The 2½ mile (4km) oval circuit at Indianapolis was laid down in 1909 at a cost of $250,000. The original surface was natural rock which had been steamrollered flat, but this proved too dangerous and so the circuit was paved with three million bricks, earning it the nickname of ‘The Brickyard’. This surface remained until 1935 when, with the exception of the start/finish straight, the track was asphalted. The last of the brick paving disappeared in 1961 when the entire circuit, apart from a symbolic brick strip at the finish line, was asphalted. Until 1971, the 200 lap, 500 mile (805km) spectacular was raced on Memorial Day, the day each year on which the United States remembers its war dead, but that year it was moved to the last Sunday in May. The first ‘500’ took place in 1911 and the following year Ralph Mulford completed the race down the field at a leisurely 56mph (90.1km/h) solely to qualify for starting money, even stopping for lunch on the way! In 1913 it was drink rather than food which would make the headlines.
The first two years of the ‘500’ had been essentially an American preserve, but in 1913 there was a significant European challenge. Five foreign drivers (‘swarthy skinned aliens’ as the American press called them) took part and the line-up included eight foreign cars – two Peugeots, two Mercedes and three Isotta-Fraschinis and a Sunbeam. As the American cars were much smaller than their European counterparts, none of the monster machines were entered. Of the European contingent only Frenchman Jules Goux had any experience of a banked circuit like Indianapolis, having raced in the spring of that year at Brooklands where he had lapped at a highly impressive 109⅕mph (175.8km/h). For Indianapolis Goux was at the wheel of the same 7.4-litre Peugeot in which Georges Boillot had won the eventful 1912 French Grand Prix. It was to prove a good omen.
America’s Robert Evans led for the first few laps in a Mason but the race soon settled down into a battle between the Peugeots of Goux and Paul Zuccarelli, American Bob Burman in a 7.2-litre Keeton, and Albert Guyot in the strongly fancied Sunbeam. Alas, Guyot did not enjoy one of his more auspicious drives. R.F. Crossman accompanied him as riding mechanic and some observers thought the Sunbeam might have fared better had the situations been reversed. For despite having to change just one tyre throughout the 500 miles, Guyot could only finish a disappointing fourth, never really threatening the leaders. Up front, Goux made numerous tyre stops and during each one he guzzled a quantity of the Frenchman’s favourite tipple, champagne. In the course of the race, he downed no fewer than six bottles! Far from having an adverse effect on his driving, the alcohol intake spurred him on to greater heights and when Burman dropped out in the second 100 miles (161km), then Zuccarelli retired with carburettor trouble while lying second, Goux was left unchallenged in the lead. He went on to become the first European to win at Indianapolis (pocketing the prize money of £8,750), finishing well ahead of Spencer Wishart’s 4.9-litre Mercer, which crossed the line on fire, and Charlie Merz’s Stutz.
Goux’s triumph saw him acclaimed as a national hero on his return to Paris. Over the ensuing years there was much debate as to whether or not the champagne story was apocryphal, but Goux himself subsequently confirmed that it was definitely champagne and not water that he had consumed during those pit stops. He added that it was the finest vintage, procured before the race with great difficulty by a Mr Kaufman of New York, Peugeot’s representative in the United States.