Behold, Wagon Wednesday’s ultimate warrior: a 1937 Hispano-Suiza K6, complete with an original, one-of-one woody wagon body by Franay. Technically, it’s not a “wagon” but a “Break De Chasse,” which is French for “Shooting Brake,” and no doubt it was intended as a utility for hunting and other activities. There might be more opulent longroofs, but you’d probably have to go to the Sultan of Brunei’s warehouse to find them. Instead, we went to California’s Mullin Museum shortly before it closed in 2024.

Ironically, the K6 was meant to be a simplified, lower-end model when it was new. In the mid-1930s, the French side of the company was struggling with a bunch of amazingly exotic cars that very few people could afford, but all Hispanos are serious exotica today. 1937 was the last full year of production at Bois-Colombes before the French side became strictly an aero-engine company, though the Spanish side continued on longer.

While cars like this are still blue-chip collector cars and probably always will be, there isn’t as much interest in pre-war exotics as there once was. Their stories are still worth telling, however, and this Hispano is still a work of art.

Marc Birkigt

Though often thought of as a French automaker, and this K6 was built in France, Hispano-Suiza means “Spanish-Swiss,” and was founded in Barcelona by Swiss engineer Marc Birkigt, along with financial manager Damián Mateu in 1904. Born in Geneva in 1878, Birkigt was mechanically gifted from an early age and graduated from engineering school in 1898, briefly working in the watch trade and as a gunsmith during his military service, but it was railways and electric locomotive work that brought him to Spain.

Hispano-Suiza was an outgrowth of two earlier failed ventures Birkigt had worked for. The first was an electric vehicle company, La Cuadra, that wanted to make an electric bus, later followed by a two-cylinder, Panhard-like car. When that failed the company was taken over by José María Castro Fernández, who took over and had Birkigt engineer another car, the four-cylinder Castro, only for his finances to fail and the firm become Hispano-Suiza in June 1904.

Birkigt was an engineer on par with Frederick Henry Royce or W.O. Bentley, and the early Hispanos boasted lots of innovations, including combining the engine and gearbox into a structural unit that could add rigidity to the chassis, and they were well-liked. The company’s fortunes were greatly boosted when King Alfonso XIII bought a trio of 20-24 Tourers at the 1905 Barcelona show, and when Birkigt designed his first truly great sporting car in 1908, he returned the favor by naming the T-headed, high-revving monster the “Alfonso XIII.”

From Spain to France

Royal patronage was great, but Spain was a poor country with terrible roads, and Hispanos were expensive cars. In 1911, the firm set up a satellite factory at Levallois-Perret in Paris and later moved to Bois-Colombes, with Birkigt soon taking up residence there. While the Alfonsos and other Hispano Suizas had lots of competition success, WW1 was spent mainly on aero engines, and Birkigt’s overhead-cam airplane V8s were light, powerful, and durable, and their design later informed Hispano’s cars.

After the war, the ultimate Hispano-Suiza car, the H6, debuted in 1919. Production would last until 1933, although a few were finished in 1934, and if you had enough money, you could buy one as a one-off even later.

With 6.6 or 8.0-liter straight sixes, the H6s were glamorous in the same way Isotta-Fraschinis were, but often much nicer to drive and far superior handlers thanks to their very rigid frame, friction dampers, and other advances. Hispano-Suiza was an early adopter of four-wheel brakes and brake boosters, and H6s could hit up to 85 mph. They were also beautiful, and when Harley Earl was tapped to design the 1927 LaSalle, he essentially copied the H6.

Over time, the Spanish and French factories, separated by management and geography, grew apart in ways that few modern concerns would. Barcelona often fielded a wider range of more humble products and also built lots of commercial trucks and wagons. Bois-Colombes built only the finest cars and aeronautical engines. In many cases, Spain built a design far longer than France would. Both were happy for the success of the H6, and there were many other types in the 1920s that came and went.

Hispano-Suiza K6

The depression threw a big monkey wrench into this situation just as Bois-Colombes was getting ready to launch the 54CV, 9.4-liter V-12-powered J12 in 1931. Although it had some lesser models, Hispano-Suiza’s French side was essentially all-in on top-tier luxury cars. In 1933, even the “Junior” chassis cost more than a fully assembled Bugatti Type 57.

The Hispano-Suiza K6, with a simple OHV 5.2-liter, roughly 120 horsepower straight-six, and 3-speeder with a dry-plate clutch, was created to offer something more affordable but preserve the quality and image that the H6 had so carefully cultivated. It could not reverse the economic tide for the company, but it did sell pretty well for a very expensive car during a time of economic calamity. Plus, it was well-made and nice to drive. Carrosserie Vanvooren provided the “off-the-rack” K6 bodies, but this was always a coachbuilt car.

K6 Chassis 15121

While less expensive than the 220-hp J12s, the K6 was nevertheless a car for the privileged few. This one, chassis 15121, was first owned by Maurice Solvay, businessman grandson of Belgian chemist and inventor Ernest Solvay and husband of French actress Josette Day. By the time Solvay bought it, however, the end was near for the car line at Bois Colombes.

The Spanish Civil War threw that side of the company into chaos, though car production continued in Barcelona until 1943. The French side was slyly taken over by the Government in 1937. They had the surviving company focus on aviation and defense contractor projects, and car production was wound down in 1938. The company continued as a defense contractor for another 30 years, but the two sides were permanently split. A part of the company still exists today as Safran.

Chassis 15121 was originally a cabriolet sedan, but in 1948 Solvay decided to turn it into a Break de Chasse, and turned to Franay, an old-line coachbuilder founded by former carriage interior maker Jean-Baptiste Franay in 1903 and later run by his son Marius.

Franay was one of many automotive ateliers in Levallois-Perret, the beating heart of France’s custom coachbuilding scene before WW2 and after (Chapron and Figoni et Falaschi were very nearby). While postwar Franay creations are usually pretty over the top like those of Saoutchik, the order here was functionality and beauty. Mission accomplished.

After Solvay’s death in 1960, the car had several owners, including Renault designer Philippe Charbonneaux. It received a light restoration in the 1980s and a more comprehensive one when famous collector Peter Mullin bought it in 2002, including replacing its Water Buffalo-hide interior.

We don’t usually post museum photos as the lighting conditions usually aren’t great, but the Mullin collection is just too cool not to share some of these photos. We’ll share more of them in the future as time allows. The collection was ultimately auctioned off later in 2024, and you can see highlights from that auction here.