BTW: The Lord’s Bugatti

By Graham Gauld

I lost a good friend back in October when the 20th Earl of Moray, from one of Scotland’s older noble families, died at the age of 83. Though born in Africa he lived for most of his life at the family’s Scottish estates in Perthshire and Moray. So why am I talking about this man? Well, back in the 1970s when he was still Lord Doune, Douglas John Moray Stuart decided to collect motor cars that fascinated him. The first was a little Citroen but then he went on a buying spree which culminated not only in him building the Doune Motor Museum but creating the Doune Hill Climb in his grounds which even today hosts a round of the British Hill Climb Championship.

Many years ago Douglas asked me to help him trace the history of his cars and I may well come back to the stories behind some of them in a future column. When I heard of his death I was reminded of the fact that he was the first person to let me drive a Bugatti.

Let me make it clear from the start, I am no Bugatti expert and I think I can give you a reason for this. I have always found Bugatti enthusiasts to be much more technically competent than enthusiasts for other marques. They have an appreciation of fine engineering and can talk knowledgeably on the subject on that level rather than the often subjective level to which enthusiasts of other marques revere their chosen cars. Despite having been an auto journalist for close on fifty years I was not blessed with a technical mind and so the lore of the Bugattiste has generally been beyond my technical comprehension: but I can appreciate fine engineering and the simple purity of design which is the mark of Bugatti.

It so happens that the only Bugatti I have ever driven was also a car with a fascinating history, a type 57SC Aravis Convertible.

Lord Douglas Doune was born and brought up in Bechuanaland but his father sold up his estates in Africa to return to the Scottish family seat, Darnaway Castle in the northern Scottish county of Morayshire.

Part of the family land was centred round the tiny hamlet of Doune near Stirling and Douglas, being the eldest son, became Lord Doune. And it was in the peaceful countryside of Doune that he started to collect cars. His taste was extremely catholic but had a keen interest in race cars and owned not one but two of the legendary 2900B Alfa Romeo’s, one of which was the actual Le Mans Coupe which almost won the race in 1938. However, one of the gems in his collection was the powder blue Bugatti.

Though I had seen many Bugatti’s before I had never come across the work of the French coachbuilder Gangloff and was struck by the elegance of the styling. This particular Gangloff shape was called the Aravis.

The car had been ordered from the Bugatti factory in 1938 by a successful Canadian businessman Duncan Orr-Lewis who had a villa in the South of France. What better way to travel on the grands corniches than in an elegant drophead Bugatti and so it was delivered to him later that year. However within a year World War II had begun and with the capitulation of France the Germans swept southwards and the Italians westwards to overrun the Riviera. Realizing what was about to happen, Orr-Lewis packed his bags and left the South of France leaving his precious Bugatti locked up in his villa.

When the War ended he returned to find the villa intact but the Bugatti gone. He then set out on a mission to find his car. The locals were able to tell him that his villa had been occupied by an Italian General and the General had been seen during the war on the corniche driving the Bugatti so that was the first clue. Just as Orr-Lewis had been forced to flee his villa at the start of the war, so the Italians were forced to flee the Riviera when the Allies arrived from North Africa to liberate the area. Orr-Lewis reasoned that the General might have tried to take the car back to Italy with him but knowing the problems of finding fuel at that time he started a search of all the little garages along the Riviera del Fiori on the Italian side of the border. By an amazing piece of luck his hunch proved correct and the car had clearly run out of gas and had been dumped in an Italian garage. He was able to re-possess it and with the War now over he sent the car back to Bugatti in Molsheim to be completely refurbished and checked over. So it was in the late 1940’s he was able to enjoy the car once more until he died and the car passed into the hands of his family. By pure good fortune Lord Doune was able to make contact with them and buy the car for his own collection.

Thankfully Lord Doune was an enthusiast and from the moment he bought it he had it taxed and registered in Scotland and used it in style. He was also generous with it and during a conversation about the car he suggested we go for a drive which led to the first surprise. This Bugatti was different from most as it was fitted with one of the Cotal electric gearboxes rather than the normal manual box. As a result you had a tiny bubble to the left of the steering column with a miniature gate and a gear change which was about three inches long and handled with finger and thumb.

Gangloff were true artists from the French school and this Bugatti had a long low look emphasised by sweeping chrome piping across the doors, rising over the rear wings and large chrome covers to the leading edges. Sadly modern legislation in Britain called for two ugly flashing indicators to be cut into those wide smooth front wings despite the fact that the neat semaphore indicators operate perfectly well. However to my mind the overall symmetry of the car is perfect from the precise cut of the hood, to maintain the line and yet still give headroom, to the traditional Bugatti dash and fittings.

The interior of the car was remarkably original and I must say I was slightly in awe of this car. Once started up there was that smooth whirring sound so familiar of supercharged Bugatti engines. A flick of the finger light switch and a tap on the clutch pedal and we were off.

I had never driven a car like this before. It was smooth and powerful but there was more than that, there was a feeling of great character. And it was quick.

Whilst Douglas Doune clearly enjoyed himself, in the passenger seat for once, we sped along at 70 mph with all the whirring and whining of the supercharger on full song and the wind blowing through our hair. This was truly an experience I would not forget and drank in every moment of it. Living as I do on that same French Riviera, where the original owner first drove the car, I could appreciate not only his taste but his choice. I have never driven a Bugatti since that day many years ago but I can live happily in the knowledge that I had at least driven this one.

Since then many things have changed, on the death of his father Lord Doune became the 20th Earl of Moray, one of the most famous names in Scottish history. Indeed there is an old Scots song which contains the line “….oh the bonnie Earl of Moray he micht ha been a king.” This referred to early history when a previous Earl came within a whisker of becoming King of Scotland. It struck me that the Bugatti would have been an ideal car for such a man. I last bumped into him about a year ago in Inverness, his eyes lit up and we talked of those days with his cars most of which he sold off when he closed the museum about ten years ago.