Driving: revitalised and restored classic cars
8 October 2024
Driving: Rolls-Royce Spectre – electrically quiet
1 November 2024Return of the Beast
Thanks to the efforts of British automotive enthusiast Duncan Pittaway, a legendary Edwardian racing car is back in action
T hroaty does not even come close as a description. The noise is explosive and all-consuming; blue flames shoot from a vast exhaust and the huge chassis rocks with barely restrained power as the 28.5-litre engine kicks into life. Add in a massive, bulbous nose and an elegant, waspish rear and you have the mighty Fiat S76, a machine that was – in 1911 – the fastest car in the world, capable of speeds in excess of 130mph.
The so-called ‘Beast of Turin’ will be one of the highlights at this June’s Goodwood Festival of Speed, joining a line-up of equally impressive contemporaries under the banner of ‘Edwardian Leviathans’. These mighty machines – at least 19 in total – will remind spectators of the days when a Grand Prix could involve six hours and 400 miles on rutted or dust-choked roads.
That the S76 will be taking its place on the starting grid is down to Duncan Pittaway, a classic car enthusiast who has a long-standing interest in the Beast of Turin.
‘It goes back to when I was a child,’ he says. ‘I remember seeing a picture of this funny-looking car in one of my father’s books and it always stuck in my mind.’
It was a chance conversation in 2003 that put him on the trail of the Beast, taking him to Australia where he found the remains of one of only two S76s that were ever built.
How they got there, though, remains something of a mystery.
‘The story was that the car had originally been fitted with an airship engine, but that couldn’t have been the case.’
‘The car had been sold to a member of the Russian royal family called Boris Soukhanov who had a collection of racing cars. He bought it in 1911 and kept it until 1914 – after that the trail went cold,’ says Pittaway.
‘By 1914 the Russian aristocracy realised the writing was on the wall and the revolution was coming. Many of them fled with their cash and possessions and it’s often hard to find out where they went because they didn’t want to be found.’
He also believes the car probably made its way Down Under during World War I. ‘Australia was an extremely wealthy country at the time because it was producing food and raw materials for the armies that were fighting on the Western Front and elsewhere. Between 1910 and 1918, for example, Rolls-Royce sold more Silver Ghost cars in Australia than anywhere else in the world.’
In many ways it was lucky for Pittaway, though, that the S76 had ended up where it was. ‘Because of the climate, enough remained to make restoration a possibility. If it had been lying in a hedge in Herefordshire it would have been compost by the time I got to it.’
All the same, what he found was far from being an operational racing car. ‘It had been in a crash, so there was a bent and rusty chassis with axles, steering, wheels, pedals and levers.’
Pittaway shipped the remains back to the UK, but for several years he was left wondering what to do next, reluctant to begin an extensive restoration project because the S76 was missing a key part – its enormous engine. ‘Without that, the car somehow didn’t have enough heart, so I put out the word to people I knew saying I needed one.
‘In the villages on the way, people stopped to see what was coming and the blast from the car’s exhausts blew off their hats and singed their hair.’
‘The story was that the car had originally been fitted with an airship engine, but I did some research and realised this couldn’t have been the case.’
A solution emerged from a somewhat unexpected place, Fiat itself. In the 1920s the company was in the habit of breaking up its racing cars to prevent competitors getting their hands on its designs. This had been the fate of the second S76, but its engine had survived, tucked away in a warehouse amid the outskirts of Fiat’s industrial empire.
There followed a painstaking process of restoring chassis and engine and bringing the pair together successfully, culminating in the ear-shattering moment when that mighty engine came back to life.
And Pittaway believes that those who see the car on its outings this summer will be not only impressed, but also surprised.
‘It’s easy to forget that the S76 was originally built in the winter of 1910. Everything else you see from that period is so different. They look like something out of the 19th century, but the Fiat, with its serious attempt at streamlining, looks as though it belongs in the 21st century. It must have looked like a spaceship to people in 1911.’
Pittaway also wants to set a few records straight. For decades motoring writers dismissed the S76 as a cumbersome freak that would have been extremely difficult to drive.
‘The truth is it wasn’t this big, heavy lumbering thing. It was timed at 136mph – faster than the fastest aeroplane of the day.’
‘That’s just not true,’ he says. ‘In 1911 an Italian racing driver called Pietro Bordino brought an S76 to the Brooklands track in Surrey, he then drove it up to Saltburn Sands near Middlesborough and back again. He said it was good to drive and that he enjoyed the experience.
‘The British mechanic he took with him recalled how they did 120mph between Oxford and Banbury. In the villages on the way, people stopped to see what was coming and the blast from the car’s exhausts blew off their hats and singed their hair.
‘There’s also a letter from a chauffeur to Autocar magazine. In it, he recalls being passed a note from the lady in the back telling him to pull over, then this huge red car came past, with flames coming out of its sides.’
That sense of awe will perhaps be recreated this summer as Pittaway takes the S76 not only to Goodwood, but also to Ostend – to recall his car’s 1913 speed record bid that took place there. Footage still exists of that day. Typical of Edwardian film we see a few dignitaries wandering around, obligatory cigarettes in hand, then a brief glimpse of the car shooting past, then back to the strolling gentlemen and a fleeting shot of the drivers in their cockpit.
‘I’m looking forward to setting the record straight,’ adds Pittaway. ‘Over the years the car has almost been ridiculed for being overweight and not fast enough and it wasn’t around to defend itself. The truth is it wasn’t this big, heavy lumbering thing. It was timed at 136mph – faster than the fastest aeroplane of the day. It would be like to be saying today: “I’ve got something outside that’s faster than anything on the planet. Do you want to come for a spin?”’
Words: DH
1 Comment
I am going to england flying from Australia in may 2025.
I am hoping to see a motoring museum or two.
Is the FIAT S76 (the Beast of Turin) residing anywhere?
I would love to see the legend.