Between 1930 and 1934, drivers could go as fast as they liked anywhere in Britain. For four years, there was no speed limit at all

Back in the 1950s, when I would hear grown-ups calling it ‘The Old Crocks’ Race’, the London to Brighton Veteran Car Run seemed to be something exciting and rather exotic. To my young mind, the event and the cars in it deserved more respect than my elders and betters gave to it. I did suffer as a child, you see, having to wait until I was almost grown-up myself before I could slip away and spend the rest of my life in the company of properly civilised motoring people.

At last I have taken a veteran to Brighton myself, thanks to an invitation to drive the world’s oldest surviving Mercedes, the 1902 Simplex. Probably the best racing car of its time, it set the pattern for what would later be seen as the conventional car. Its mechanical layout, with a front-mounted four-cylinder engine and four-speed gearbox driving the rear wheels, was widely copied.

The Brighton Run never was a race. The original Emancipation Run of 1896 celebrated the removal of a legal requirement for a pedestrian with a red flag, walking 60 yards ahead of every car. And the speed limit was raised from 4mph to 14mph.

The prospect of the 2010 Run prompted me to investigate ancient British speed limits. What I found surprised me. The national speed limit went up to 20mph in 1903 and remained the law right through what we now call the vintage era. By then, both drivers and the police ignored it. So Parliament passed the Road Traffic Act of 1930, abolishing speed limits altogether.

Until 1934, then, when the 30mph limit was imposed in built-up areas, drivers could go as fast as they liked anywhere in Britain.
It was against the law to be drunk or reckless when driving but, for those four years, there was no speed limit at all.

Back in 1896, the significance of the original Brighton Run was obvious. It’s still relevant today, but for different reasons. Although everybody who was alive then has long gone, it remains a vivid reminder of how motoring started. The diversity of design and the ingenuity of the engineers who devised those early machines is staggering when you look at the hundreds of cars taking part.

Before 1905, there were cars powered by steam and by electricity. The petrol engine soon proved itself superior but, incredibly enough, I have read that there was a nationwide network of electric vehicle recharging points throughout England over a century ago. Petrol, in those days, was bought in cans from chemists’ shops.

Driving the 60 miles from Hyde Park to Brighton in a 1902 car today is possibly easier than it was a century ago. Stopping and starting in heavy traffic is now the biggest problem but, thanks to the helpful presence of police and RAC officials, getting out of Central London was simple enough.

After that it wasn’t so easy. As those early clutches don’t like much stop/start treatment, I concentrated on trying to avoid having to stop. As a first-timer on the Run, I’m still not entirely clear of the etiquette required. The rule appears to be ‘every man for himself’. Approaching red lights, I tried to leave a gap ahead so that I could keep rolling along. Frequently, that gap was filled by veteran cars whose drivers seized every chance to nip in front. My passengers sometimes had to get down and push, enabling me to select first.

In Brixton, I noticed the rather sad sight of two brass rear lamps lying in the road, completely flattened by the passing traffic. Quite a few cars were already stopping by the roadside, requiring attention, but the vast majority eventually made it to Brighton.

Once outside London, the superior performance of the Mercedes was obvious and we pressed on at a good rate. My image of the Brighton Run is of exposed, frozen people battling through rain and I was dressed up to survive anything. It was cold but I never felt it. In fact we were lucky this year, with the sun shining most of the time. Whatever the weather, this is always one of Britain’s greatest events and the route was lined with waving spectators.

On Brighton seafront we had warm sunshine. Even so, it was curiously hard to get down from the driving seat. My legs were almost powerless. Two days later, I still feel knackered through just about every muscle in my body. Perhaps they were made of sterner stuff 108 years ago.

TONY DRON

Having started his racing career in Formula Ford, Tony made a name for himself in 1970s Touring Cars and since then has raced an astonishing variety of sports and historic machinery. He is also a hugely respected journalist.