La rivista e il marketplace globale per gli appassionati di auto d’epoca, creati da appassionati.
La rivista e il marketplace globale per gli appassionati di auto d’epoca, creati da appassionati.
These two photographs raise a lot of questions, if one takes into consideration the caption: 'Maud, Gordon and Fido, Gleneagles, September 1917'. The first is whatever happened to the war? Gordon, we'd guess, is in his thirties, so should he not have been conscripted to fight for King and Country? There are two obvious possible answers to that - either he was exempted from service on medical grounds or he was making the most of a short period of leave.
Either way, he doesn't seem to have been too badly affected by the war. For all the hardship Britain was experiencing, his Renault is a very expensive motor-car and a drive to this secluded picnic spot through the mountain passes must have cost a bit in petrol. We wonder how lavish the picnic was. Was it a simple cheese and pickle sandwich with a flask of tea sort of affair, or was it some kind of Pomeroy-esque feast with quail eggs and Pommard?
Anyway, what captivates us most of all is the car itself, for it is positively humongous. It's clearly a Renault, and we've no doubt somebody could tell us what model - we wouldn't be surprised to learn it's a 50hp - but whoever would have expected to see it just with two-seater bodywork? A chassis like that would be a natural enough choice for a formal landaulet or a Roi-des-Belges sort of thing, but for just a two-seater we'd have thought something half as big would have been quite adequate. It must have been capable of some astonishing speeds. Maybe Gordon fancied himself as Scotland's answer to Henri Fournier...
Well, there we have it. Have we missed anything? There's just one thing - where's Fido? We can't see a dog anywhere. Surely Fido can't be Gordon's pet name for his Renault?
Words: Zack Stiling; photograph: Stiling Collection