This car, Lot 4, sold for $112,915 (€94,300), including buyer’s premium, at Gooding Christie’s Paris, FRA, sale, on January 29, 2026.
If Germany was the birthplace of the automobile, France was the cradle.
Hundreds of enthusiastic amateurs tried to build their dream cars. Some ideas thrived; most died. This is a story about two friends who hatched a wild automotive idea out of necessity, which they turned into a dream.
A desperate start
Toward the end of the first decade of the 20th century, Robert Bourbeau and Henri Devaux had become avid airplane enthusiasts. With their motorized tricycle, they didn’t hesitate to travel long distances to witness those crazy pilots in their early flying machines. And one day, they crashed it. They couldn’t afford to buy a new motorcycle, so the remains were transported to a shed in a Parisian coal yard. From those remains came the first Bedelia cyclecar.
They created the vehicle with a wooden chassis and the 500-cc single-cylinder engine and front steering from the tricycle. The solid front axle pivoted in the middle, like a basic soapbox racer. Then things got really weird. A chain driven by the crankshaft transferred power to a traversal driveshaft connected to the rear wheels with leather belts. The driver sat behind the passenger in tandem. Why, you may ask, was the driver at the rear? To engage drive to the rear wheels, a lever moved the axle backward or forward, which tightened or slackened the drive belts, effectively acting as a basic clutch. Technically there were two gears, but no gear change was possible while on the move. The drive belts needed to be moved onto a different-sized pulley on the front traversal driveshaft. The whole contraption weighed in at less than 330 pounds, making it rather fuel efficient.
Today, most people would refuse to travel in such a vehicle. But in France in 1911, traffic was light, and much of the population was poor. So our intrepid friends took to the highways, covering thousands of kilometers. On their travels, there was much interest in their tiny car, with many people asking if they could purchase one. The coal merchant who had provided use of his shed to the friends fronted the money to build more cyclecars in the same location. The name Bedelia was chosen, loosely based on the friends’ names. The little cyclecars were cheap to make, a fraction of the cost of a small automobile at the time. There simply wasn’t any competition at this price, and the orders rolled in.
Off to the races
There was much interest in racing in France at the time, often staged on closed public roads. Bedelia used Anzani motorcycle engines, initially with a 500-cc single, and later with a V-twin of nearly 1,000 cc. (There is a little confusion here, as many of these power units used the Bedelia name, but they were in fact made by Anzani.) Race organizers didn’t know how to classify a Bedelia, so they were often accepted as a motorcycle with sidecar. And with an extraordinary power-to-weight ratio, they often won. With the V-twin, a Bedelia could compete and win against small automobiles in the 1,100-cc class. Winning races sells cars, so the order book stayed healthy.
Then came World War I, when most motor manufacturers supplied vehicles to the army. You could be excused for thinking that Bedelia had nothing to offer. And you would be wrong. With a few brackets, the Bedelia could carry a stretcher situated above the hood and passenger’s compartment. They were thus used as field ambulances for transporting wounded soldiers.
After the war, Bedelia’s star faded. The age of the cyclecar from companies such as Citroën and Amilcar blossomed. And within a couple of years, the Bedelia company was dead. In its decade of glory, about 3,000 Bedelias were made — sold not only in France, but all of Europe. Because of the way they were manufactured, they did not survive easily. Chassis got woodworm and rotted. Only about 20 are known to exist today, but there are probably a few more patiently waiting in the dusty corners of barns.
Form over function
At Gooding Christie’s inaugural Rétromobile auction, this Bedelia carried a top pre-sale estimate of $48k (€40k). This was reasonably logical, especially after the same auction company had sold a 1913 Bedelia Type 8 10CV from the Mullin Collection in California for $43k two years prior (SCM# 6971727). But this one sold for $113k. Was the price as crazy as the actual Bedelia? Absolutely. It’s over a hundred years old, but at this money, you can get a real car from the same period. Or maybe even two. Driving it on the road would be suicidal, so to experience the thrill of piloting this weird contraption would likely mean you own a chateau with a private entrance road. But sometimes, buyer’s logic goes out the window, especially at auction. You need two to tango, so at least a couple of aficionados really wanted this. Reputable auctioneers no longer pull bids off the chandelier, and even a disreputable one wouldn’t do so when something has reached reserve.
So why did this Bedelia more than double its high estimate? There is an unofficial club for these vehicles in France with about 80 members for the roughly 20 known surviving cyclecars. Many of these examples do not possess their original Anzani engine, often replaced by a motorcycle engine of another make. This Bedelia retains its original Anzani and it has the advantage of being the more-desirable V twin. It is also in relatively good condition. Giving it a full restoration would not be expensive, but it would be a crime. Parking it in your man cave and occasionally getting some friends around to start it up for a small run will make it one of the best pieces of automobilia that money can buy. Nevertheless, we can call it very well sold. It was purchased by a collector in the South of France, who will have already used it as you read this.
