Yeah, might have a slightly disproportionate meltdown there. But I'm not going to re-hash all that, best just to move on I reckons
Soooooo...
Of course, for a Brooklands racer or record-breaker, you could build whatever you damned well pleased. The Grands Prix racers were still hamstrung by often downright bizarre regulations. As long as there's been racing there's been the cry of "too fast!" and do-gooders attempting to restrict the speeds (and perceived danger) with rules and weight limits and fuel allowances and all kinds of often contradictory formulae. These regulations and the increasing distance they forced between production and race cars were one of the main reasons for Fiat drifting away from the sport. Before this happened, they were one of the mainstays of the global racing scene with many victories to their credit, using such cars as the massive-engined 14.2 litre inline four S74. This example is a 1911 car, as driven by the American
bon viveur Caleb Bragg in the USA GP, where he nearly won but for an oil leak. He returned the following year to win outright. He was typical of the all-encompassing heroic figure proliferating in these early years of racing; besides the Indy 500 he was a qualified aeronautic engineer from M.I.T, held records for both aircraft speed and altitude and was a very successful speedboat racer, as well as running his own company that developed the Bragg-Kliesrath Brake... a form of vacuum brake booster that was used by firms such as Duesenberg, Stutz and Packard and that Bragg sold to the Bendix Corporation, pretty much to finance his lifestyle
...and returning to the crazy world of speed records, in the same year and from the same factory came a truly legendary car, and easily one of the highlights of this year's FoS. Everyone wanted to see this car, and hear it, and feel the heat of the flames it's almost permanently wreathed it. And rightly so. Once the fastest car in the world, Fiat built two S76s specifically to wrest the land speed CROWN away from the Blitzen Benz. This is the only survivor, and it's taken owner/driver Duncan Pittaway ten years to restore it to roadworthy condition. Bear in mind that a car the world has only ever seen two of, and then over a hundred years ago. It's not exactly like motor factors are overflowing with spares. And bearing in mind that the engine is the largest purpose-built car motor ever made (some had larger engines, but they were aero-derived) at a not insubstantial 28.4 litres, you can imagine that reverse-engineering anything for it must be tricky indeed. Pause to let that sink in... a 28 litre four cylinder. That's just over seven litres per cylinder.
Yeah, you read that right. Seven litres per cylinder. The effect of this thing running on anyone within several yards' radius is profound, to say the least! Absolutely ludicrous, but
such glorious insanity. This thing, also appropriately known as the Beast of Turin, was once the fastest car in the world, albeit unofficially. The record attempt took place along Ostend seafront, but the car was forbidden to run at the same time as the tram which ran parallel to the promenade road. The tram driver refused to deviate from his timetabled journeys (how times have changed) so although the first run by driver Arthur Duray was timed at a terrifying 134 mph, the Fiat team could not get a return run in time to ratify the record. Duray later claimed, according to Pittaway, that "first and second gear were okay, that third gear called upon all of his experience as a racing driver and that fourth gear needed the courage of a hundred men"
Another kind of ultimate now, and there's no question of authenticity over its speed records. The Napier Railton is categorically the fastest car ever to race around the Brooklands circuit. Designed by Reid Railton and built by Thompson &Taylor for gentleman racer John Cobb, the car was powered by a Napier Lion 24 litre W-12 engine with high compression specifications, conceived as an aeroplane engine. Despite the complete lack of certain equipment considered essential in today's racer (such as front brakes), this leviathan once held no fewer than 47 world speed records. This included the outright Land Speed Record, set by Cobb at Bonneville at 367.9mph. Cobb himself went on to fly in the RAF during the Second World War, rising to the rank of Group Captain and eventually being killed on Loch Ness trying to set the Water Speed Record in his jet boat Crusader, crashing at well over 200mph. The Napier Railton set a lap record of an
average 143mph at Brooklands shortly before it was closed for war duty and never re-opened as a racing circuit, thus ensuring the record lap will stand in perpetuity. I have over the years taken a zillion pics of this superb car, so deliberately tried to reign myself in a bit here
A much more humble kind of special one-off comes in the form of the Bolster Special. Typical of the sort of home-brewed sub-voiturette car being made in sheds all over the country, this 1929 vehicle was built by John and Richard Bolster whilst still schoolboys, with the apparent avowed intent of "driving around a field as dangerously as possible". Bloody Mary, as it was called, was as small a chassis as possible to carry two linked twin-cylinder J bike engines and went on to a distinguished hillclimbing career, while the Bolsters went on to pursue racing, hillclimbing and sports journalism.
Between the war years, the formula applied to Grand Prix racing very much favoured supercharged engines. Development had long since led designers up the slightly blind alley of forced induction... not that there is anything wrong with it as such, but in those days it was used very much to overcome the shortcomings in other aspects of engine design rather than to augment an already well-conceived and highly-toleranced engine. Typical of this side-branch of evolution are cars like the Halford Special, built by Major James Halford who was part of the engine design team at Napier and de Haviland. The car had a 1.5 litre supercharged straight-six engine that was mated to an Aston Martin chassis. It plugged away in competition but could never match the bigger-budget works efforts, particularly the powerhouses of Mercedes, Alfa Romeo and Bugatti
Between the Wars Alfa Romeo, under the leadership of autocratic works team manager Enzo Ferrari and his Scuderia Ferrari concern, exploited something of a power vacuum in the racing echelons. Their Tipo B car was probably outdated, but less so than many, and had to good fortune to pre-date the incredible cars from Mercedes an Auto Union that were so good they almost killed racing completely. The archetypal post-WWI car, it boasted a straight-eight supercharged 3.2 litre engine. This model of Alfa produced one of the most legendary victories in the history of racing, Nuvolari's "Impossible Victory". At the 1935 German Grand Prix at Nürburgring, he fell victim to a botched pitstop where the pressure regulator on the fuel pump broke and cost him over two minutes. Rejoining the race in sixth place, he drove like a man possessed in horrendous weather. At the start of the last lap he was 35 seconds behind the leading Mercedes of von Brauchitsch... who he caught and passed to win. The 300 000 partisan spectators - including the German High Command - were stunned and furious to see the diminutive Italian finish ahead of no fewer than six Mercedes and four Auto Union cars that were undeniably far superior technically to his out-dated little Alfa Romeo. This example is in wonderfully unrestored, patinated condition.
Ettore Bugatti was a very particular man. This was a great strength when it came to innovative design on his racing cars, but could also be an Achilles heel when it came to adopting newly proven technologies that could improve them. An example of this was an early dabble in the world of hydraulic braking which proved catastrophic. This might have had something to do with the grease-based total-loss hydraulics that were used way back pre WWI. However, the experience was enough to put him off for life, and he stubbornly refused to return to the concept even after many other manufacturers had persisted and produced effective systems that were clearly more advantageous than his; Bugattis remained blighted by non-assisted cable-operated drum brakes pretty much throughout the lifespan of the original company. One technology that Bugatti could no help but adopt was that of forced induction. Rather like that other visionary racing car designer WO Bentley, EB felt that if a car was not fast enough without a supercharger then it required more engine, but the formulae did not agree and eventually his Type 35 was no longer capable of dominating privateer racing as it once had. Finally, superchargers began to appear on Bugattis, and by the time of this Type 54 it was indispensable. This was also Bugatti's first twin-cam engine, inspired by the awesomely-engineered Millers he'd seen at Indianapolis. It was claimed that the engine took a mere 13 days to design, adapted from the long-standing straight-eight engine, rushed through in order to be ready for Varzi to race at Monza in 1931. It was capable of 300bhp and was wickedly fast, following the typical Bugatti perfect-teardrop plan shape and having the usual innovative features so effective on these cars; the chassis rails of differing depth and therefore stiffness being a classic Bugatti feature
And since we've mentioned it, the Blower Bentley has perversely become one of the most recognisable and cherished examples of the marques' early output. Bizarrely so, because WO Bentley despised the ides of supercharging, saying that "to supercharge a Bentley engine is to pervert its design and corrupt its performance". Sadly, by the time his Speed Six 6½ Litre cars had won Le Mans consecutively four times, he was no longer in a position to do anything to prevent it. His Bentley Boys, originally "united by their love of insouciance, elegant tailoring, and a need for speed" had turned out to be a difficult group to manage... Henry "Tim" Birkin had obstinately pushed for supercharging despite the express wishes of the marques' founder and Woolf Barnato was now the Chairman and majority shareholder. WO was now "merely" chief engineer at the company bearing his name and therefore could no longer resist the decision to fit superchargers to the new 4½ Litre cars made by losing two cylinders from the Speed Six.
The only victory he could claim was Pyrrhic at best; he refused to have the supercharger fitted directly to the engine and therefore it was mounted to the crank nose in front of the motor and between the dumbirons, the twin carburettors protected by a mesh guard. Ironically, his obstinacy only served to guarantee the "Blower" cars were instantly recognisable and easily identified-with by the race-going public, with the bulky Roots charger slung out right in front ...and incidentally adversely affecting the handling with their not inconsiderable weight slung out past the steer axis promoting unwanted understeer. In addition, the Blower Bentleys proved fragile indeed, as compared to the previous cast-iron reputation for invincibility that the Bentleys had acquired. In every race where supercharged and naturally aspirated 4½ Litre cars competed, the Blowers always failed as compared to the N/A cars which carried on regardless. Nowadays, of course, they're one of the most-loved and well-known pre-war cars, perhaps more famous for being a heroic failure than had they been as indefatigable as the other cars from the company
Woolf Barnato was not only a racer, main force behind Bentley and heir to his father's South African diamond mine fortune, he was also an intrepid spirit in the true best fashion of international playboy. He was one of the original Bentley Boys, winning Le Mans himself three times and described by WO Bentley as "the best driver we ever had and, I consider, the best British driver of his day". Prior to this, he won prizes in boat racing, was a keen boxer, huntsman and horseman, played tennis and golf to pro/am level and cricket at first-class level. He was an artilleryman in the War, rising to Captain. So, a truly fearless and widely skilled
unbermensch, then, in the true spirit of a Renaissance Man. It was perhaps no surprise then that he thought he could go one better in the Blue Train Race that had been so instrumental in placing Rover and Alvis in the public eye.
These races, some ninety years before a certain BBC light entertainment programme emulated the formula, challenged rich racer types to beat the Cannes to Calais night express (
Le Train Bleu after the colour of its sleeper cars). Woolf bet £100 he could not only beat the train to Calais, but could be comfortably ensconced in his London club by the time the train reached the Channel port. So, on March 13th 1930, Barnato and his co-driver Dale Bourn watched the train steam away, then downed their drinks at the Carlton and jumped into their Bentley Speed Six setting out from Cannes at 17:45. They battled adversity in the form of heavy rain, fog, and a burst tyre to reach Boulogne at 10:30 the following morning. They crossed the Channel on the 11:30 steam packet and parked up outside the Conservative Club on St James' Street at 15:20, four minutes before the train arrived at Calais.
The French authorities promptly fined him some considerable portion of his winnings for racing on public roads and excluded Bentley from the following years Paris Salon for advertising an unauthorised race. Not that Woolf cared too much. His personal transport thereafter was a Gurney-Nutting bodied Sportsman Coupe Bentley, often mistaken as the car in which he won the race. That was a Mulliner-bodied saloon, however, he merely named the later Gurney-Nutting car in honour of his victory. And ever since it has been the "Blue Train Special". And here it is in all its glory
By the time the Second World War was over, the machinery in Grand Prix racing had changed beyond all recognition. The years preceding the War had nearly seen the series go out altogether. The might of the German concerns Mercedes and Auto Union had swept all before them. The other manufacturers were fighting to come third, minutes rather than seconds behind, with out-dated cars that were so far behind the Silver Arrows it wasn't even funny. The vacuum left before Germany was allowed back into competition, coupled with (for once) sensible rulebooks, had enabled those previously on a different timing sheet altogether to prosper. The new Alfa Romeos made hay while the sun shone, Ferrari was now an independent concern and raced twelve and four cylinder cars across the Formulas, the Lancia was the most advanced racing car ever seen and were it not for the financial woes ever dogging that firm, would have cleaned up, and British marques were resurgent once again; the Connaughts, Vanwalls and the new BRM concern born from the ashes of the pre-war ERAs all reflected the new rules that made it possible for smaller budget firms to up-engine their voiturette cars and run without the technological expense of superchargers. Finally engine design had made forced induction unnecessary. This B-Type Connaught won the non-championship Syracuse Grand Prix in 1955, the first win for a British car driven by a British driver since 1923. Connaught never set the world on fire as their neat engineering and tidy cars perhaps should have, but gamely plugged away throughout the 50s with their V-8 Coventry Climax "Godiva" rear-engined and later four-cyliner Alta-engined cars
The marque that really benefited from the new 2½-litre Formula was Maserati. Their pre-war cars had been long left behind in terms of development and performance. The new Alfieri/Colombo-designed straight-six engine coupled with visionary chassis design made the 250F a force to be reckoned with, especially as the firm had managed to attract top-flight drivers such as Fangio and Stirling Moss, both of whom won Grands Prix in these cars. It featured several of the components that had been proven essential on a winning car (mostly by the pre-war German marques), such as wishbone independent front suspension, a de Dion rear tube offering the next best thing to independent rear suspension, tubular chassis with stressed members controlling load paths, huge drum brakes with turbine-fin cooling and properly streamlined bodywork.
This car enabled Fangio to repeat Nuvolari's Impossible Victory of twelve years previously. At the 1957 German Grand Prix, Fangio had realised from the fuel loads and tyre compounds the Ferrari drivers had chosen that they were intending to go the entire race without pitting. He decided that by running with soft tyres and only a half fuel load, he could corner faster and this would be enough to win if the pitstop went well. It didn't. He pitted on Lap 13 ...possibly tempting fate... whilst running first and 30 seconds ahead of Hawthorn's Ferrari. The mechanic changing Fangio's left rear wheel lost the wheel nut; it had rolled under the car and the time lost trying to find it meant the Maserati rejoined in third place, 48 seconds behind the second-placed Ferrari of Collins. He then proceeded to break the lap record nine times, seven of which were on consecutive laps. He took over 15 seconds out of Hawthorn on his first out-lap and eight more on the next lap! he passed Collins early in the 21st lap, and towards the end of that lap, passed Hawthorn with both his nearside tyres on the grass. Hawthorn fought back, but Fangio was able to hold him off to win. He later remarked on his love for the Nürburgring, but admitted that for two days after the race he was unable to sleep, "still making those leaps in the dark on those curves where I had never before had the courage to push things so far."
The final Grand Prix car in the Brooklands paddock is from a clear decade later. The 1966 season saw a rules change to three-litre capacity, leaving Lotus in a bind. They had been a dominant force hitherto, but the Coventry Climax 3-litre engine was not developed yet and they had to begin the season with the underpowered and underdeveloped Climax 2-litre V8. Midway through the year, they had the opportunity to swap to one of the most astonishing, and sadly one of the greatest white elephant, engines to appear in Formula One. This was the BRM H-16. Designed by Tony Rudd and Geoff Johnson, this Swiss-watch engineered motor was produced essentially by placing two BRM flat-eight 1½-litre boxer engines on top of each other and gearing them together, producing the bonkers but marvellous H-16 configuration. It proved massively powerful, but sadly also massively heavy and massively unreliable. Rudd later claimed his engineering drawings had not been followed properly and many castings were inaccurate and over-sized. However, Jim Clark's canny racecraft did give the Lotus 43 a GP win at the USA race at Watkins Glen that year, biding his time while faster cars dropped out. The following year Colin Chapman's preferential deal with Ford/Cosworth to develop the DFV engine came to fruition, and the glorious BRM H-16 was consigned to the basement storage room of history, in a box marked "heroic failures" while Lotus went back to their plot for world domination
Next instalment we'll finish off with the Brooklands paddock and move on somewhere else