of green, like the front and back of a leaf. The top was in beige, as was the side and back of the luggage cases at the rear, which were in a beige canvaslike material of very fine quality. The front seats were in dark brown leather and the rear seats were in wool, eventually replaced with green leather. My wheels were covered with beautifully formed disc covers.
My glorious coachwork was handcrafted by none other than the famous Milanese coachbuilder of royal carriages, Cesare Sala. Along with Castagna, he bodied most Isotta Fraschinis (you see, in our time no two automobiles from the more prestigious carmakers were alike– each had a specific body style, specially ordered colours, different upholstery; even if our parents were the same, no two siblings were alike). On my hood was the Spirit of the Wind, known also as Victoire, an exquisite French Lalique crystal mascot.

Elegance and style – that was me.
I was taken delivery of by a gentleman by the name of Franco Pacchetti who I understand, had bought me on behalf of another gentleman - just 19 years old, Syed Sajid Hussain, the Raja of Kotwara, was impatiently awaiting my arrival. I was picked up in London as a lot of money changed hands – I didn’t quite understand the value of things, but I must have been worth a lot. From what I gathered later, the young raja paid Rs 73,000, worth more than a Rolls-Royce or a Duesenberg, then!
He probably wanted me due to his anti-English sentiments. Whilst explaining his ancestry to a friend when travelling with me, I overheard that the raja was from a taluqdar family, taluqdars being essentially landed gentry. Their ancestry could be traced back to 200 BC, and the raja came from a bloodline that had been fairly rebellious I also learnt that in 1924 my new master, the young raja,

had ascende the throne when he was just 14 yearsold. Four years later he was sent off to the UK for higher education and after an attempt had been made on his life in 1926. In the UK he realized Cambridge did not allow students to own or drive cars on campus, so he moved to Edinburgh, where he was warmly received by a kindly poor Scottish family.
Whatever the reason, the young raja decided against a Rolls- Royce or a Bentley. He chose an Italian car designed to take on the best of Britain and France. Whilst Rolls went around claiming to be ‘the Best Car in the World’, we at Isotta Fraschini knew we were ‘the Aristocrat of Automobiles’, and so it came to pass that an Indian aristocrat with very refined taste became my master in 1929.
Raja Sajid Hussain, though, wasn’t the only Indian aristocrat to own a member of my family. in time, I learnt that in 1925, the Maharaja of Patiala – who was