How I fell for the Phantom of Love: the most magical Rolls-Royce ever from 1926, inspired by Marie Antoinette (and one very lucky wife)
Rolls-Royce Phantom 1
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I have long been a believer that time does not pass but rather it is us who pass through time. Which means, therefore, we have the innate super-power of being able to slow time down.
Have I lost my marbles? Absolutely not. Take a bath instead of a shower, read by candlelight instead of halogen bulb, listen to vinyl instead of your iPod, or switch off the telly and play a board game with the family and I guarantee that minutes will begin to stretch out like golden threads of you-time, quality time, extra time. The motoring equivalent of which takes place today.
At around sunrise this morning, The One Show’s Alex Jones (plus baby bump) and I will once again be making the most of our PCV licences, along with my Radio 2 colleague Ken Bruce, as we clamber behind the wheels of three classic Bedford coaches full of kids for one of the most joyous events on the motoring calendar: the London to Brighton Veteran Car Run.
This rare delight cost £6,500 when it was new in 1926, making it the most expensive Rolls ever built. All thanks to a chap by the name of Clarence Gasque who ordered it for his wife, Maude
Be sure to give us a wave if you are one of the countless well-wishers who pitch up year in year out to line the route.
Until I had the good fortune to be involved, I had no idea what all the fuss was about, but have since declared it right up there with the Goodwood Revival as my joint- favourite motor-car event of all time.
If you ever get the chance to chug, cough and splutter the 54 miles down to the south coast as part of this magnificent moving motor show, I cannot recommend it highly enough.
A few excited last-minute entries will no doubt make it to the start line after Bonhams’ sale of qualifying veteran cars yesterday.
Wolverhampton coachbuilder Charles Clark and Sons was given licence to go to whatever lengths necessary to produce a creation both unrivalled and unforgettable
Which is how I got to road-test the majestic chariot pictured here: a 1926 Rolls-Royce Phantom I, registration number YE 939. Although not eligible for today’s run, being far too much of a whippersnapper at the tender age of just 90 (only pre-1905 cars are allowed), it is the star lot in Bonhams’ sale on December 4. The guide price is £600,000-£700,000.
This rare delight cost £6,500 when it was new in 1926, making it the most expensive Rolls ever built.
All thanks to a chap by the name of Clarence Gasque, the financial boss of Woolworth’s, who ordered the ‘Phantom Of Love’, as it came to be known, for his darling wife, Maude.
Wolverhampton coachbuilder Charles Clark and Sons was given licence to go to whatever lengths necessary to produce a creation both unrivalled and unforgettable.
The Phantom of Love, as it became known, is the star lot in Bonhams’ sale on December 4 with a guide price of £600,000-£700,000
A process that ended up taking three times longer than the preparation of any previous Rolls-Royce. Clark’s owner, John Barnett, took inspiration from all over the globe, including a sedan chair that once belonged to Marie Antoinette.
Which is all well and good, but what I was dying to find out was what the blessed thing is like to drive.
I made a cheeky call on the off-chance and, what do you know, two days later she was being unloaded chez Evans.
Starting her up requires quite a bit more than the mere twist of a key. First, turn auto flux on. Battery isolator on. Magneto and battery switch on. Ensure gearstick is in neutral – set carburation to ‘strong’, ignition to ‘middle’, governor (speed limiter) to ‘middle’. Set pressure-relief valve to ‘starting’ and then depress floor-mounted ignition with left foot.
Clark’s owner, John Barnett, took inspiration from all over the globe, including a sedan chair that once belonged to Marie Antoinette
Wow, she fired up first time with no hesitation, perfectly balanced. We only had access to her for a few hours so we got straight down to making the absolute most of every second.
Having driven numerous vintage smokers before, I was only too aware of the four golden rules of not stuffing it up.
1. Avoid gear crunching wherever possible. Double-declutching sometimes works, but to be honest it’s more down to luck than judgment.
2. Don’t wait for the first genuine stop situation to see if the brakes work.
3. Be prepared for the seismic lag between turning the steering wheel and anything actually happening.
4. Ensure number one son is above the legal minimum height of 130cm to sit up front and act as near-side ‘human indicator’.
With these and several other crucial survival tactics at the forefront of my mind, we set off for lunch at our new favourite pub.
We set off for lunch at our new favourite pub. Gingerly at first, but with every passing minute my confidence and trust in this wonderful old gal began to blossom exponentially
Gingerly at first, but with every passing minute my confidence and trust in this wonderful old gal began to blossom exponentially.
First to second was continuously sticky, but with second to third much smoother and heaps of torque available from the huge 7.7-litre engine, we quickly began to get a better understanding of each other.
A mile down the original London Road in Ascot we peeled left to enter the autumnal splendour of Windsor Great Park.
Thanks to special permission from ‘the man’, we couldn’t wipe the smiles off our faces as we cruised through the myriad lines of golden-leafed tunnels.
Not once did she miss a beat. Not once did Noah miss a hand signal. And not once did our precious charges, Mrs Evans and young Eli, sitting on that Marie Antoinette-inspired bench seat, miss a photo opportunity.
Not once did she miss a beat. Not once did Noah miss a hand signal. And not once did our precious charges, Mrs Evans and young Eli, miss a photo opportunity
If you want to cause a fuss at your local – the right kind of fuss, that is – pull up in a magical old creation such as this and begin extolling the virtues of the hand-operated headlight tilting mechanism while activating the gloriously loud klaxon.
All and sundry came out to play. Passers-by stopped to take car selfies, even the odd cyclist smiled in our direction.
After a light bite, it was time to climb back aboard.
‘Right,’ I said to myself, ‘let’s see what this she-wolf in sheep’s clothing can really do.’
Five minutes later we hit the open roads of rural Berkshire, rapidly achieving a top speed of, get this, 62mph!
With our time almost up, none of us wanted to say goodbye
A speed that back in 1926 must have been almost incomprehensible for a road car; incredible, in fact.
As for those brakes, not only were they responsive and reliable, but smooth with it too.
Our time almost up, it was like the Evans clan had been struck dumb. None of us wanted to give her back.
None of us wanted to say goodbye. None of us wanted to say anything.
Rarely has a car had such a visceral effect on me, if ever. I only hope the successful bidder next month is minded to drive her – a lot.
It would be a crying shame not to. I think I may have to go along and offer up my services as a complimentary car-sitter.
I would consider it an honour.
