Back in early September of this year, I had the good fortune to be able to attend the Concours of Elegance at Hampton Court Palace, one of the mere handful of events I was able to go to this year. As readers will know from my report on that weekend, plus previous Concours’ of Elegance, the event combines some of the world’s most spectacular classics with one of the most historic locations in the UK, and somehow each year the organisers have managed to surpass the previous one.
This year, despite the difficulties caused by the COVID pandemic, they were able to attract some astonishing road and racing cars – a Ferrari 250LM and a P3, both in Giallo Fly, a mighty Le Mans-winning Porsche 917K, a stunning Bugatti Type 57 Atalante in black over purple…a feast for the eyes and the soul.
Any excuse will do to show these incredible cars.
Yet even among such glories, there are always one or two surprise cars that take your breath away or leave you open-mouthed in amazement, sometimes for their sheer beauty, or history, or rarity, or value, or all of the above.
This year there were three major surprises for me, cars I had never seen before and never even heard of – a Zagato-bodied Porsche 356, a second 356, this one an America Roadster, and a Bertone-designed Jaguar XK150S, from 1957 – coincidentally the year I was born.
The first and third of these cars were utterly gorgeous (I was less enamoured of the America Roadster) and bore little or no resemblance to the already lovely original cars they were based on. It turned out that the Porsche – although based on a 1959 356, was actually completed in 2017 as part of a very limited run of nine “continuation” cars, so delicately beautiful as it is, it’s not really a classic – is it? Anyway, ultra-desirable as the Zagato was, in the end, I plumped for the Jaguar XK150S, and I thought it might be worth looking into the story of this remarkable car in a little more detail.
We all know the graceful Jaguar XK series from the late 1940’s through to 1961 – a run of stylish, elegant – and fast! – coupés and roadsters that started with the XK120 in 1948 (named after its claimed top speed, which made it the world’s fastest production car at the time). This was followed in 1954 by the more powerful XK140, that in turn was superseded by the last in the line, the XK150.
Power output was increased each time, although the engine remained fundamentally the same 3,442cc in-line six – from 160bhp for the standard XK120, rising to 190 to 210bhp for the XK140 and finally up to 265bhp for the last and ultimate version of the XK150S – the base car for the Bertone prototype, and it was the XK150S that had the most improved performance, with a top speed of 212km/h or 132mph. The end for the XK series came in 1961 when the E-Type was launched and became an even more iconic Jaguar than its already exalted predecessor.
However, lovely and fast though an XK150 was and is, for some customers this was not enough and something else was needed – exclusivity, so Jaguar sent a total of just eight chassis out to famous design houses to be fitted for a bespoke suit. Three of them went to Bertone in Turin and into the creative hands of Franco Scaglione, who among others boasted a CV that included the astonishing Alfa Romeo BAT cars an would later feature the Tipo 33 Stradale and the prototype Lamborghini 350GTV. There was a rumour that these XK-based cars would be potential replacements for the range, but as we all know, that didn’t come to pass.
Incidentally, this was not the first Jaguar XK to be given a dramatically different body by an Italian coachbuilder. Back in 1954, Ghia created a sensational design based on an XK120, one of a series called Supersonic, most of them based on the FIAT 8V– and as with the Bertone car, you would never know this was a Jaguar if you didn’t spot the badge. I remember seeing it at the Concours of Elegance when it was held at Windsor Castle in 2016 – quite incredible to think this car was built in 1954! But back to the later Bertone car…
Underneath, these are effectively the same car.
You can see the result in the photos – an exquisite car that looks as Italian as any Ferrari or Lamborghini; indeed, in profile, there is a touch of Ferrari 250GTE about it to my eyes. The front also bears a slight resemblance to the BMW 507, a direct contemporary of the Bertone Jaguar and one of my all-time favourite cars. In fact I’d say that there is barely a trace of Englishness about this car‘s styling – it wasn’t until I got to see it up close and read the display card that I realised it was a Jaguar. In fact, just about the only external visual link is the shape of the radiator grille.
There’s so much to love about this car – the subtle tailfins, the huge wrap-around rear window, the side air vents that add to the car’s already purposeful forward-leaning stance, that profile…
The interior is also quite different, with a very modern-looking instrument binnacle behind the steering wheel as opposed to the centrally-located main instruments in the original car, and a row of toggle switches in the middle not unlike the row that featured later on the E-Type.
The Hampton Court car is believed to be the only one of the three to survive – apparently no-one has seen the other two for many years – and has itself only intermittently been seen over the decades. It was recently subject to a complete nut-and-blot restoration at a cost one can only imagine, finished in gleaming Jet Black with Saddle Tan interior. I loved seeing at the Concours, and I wasn’t the only one – getting unobstructed photos of it required some patience!
Interestingly, in trying to dig a little deeper into the story behind car, I found out that it was first registered in the UK in April 2013, prior to which it had spent some time in a Dutch museum, so one can safely assume the restoration began after that. I also discovered that the car was originally finished in bright red – and I found some photos of it. I have to say that it looks more elegant in black, but it looks pretty fabulous in red, too.
I don’t know if Jaguar were the first British manufacturer to let Italian design houses loose on their cars, but Italian coachbuilt bodies on British cars became quite a thing in the 1960’s and ‘70’s – Gordon Keeble, Jensen, Aston Martin, AC all followed a similar route.
Imagine owning such a unique (if the other two are no longer with us) and exquisite piece of mobile sculpture – I think I’d be too nervous to drive it much, but I could never tire of looking at it. I’m not sure I’ll ever get to see this car again, although as it is now UK registered, it might show up at another high-end concours in this country sometime. In any case, I felt privileged and thrilled to see it at least once.
