FRENCH CHARM
PRETTY AS A PICTURE YET HAPPY AS A PUG IN MUD, THE 404 BECAME THE DEFINITIVE PEUGEOT, AND ONE OF THE FINEST SEDANS OF THE ’60S
It must’ve been quite a shock when the Peugeot 404 first surfaced on the Continent in 1960 – not because its finned tail stood in sharp contrast to the conservative, rounded-edge shape of its 403 predecessor (1955-67) but because the 404’s styling theme had been seen before.
The ‘Farina’ look, as it became known, penned by Italian designer Battista ‘Pinin’ Farina, was reportedly commissioned by Peugeot to ensure that the 404 exuded a timeless, functional elegance – qualities that have since become hallmarks of Peugeot’s greatest cars.
But what the French firm didn’t see coming was the appearance of this crisp three-box aesthetic, crowned by a pair of tail fins, on two rival products prior to the 404’s release. And what do you do when you see a car for the first time? Pick out all the bits that remind you of other cars!
Ultimately, it didn’t matter that the BMC ‘Farina’ sedans (beginning with the Wolseley 15/60 in December ’58), and the Fiat 1800/2100 (’59) predated Peugeot’s 404 by more than a year. They all had their own strong points, though the French interpretation was the best of the three – not only for the considered elegance of its styling but also its mechanical sophistication, its superb packaging and, as time would prove, its ruggedness. The Peugeot would go on to out live, and outsell, the Fiat and BMC versions by many years, and many millions.
As was the fashion at the time, the 404’s Aussie connection didn’t kick off for another two years. Hitting showrooms in November 1962, the 404 joined the lower priced 403 on the assembly line
"THE 404 DELIVERED A CINEMASCOPIC VIEW OF THE WORLD"
at Continental & General’s plant in the Melbourne suburb of Heidelberg, and was immediately praised for its leap in ability over its much-praised older sibling.
With a prominent beltline, generous glass area, and one-piece front door windows, the 404 delivered a cinemascopic view of the world – topped and tailed by its high-mounted headlights and discreet tail fins. This worked in beautiful harmony with its supple, luxurious seating and brilliant ride comfort, without detracting from the 404’s cornering ability. And with rack-andpinion steering – still unusual for a family car of the early ’60s – the 404 offered precision too.
Hitting the market at $2900 for the sedan or $2996 for an extended-wheelbase station wagon – each around a $450 premium over the continuing 403 equivalent – the 404 was presented as a more sophisticated alternative to a Holden EJ Premier ($2838), Ford Falcon Futura ($2730), Wolseley 24/80 ($2680) or the soon-to-launch Chrysler AP5 Valiant Regal ($2996), despite the fact that all those six-cylinder cars were available with automatic transmissions. In defiance, the 404 championed a ‘wet sleeve’ 1618cc alloy-head four-cylinder engine producing 72hp (54kW ), tied to an all-synchro, column-shift four-speed manual.
The 404 didn’t have the straight-line sprint potential of a slant-six Valiant but it definitely had legs. Excellent torque delivery, a decent mid-range and the ability to comfortably cruise at 80mph (128km/h), or beyond, with a degree of fuel efficiency and low levels of wind and road noise made it a fantastic cross-country express. And the Peugeot proved its worth in town, too, with a super-tight turning circle adding to its virtues of effortless driveability and lush ride absorbency.
"COMPLEX LOCAL CONTENT REGULATIONS KILLED THE 404 WITHIN WEEKS"
The 404 quickly earned a loyal and admiring Australian fan base, and as the ’60s progressed, word of its all-round excellence began to spread. The Continental & General factory that assembled Peugeots (and Renaults, Citroens, NSUs, and Studebakers at various times) was bought by Renault Australia in 1964, yet it continued to produce the 404 in ever-greater numbers (often with a waiting list), spurred on by a price realignment to $2550 in 1965 and consistent mechanical and detail improvements.
Round Jaeger instruments replaced an antique strip speedo in early ’67, joining a tweaked engine with a higher 8.3:1 compression ratio, more power and torque (80hp, or 60kW, at 5600rpm and 131Nm at 2500rpm), lower first and second gear ratios, and a 3mm-thicker front anti-roll bar. A padded steering wheel appeared later that year, followed by a new gearbox and shift linkages, a hydraulic diaphragm clutch, and stronger windscreen wipers. But the best was saved for the 404’s final act.
The last Australian 404s (1969-70) are most easily identified by vented wheels, alluding to the power-assisted disc brakes up front. But they also received an alternator (instead of a generator), new anti-burst door locks, recessed internal door handles, plastic window winders, and excellent moulded door armrests with integrated grab handles – as featured on the Arctic White 1969 model pictured here. Indeed, with its black-overchocolate colour palette and fresh door treatment, the final 404 appeared ready to take on the ’70s with gusto.
It wasn’t meant to be. With the new-generation 504’s arrival set for mid-1970, Renault Australia (which handled Peugeot production and distribution) hoped to extend the 404’s lifespan to at least the end of that year, or beyond. But needlessly complex local content regulations killed the 404 within weeks (Renault had hoped, unsuccessfully, that the bureaucrats would view the 404 and 504 as completely different cars, which they were).
Once people caught wind of the 404’s demise, buyers clamoured to snap up the final batch – no surprise given the incoming 504’s launch price of $3855 and the outgoing 404’s Kingwood-rivalling $2599 ask. And once production finished, demand continued to increase, with some dealers asking $600 more than its retail price, and getting it. Finally, buyers could see what the motoring press had long been hammering on about – that the 404 offered unsurpassed value-for-money, backed by the strongest resale value of any car on the market.
But what was it that endeared the finny Peugeot to so many people? Right from the outset, enthusiasts and motoring journalists adored it. In its February 1966 road test of the more powerful 76hp model (launched mid-’65),