Das weltweite Magazin und der Marktplatz für Oldtimer-Enthusiasten – von Enthusiasten.
Das weltweite Magazin und der Marktplatz für Oldtimer-Enthusiasten – von Enthusiasten.
Another gem from the files, which we’ve hidden far too long for you, dear reader. The thing is: we don’t know what it is. Oh yes, this has to be a Mercedes vehicle at a motor show in the late 1910s or early 1920s, with its sharply V-shaped radiator. But it’s certainly not your average example!
The outlandish paintwork is the first that strikes you, isn’t it? We wouldn’t be surprised to learn those patterns were made in silver- or gold foil. Surely something for a maharaja or nawab? Or just a show stopper to attract press and public at the motor show? The wheel discs set it apart also, don’t they? Even the tyre pattern seems bespoke?
Looking through historical photographs, we think the Mercedes 28/60 model comes closest, but then the Benz 27/70 shares a lot with this one, too. Crikey, or is it an 18/45? As always we love to be educated here. But if you really want to gain infamy with us today, please tell us more about this particular car’s background, even if it’s the smallest slice of information. We’re dead keen to hear from you.
Words by Jeroen Booij.
Don’t know who bought it but it was in London in December 1921 and not everyone’s cup of tea. The Tatler’s, J. A. Ashton, clearly venting post-WWI xenophobic, upper-class (please note, now 100-year old) British sentiments, wrote in his Petrol Vapours column:
"Jazz Bodies. The motor scribe in one of the “dailies," who wrote a lot about Jazz-bodies at Olympia, evidently without having been there at all, dropped a bad brick. We've much too much sense to go in for anything so putrid, except for racing jobs pure and simple, and that is something to be thankful for. On the other hand, the Boche simply loves the bizarre in carosserie, and never paints his cars less than about three colours, to say nothing of adopting the weirdest and most wonderful shapes. I guess the limit, however, was reached by a four-cylinder Knight-engined Mercedes which I saw in the West End just lately. It was exhibited, I'm told, at the Berlin Motor Show, where I'm sure all the Fritzes, and Hanses, and Berthas, big and little, fell down and worshipped it. As to the chassis, that's Merc, to the last rivet, and there's no more to be said. But the bodywork is an abomination before the Lord or before anyone else for that matter. It is made of polished metal, and the artist, unable to leave such an expanse alone, has engraved, etched, chased, or otherwise sunk into it, a hijjus [= hideous] decoration. "A pattern so gross that his soul sickened at the sight.” A pattern so florid, so nauseatingly North-German-Lloyd, so blatant, so meaningless, so tawdry that it would disgrace a bath room wall dado and that's saying a good bit. Ugh! How could they do these things? Jazz! Aren't you fed up with the beastly word? Some lunatic the other day was recommending that golf balls should be jazz-painted, and no doubt you heard about the johnny who tried to induce a hen to "sit" by painting her eggs with all sorts of comic designs and colours. No! Well, he lost money over it, for his outraged Rooster flew over the fence and killed his next-door neighbour's Peacock."
He contradicts it being a 28/95 by saying it had a Knight engine!? Would that make it a Mercedes-Knight 16/40-hp or 16/45-hp?