke
the verisimilitude of 1960s France.
Grave of Monsieur et Madame Arbelot, Cimetière du Père Lachaise, Paris.
In most
circumstances, the sight of a husband staring at the decapitated head of his
wife which he’s holding aloft before his eyes would be at least confronting and
usually an indication he may have committed at least one offence but there is,
carved in stone in a Parisian cemetery, one such decapitation which is romantic. In the Cimetière
du Père Lachaise (Rueil-Malmaison, Departement des Hauts-de-Seine) lie the
graves of Fernand (Louis) Arbelot (1880-1942) and his wife Henriette Marie
Louise Gicquel (1885-1967), the couple married in the city in August 1919. It was during her funeral in 1967 they finally
were reunited and the bronze statue of a recumbent Monsieur Arbelot holding in
his hands the face of his beloved is a monument to his one wish when dying: to
forever gaze upon the face of his wife. The epitaph on the grave reads: Ils furent
émerveillés du beau voyage qui les mena jusqu’au bout de la vie (They
were amazed by the beautiful journey that led them to the end of life).
Epitaph on grave of Monsieur et Madame Arbelot, Cimetière du Père Lachaise, Paris.
Established
in 1803 by Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821; leader of the French Republic
1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815) and named
after the Jesuit priest, Père François de la Chaise (1624–1709) who was confessor
to Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil
(the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715), at 40 hectares (100 acres), Père Lachaise remains Paris's largest
cemetery and contains over a million internments. Apart from the obvious matter of the many dead,
it’s of interest to historians of town planning because as a piece of landscape
architecture, it represented an change of approach from the old, over-crowded
medieval churchyards in which corpses had for centuries be piled one atop the
other. Although not strictly true, the
place has come to be regarded as the first “garden”
or “landscape” cemetery and even the
French admit there was influence from the eighteenth century country houses of
the English aristocracy & landed gentry, the grounds of which were characterized
by irregular, winding paths and picturesque gardens with a seemingly (and
sometime literally) random, naturalistic approach to plantings. It was also one of Napoleon’s more
far-sighted decisions because although initially unpopular because of its
distance from the city, Paris quickly expanded to “meet” it and the vast space
made possible to purchase of individual plots, once a privilege available only
to the rich.
Grave
of Monsieur et Madame Arbelot, Cimetière
du Père Lachaise, Paris.
Attracting
each year more than four million tourists, Cimetière du Père Lachaise is one of
the world’s more-visited graveyards and it features frequently on Instagram
& TikTok, the favoured dead celebrities including the Irish author Oscar
Wilde (1854-1900) although his memorial is now less photogenic because the
carving of a sleeping winged sphinx had to be placed behind plexiglass to
prevent the “theft
of certain private parts” and protect it from the lipstick-covered
kisses of devotees (left by women as well as men it’s said). Other popular fan-graves include those of Polish
composer Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849), US singer Jim Morrison (1943-1971), Italian
artist of the Paris School Amedeo Modigliani (1884–1920), French singer Édith
Piaf (1915–1963), French novelist Marcel Proust (1871–1922), US writer Gertrude
Stein (1874–1946) and the French pioneer of sociology Auguste Comte (1798–1857).
Judith and the decapitation of Holofernes
In the Bible, the deuterocanonical books (literally “belonging
to the second canon”) are those books and passages traditionally
regarded as the canonical texts of the Old Testament, some of which long
pre-date Christianity, some composed during the “century of overlap” before
the separation between the Christian church and Judaism became institutionalized. As the Hebrew canon evolved, the seven
deuterocanonical books were excluded and on this basis were not included
in the Protestant Old Testament, those denominations regarding them as apocrypha
and they’re been characterized as such since.
Canonical or not, the relationship of the texts to the New Testament has
long interested biblical scholars, none denying that links exist but there’s
wide difference in interpretation, some finding (admittedly while giving
the definition of "allusion" wide latitude) a continuity of thread, others only
fragmentary references and even then, some paraphrasing is dismissed as having
merely a literary rather than historical or theological purpose.
Le Retour de Judith à
Béthulie (The Return of Judith to
Bethulia) (1470) by Botticelli, (circa 1444-1510).
The Book of Judith exists
thus in the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Old Testaments but is assigned
(relegated some of the hard-liners might say) by Protestants to the apocrypha. It is the tale of Judith (יְהוּדִית
in the Hebrew and the feminine of Judah), a legendarily beautiful Jewish widow who uses her charms to
lure the Assyrian General Holofernes to his gruesome death (decapitated by her
own hand) so her people may be saved. As
a text, the Book of Judith is interesting in that it’s a genuine literary
innovation, a lengthy and structured thematic narrative evolving from the one
idea, something different from the old episodic tradition of loosely linked
stories. That certainly reflects the
influence of Hellenistic literary techniques and the Book of Judith may be
thought a precursor of the historical novel: A framework of certain agreed
facts upon a known geography on which an emblematic protagonist (Judith the feminine
form of the national hero Judah) performs.
The atmosphere of crisis and undercurrent of belligerence lends the work
a modern feel while theologically, it’s used to teach the importance of
fidelity to the Lord and His commandments, a trust in God and how one must
always be combative in defending His word.
It’s not a work of history, something made clear in the first paragraph;
this is a parable.
Judit decapitando a
Holofernes (Judith Beheading
Holofernes) (circa 1600) by Caravaggio (Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio,
1571–1610).
The facts of the climactic moment in the decapitation of General
Holofernes are not in dispute, Judith at the appropriate moment drawing the
general’s own sword, beheading him as he lay recumbent, passed out from too
much drink. Deed done, the assassin dropped the separated head in a leather basket and stole away. The dramatic tale for centuries has attracted
painters and sculptors, the most famous works created during the high Renaissance
and Baroque periods and artists have tended to depict either Judith acting
alone or in the company of her aged maid, a difference incidental to the murder
but of some significance in the interpretation of preceding events.
Judit si presenta a
Holofernes (Judith Presenting Herself
to Holofernes) (circa 1724) by Antonio Gionima (1697–1732).
All agree the picturesque widow was able to gain access to the tent of Holofernes because of the
general’s carnal desires but in the early centuries of Christianity, there’s
little hint that Judith resorted to the role of seductress, only that she lured
him to temptation, plied him with drink and struck. The sexualization of the moment came later
and little less controversial was the unavoidable juxtaposition of the masculine
aggression of the blade-wielding killer with her feminine charms. Given the premise of the tale and its moral
imperative, the combination can hardly be avoided but it was for centuries
disturbing to (male) theologians and priests, rarely at ease with bolshie women. It was during the high Renaissance that
artists began to vest Judith with an assertive sexuality (“from Mary to Eve” in
the words of one critic), her features becoming blatantly beautiful, the
clothing more revealing. The Judith of the Renaissance and the Baroque appears one
more likely to surrender her chastity to the cause where once she would have
relied on guile and wine.
Judith (1928) by Franz von Stuck (1863–1928).
It was in the Baroque
period that the representations more explicitly made possible the mixing of sex
and violence in the minds of viewers, a combination that across media platforms
remains today as popular as ever. For
centuries “Judith beheading Holofernes” was one of the set pieces of Western
Art and there were those who explored the idea with references to David & Goliath
(another example of the apparently weak decapitating the strong) or alluding to
Salome, showing Judith or her maid carrying off the head in a basket. The inventiveness proved not merely artistic because,
in the wake of the ruptures caused by the emergent Protestant heresies, in the counter-attack
by the Counter-Reformation, the parable was re-imagined in commissions issued by the Holy See, Judith’s blade
defeating not only Assyrian oppression but all unbelievers, heretical Protestants
just the most recently vanquished. Twentieth
century artists too have used Judith as a platform, predictably perhaps
sometimes to show her as the nemesis of toxic masculinity and some have
obviously enjoyed the idea of an almost depraved sexuality but there have been
some quite accomplished versions.
