There are some cars that are underwhelming when seen in person. Camera angles and optimistic artwork can turn some sow’s ears into a silk purse. When confronted with the object in vivo, it’s actually way smaller / bigger / ill-proportioned than it seemed on paper. That is definitely not the case with this Jaguar – photos barely do it justice.
When Sir William Lyons designed the Mk X, he gave its body an aggressive forward rake. On photos, it looks great. And I can assure you that it was also pouncing cat-like in the metal. It looks like it’s going full tilt even as it’s standing still, napping in the Alpine sun.
I’ve seen enough classic Jaguar saloons up close to know which ones are actually good-looking in real life. In my opinion, only the XJ6, the Mk 1 and the Mk X fall in that category. The S-Type and 420 are plain awkward, the Mk IX is too old-fashioned, the Daimlers are eyesores. The Mk 2 is fine, but I much prefer the more solid look of the Mk 1 original. But to each their own, of course. And this is all very relative: seeing any classic Jaguar is a worthwhile experience…
This was my first Mk X encounter in years. I remember seeing a couple in London in the late ‘90s, along with quite a few of their Daimler cousins. The Mk X sits so low and is so squat on its wheels – much more so than I ever remembered, but then new cars have grown much bigger in the past 20 years. Just look at that towering Twingo. I was awestruck by this green beauty. Yet, for all that feline design, the Jaguar Mk X was not a success.
A little slice of historical context might help us understand this outstanding car’s disappointing career. The Mk X is the first draft of the “definitive Jaguar saloon” that turned out to be the XJ6. A less tame version, in many ways, but in a sense also a size too large. The Mk X was aimed squarely at the American market, and said market liked a big car. So a big car they got. Damn near two meters wide, over five meters long – this Saville Row suit had Detroit measurements.
The Mk X initially borrowed its engine from the E-Type – a 3.8 L triple-carb version of the XK providing 265 hp (SAE/gross). That was nowhere near sufficient to claim the 125 mph / 200 kph top speed a car like this required, and it showed. Even in the beginning, when the range was straightforward, the Mk X was unable to really shine on top of it, what with the E-Type getting all the attention and the Mk 2 getting all the praise. Still, the Mk X got a nice little promo film made – in colour!
Sales were slow to take off, partly due to industrial action. But soon, there were some criticisms about the European automotive press regarding the Mk X’s heft. Perhaps Jaguar had erred on the side of caution for the car’s monocoque, which was over-engineered (and too heavy) to ensure it would not be repeating the Mk I’s squeaky performance – and that it could take the strain of the E-Type-style IRS.
Something had to be done to rescue the Mk X. The 1964 addition of the 4.2 L engine (still claiming 265 hp), along with a new manual gearbox to finally shake off the old Moss, made the Jaguar into a more convincing performer, though the magic 200 kph was never reached. The 3.8 L version, still produced for the European market, was nixed by 1965.
The Mk X gained a chrome bar on its grille, padding on its dash and a chrome strip on its flanks for MY 1967, becoming the 420 G. It carried on for four discreet years. Jaguar made just over 25,000 Mk X / 420 G saloons from late 1961 to 1970 – roughly split as 6000 420 Gs, 6000 Mk X 4.2 and 13,000 Mk X 3.8s. That really isn’t very impressive, for a nine-season run. So, what went wrong?
The Mk X was the apex predator within Jaguar’s increasingly complex saloon ranges. We’ve been over this before (such as when we saw the Jaguar 420 and the S-Type), but it bears repeating: Jaguar went a little overboard with the variants of variants, back in the day. Let’s look at those ‘60s Jags (and Daimlers, let’s not forget) saloons in all their sizes. All models, like our CC, are top-of-the-line – no 2.8 XJ6s or 3.4 S-Types here – except for the Mk 2, which is there to show the absolute minimum size of this generation of Jags.
The Daimler DS 420 is not just here to mirror the Mk 2 by showing how big these cars could get. Out of all these, it’s supposed to be the Mk X’s closest relative: they share the same suspension, engine and floorpan. “It’s basically a 4.2 litre Mk X stretch limousine,” I thought, naively. Not quite – in fact, it’s bigger in every way. It’s also enlightening to compare the stats of the Mk X vis-à-vis its immediate predecessor, the Jaguar Mk IX, and its rightful successor, the LWB XJ12 – and also alongside its ugly cousin, the Majestic Major.
The Daimler was as good (if not slightly better) as the Mk X in almost all respects. New 4.5 litre (actually, being 4561cc, it ought to be called a 4.6) hemi-head V8, or ancient XK? Even in LWB limousine guise, the Maj-Maj had better acceleration than the Jaguar – a telling factoid not lost on contemporary reviewers, who often rehashed it when comparing the big Daimler and the big Jag. The Daimler, however, was built to a price. And that price, in saloon form, was about 25% higher than the Jaguar Mk X. And its looks were really so hopelessly and completely awkward and dated that it’s a wonder they managed to sell any.
The existence of the S-Type and the 420 bear witness to the Mk X’s alarming lack of commercial appeal. Lyons projected sales of 15,000 units a year, including two-thirds in America, but the American clients never showed up. Around two-thirds of all Mk Xs were built as RHD – this was particularly flagrant in the early 3.8L cars, which was a source of tremendous worry for Jaguar. It’s interesting to ponder why the Mk X was such a failure over in the States. The Jag’s 6-cyl. was perhaps a bit too small for its jowls. Americans wanted a big engine to go with a big car. Rolls heard them loud and clear, switching to 8-cyl. mode in 1959. Jaguar had a perfect candidate in the Daimler V8, but rejected it as Not Invented Here…
What this car should have been is the Jaguar Mk X “4.5 hemi,” able to reach 135 mph and conquer the hearts and wallets of the colonial cousins. At least one Mk X was tested with the Daimler V8 – it was a revelation, apparently. But in the end, Lyons decided against the idea. It is said that supply for the V8 would have been difficult to secure. I don’t know: only 2044 Daimlers with the 4.5L V8 were made from 1962-68. That’s ten times fewer than the 2.5L V8 Daimler also made. Surely, they weren’t running that line at full capacity.
And of course, they were working on the V12 in those years. It came too late for the Mk X, unfortunately. Although the Jaguar V12’s reputation is not exactly stellar, it would have suited the Mk X better than any other pre-XJ6 design. Some V12 prototypes were tested on the Mk X. Imagine that coming out in ’67, instead of the 420 G. Such an august – yet low and ready to pounce – automobile would have obliterated Rolls’ US sales, not to mention Mercedes-Benz’s.
If you were a Mk IX owner, looking to trade to a newer Jaguar circa 1967, what would you go for: a Mk X / 420 G or a smaller – but not ridiculously so – and even cheaper “plain 420,” or perhaps you have so much dough that you might consider the old Daimler Double Maj? There are merits in all three. The 420 is sufficiently roomy for four adults and goes a bit quicker. The Daimler has that lovely engine. But surely, you’re going to stick to the biggest and best Jaguar can offer? Need I remind you that, especially compared to the 420 or the Daimler, the Mk X is an absolutely stunning automobile?
Price was always Jaguar’s strong point: you always seemed to get more than what you paid for. But prices were very different from one market to another. In the UK, the Mk X 4.2 retailed for about £2380 (auto gearbox, tax included) in 1966 – only £100 more than the 3.8’s 1962 launch price. This is remarkably stable – Jaguar worked hard to control costs in the early ‘60s, it seems they were successful. Over in the US, it cost $7384 in 1962, i.e. around $1000 more than a Cadillac Sixty Special Fleetwood. But I don’t have that much more pricing data to compare these to. What I do have, predictably, are prices for the 1963 French market. T’was a weird place, 1963 France: the only 6-cyl. “domestic” car on offer was the Belgian-built 3.2L Rambler, sold by Renault at FF 18,200. Far too cheap for this company. Here’s a more appropriate selection.
Price-wise, the Facel and the Lagonda represent the outer markers of this type of car, beyond which only behemoths such as the Bentley S3 or the Cadillac Fleetwood 75 lie (though a Series 62 only cost about the same as the Daimler). In this strange world, the Jag was faced with increasingly irrelevant (in this market) American cars of the most traditional sort, with a huge V8, wallowing ride and no brakes. These were not particularly prestigious cars, either. Having almost caused the company’s collapse, the BMW V8 was finally on its way out – but Mercedes’ 300-engined Fintail saloon was a dangerous rival. Especially when the thorny issue of quality is concerned…
Jaguar did not make cars the way Facel or Lagonda did, either. They were wizards in making their cars look expensive, but actually sold them for about a 25-30% of the price of a Rolls (in the UK). Production methods were completely different, but also a lot of the cheapness was in the materials used in making the cars.
Each Mk X body delivered by Pressed Steel, for instance, had to be laboriously inspected at Browns Lane – major defaults were usually corrected, but not all niggles could be caught. The walnut burl was wafer thin, the leather and carpets less plush, and the fit and finish were of a different standard than the “true” blue-bloods. Plus, the engine, great though it was, was a 6-cyl. from the ‘40s. (Et tu, Lagonda? Et tu?)
Though no spring chicken by 1966, the mighty XK engine, in 4.2L / triple-carb guise and mated to a Borg-Warner automatic, fits the car very well. It sounds gorgeous, even inside the car: Jaguar put a lot less effort in sound-deadening compared to Bentley or Cadillac. Partly for sporty image reasons, partly to keep the price down. Also, those trademark Jaguar separate fuel tanks are monitored by a single gauge on the dash, with a switch to toggle between the left and right fuel tanks. You had better be vigilant with that: Madame X is a thirsty cat. We’re talking 12 mpg (US), or 20 litres / 100 km, on average. American-sized all the way.
I always found mild amusement in English carmakers’ ability to think small. Having one gauge for two fuel tanks is a good example, but for another, take the placement of the gear selector. To put it where it ought to be (i.e. right-hand in LHD cars and left-hand in RHD cars) would require designing, produce and assembling two mirror-image steering columns – just like many carmakers did with manual column-shifters. Not great if you’re producing small volumes. Instead, as they began to include the increasingly popular automatic gearbox in their products, many British luxury carmakers put the selector on the right for domestic / RHD cars, thereby having only to make one steering column + autobox lever assembly. This had been the case even in the Wilson pre-selector days, which were also mounted on the right of the steering wheel, regardless of the wheel’s placement. I believe Rolls-Royce still use this layout, but Jaguar’s shifters followed the trend and migrated to the floor with the XJ6.
It was hard to stop taking photos of this gorgeous Mk X, laying in this idyllic setting of a quiet French village square. This car is a perfectly designed mode of transport for well-heeled Englanders escaping Brexit fatigue by doing one last Grand Tour, spending their remaining (ha ha) Euros at restaurants and petrol stations across the EU. Of course, this car obviously has French plates, which makes my whole scenario somewhat moot. But it’s the perfect car, down to the colour and steering wheel placement, to do this kind of long-distance road trip.
It’s a pity I never got to see it drive away – just a glimpse, as it sped off out of sight. This concludes my recent catches in France: a classic car meet, three twins (Honda, DAF, Panhard) and this here big six. Not bad for ten days. But that was weeks ago. I’m writing this amidst Bangkok’s suffocating summer, waiting for the monsoon to start turning the city into an open-air sauna. If nothing else, this Mk X takes me back to the freshness and the brightness of that particular day.
Curbside Classic: Jaguar Mark X – Curvaceous Coventrian, by Perry Shoar
Automotive History Tidbit: The Automatic Version of the Jaguar Mk X 3.8 L Was Just As Fast As the Manual Version and Got Better Mileage, by PN
CC Global: A 420G Fits In Anywhere; Well, Maybe., by Pikesta
I think one of the reasons it didn’t really kick off in the US is because it looked too much like a 50 Mercury, not enough like a MkIX and nothing at all like a 61 Continental.
Nevertheless, one of the most handsome vehicular shapes ever created in the history of everything. Period.
Thanks; you beat me to it.
The failure of the Mk X in the US was the key reason it failed overall, and as Don pointed out, it looks like a chopped top car: appealing to some, in the same way any very low and racy looking car looks to aficionados, but that’s very much not what the primary market wanted. The big Marks, ending with the IX, had been very successful in the US because they managed to combine a certain athletic look along with the inherent prestige that comes with height.
I’m sorry, but look at this Mk X in profile, and it looks microcephalic. And like it melted in the sun, with much of the mass of its greenhouse ending up on its bulging sides. American big Jag buyers were older, successful types, and trying to climb down in a very low racy big Jag like this was not what they wanted.
Note that the XJ6 initially had the same problem, with a green house to low and small. But it lacked the huge hips and was better proportioned. Looked great to lovers of sporty cars, but very tight to get in and out of, and be in. The XJ6 did not really take off in the US until the Series III came out with its longer wheelbase, raised roof and larger greenhouse.
Meanwhile, Mercedes was making hay with its fintail sedans, which were everything that the MkX wasn’t:: tall, boxy, roomy, obviously extremely well finished, exuding quality and prestige.
William Lyons laid a very big, fat egg with the MkX. He ruined a very good business selling large prestige sedans in the US, and handed it over to MBZ.
I’m with Paul on this one – the car is too wide and dumpy visually. Bulging sides, wheels lost in the arches, strangely narrow glasshouse….no, doesn’t work for me.
Best looking Jag ever was the XJ-C 2 door Coupe, best looking XJ saloon was the series 3 with the Pininfarina adjusted roofline. IMHO. Teh current XJ is ageing better you might have expected, especially in the correct darker colours.
Sir, it is more one of the most handsome of vehicular shapes ever created – it is several, and they aren’t complimentary. See below for full lecture.
Sir, your churlish attempts at humour, like the limpest of challenge gloves, have failed to find solid flesh on this occasion and merely stir the air with the faintest flap of a butterfly wing. Your ‘appraisal’, for want of a better word, sits exactly where it should; in les bas fonds of this comment stream.
I have luxuriated in the sumptuous bosom of Madame X (or more exactly Mademoiselle 420G) for two trips from Adelaide to Melbourne and back (including a side trip to Shepparton for a photo shoot). She is as agile as she is comely, such that my esteemed colleague Papa Squid who ran the fastest Pulsar in Adelaide was surprised at her takeup when proffered a drive.
I beseech you to ignore this present trend for athletic bodies, so distorted in today’s insta-influenza, and harken back to a time when ampleness in flesh was the most patrician of womanly attributes. Waste not your evident talent on such an ill-advised musing, and (has been suggested by others) write a piece for us here at CC that is a truer reflection of the sophistication that lurks wantingly in some of your typings.
Vegemite-slinging at its finest!
Sorry Justy, I’m on Dottore Andreina’s camp on this one. But I’ll duck out the way quickly if slinging resumes. (A national atavism on my part, no doubt.)
This is a properly good looking car, probably the best shape to ever come out of Coventry in my opinion. At first, I never got the cult-like fanaticism around Jags, but with these, count me as a believer of the true faith.
As for the whole steering column shifter placement kerfuffle, Rolls Royce still does use this set up even today. Whether LHD or RHD, the column shifter to the right remains alive and well. Granted, it’s more in the modern Mercedes style of “Up for reverse, down for drive, button for park.” rather than the standard PRNDL setup of old, but it’s still with us in the 21st century.
Rolls Royce used to put the manual floor shifter to the right of the drivers’ seat when they still made manuals. Many other premium cars did as well.
BMC did that with the Wolseley 6/90 and series 2 Isis, probably to make them seem more upmarket.
Yes, I remember seeing those (Bentley had that too, right?), with the little dent on the right of the driver’s seat to give the lever some room to maneuver.
But did the LHD versions also place the manual shifter “on the wrong side”?
Rolls still do, BMC used to as noted below (the Wolseley 18/85 Landcrab had a little sprouting from the dash itself) and Citroen still use the same column arrangement (lever on the right) on the C4 Picasso/Spacetourer for LHD and RHD markets, just as they did with the DS.
Although the Mk X was a little too big (the SWB XJ6 was the perfect size for such I car) I’ve always liked it, partly because it looked far more modem than the MK 2.
I understand that prototypes were tested with quad cam versions of the V12 and even with the car’s weight and bulk were able to reach 150mph.
Sadly, I never shared the Mark X love. I always thought the midriff looked too wide for the greenhouse, or for the nose and tail treatment, or indeed for the cars’ track. Last time I stood in front of one, which admittedly was about 50 years ago, the car seemed to have all the grace of an elephant ( it was a grey car…).
I never paid much attention to these back when. In fact, my only exposure would have been through Matchbox cars and the rare mention in a book or periodical. In my midwestern youth I would see the occasional XJ sedan, but don’t ever recall seeing one of these.
Now I find these simply stunningly beautiful. A powerful V8 engine might have done the trick in the US. Then again, perhaps the styling was not modern enough (as the XJ sedan would soon prove). But I would most happily adopt one for myself, with the bonus of getting to say “Jag-you-ar” a lot.
To my eyes, I see many exterior styling cues and shapes of this Jag that were incorporated into the last generation Lincoln Town Car.
I was never a fan of this edition either.
Now, the first XKE…..yowzaaa!
Your comparison tables are fascinating, but I’m afraid you left out the most important dimension in this case: height.
The MkX was only 54 inches tall, about as low as it gets. Or the same as a typical modern sports car.
Its predecessor, the stately Mk IX, was 63″ tall, almost a foot taller!
And the very popular Mk1 and MkII were 58″ tall, a full 4″ taller than the MkX, despite being the true sporty Jag saloon.
This is the crux of the MkX’s Deadly Sin: To replace the prestigious Mk IX and compete with the Mercedes fintail (height: 59.4″) with a car that looked like it had been chopped and channeled like a custom ’49 Mercury.
Well, when you say it like that…
But wouldn’t a Mk X with a higher roof be kind of similar to a LWB 420? Then I’m not sure the height gained would work well either. It certainly doesn’t work on the 420 / S-type, where the Mk X-esque rear doesn’t blend well at all with the higher Mk2-esque greenhouse.
It’s very true that I really should have added the height data — I’ll do it when I have a minute or two and update the first graph. It’s interesting how the closest models who are not “blood-related” are the 420 and the XJ6, measurements-wise. Lyons obviously realized he had overshot the mark with the X and basically re-created the 420 as a coherent design.
Increased height would have been needed to be part of the whole design, so it was organic. The problem with the MkX was not just the overall height, but the proportion of the greenhouse to the lower body. The greenhouse is just too small in comparison to the lower body. And too short. look at how far back the windshield starts from the cowl.
Here’s a comparison to the Pininfarina-designed refresh of the XJ6. I assumed it was several inches higher than the X, but it’s actually just about the same, at 54.21″. But the proportions are much better.
The Series I and II XJ suffer from the same problem; too low of a roof, and their height was even lower, at 52.75″. Have you ever sat in one, or driven one. Very very tight. Truly like getting into a sports car but one that has four doors and a back seat, albeit a very tight back seat. The reality is that the swb XJ6 might have looked better (and sold better) than the X/420G, but it was still a ver flawed package, at least for Americans. The lwb version had an actually usable back seat, but the roof was still tight.
The Series III solved these issues by standardizing on the lwb chassis, and raising the roof some 1.75″. Not a lot, and it was still not a genuinely roomy car, but it took away the claustrophobia of the earlier cars. And the sales of the Series III really took off dramatically in the US. It’s waht the market wanted in the first place.
Jaguar learned too late the folks who buy a luxury sedan, even a sporty one, don’t want to be crammed and jammed in it.
Note: these two in the picture below are both about 54″ tall.
If Jag had wanted the X to be a real S-Class competitor, the solution would have been to have a similarly larger/taller greenhouse on it as the Series III XJ6 does, which would have resulted in about a 58-59″ tall car, given that the X’s beltline was higher to start with. Maybe someone with PS skills can graft the XJ’s greenhouse on the X? Or just lengthen and raise its existing greenhouse be a few inches. Nothing radical like a limo; just enough to cure its microcephaly.
Here’s 10% more height on the greenhouse. Length has been adjusted too, pushing the front screen a little forward and slightly extending the rear door window into the rear pillar, but keeping front and rear screen rakes the same. Not sure this would give the full 4″ though.
Thanks; that’s good! pretty much exactly as I imagined it.
Now to put those flanks on a diet…
It’s, it’s just too overweight small head big bum
These were never popular new or used. My friend was a dealer and said they were hard to move. I was a Judge at sanctioned Jaguar shows for more than a decade and maybe saw one of two in competition. The 3 carb set up was cannibalized for Series 2 E Types.
They were blown out of the water by the arrival of the XJ6, although XJ6’s didn’t come to Central Ohio until 1970; again per my friend the dealer.
Wow! They could have had the Diamler V-8! No need to develop the V-12 at all then.
In some alternate dimension, there is a universe much like ours, but where Jaguar used the Daimler V8 for 30 years, on all its cars bar the E-Type (and maybe the base Mk 2) by 1965. The XK engine goes out of production in 1969 — all Jaguars are now V8s, with new 3.0 fuel-injected models introduced in 1972 for the XJ8 and a 5.0 for the E-Type’s successor and the LWB models. These, plus the XJ40, carry on with Turner’s V8 throughout the ’80s and into the ’90s…
When it comes to the luxury car comparo, I think I’d pick the Merc for owner-driven. It seems to be the edge of paying more actually bringing appropriately more functionality.
My budget option is the Rover P5, although as a saloon rather than a coupe – my 188 centimetres would likely interfere with the low roof, and the same would likely happen in the Jag.
The cost-no-object choice is the Facel. A big, nicely-built cruiser with a proper ‘Murican V8 and a higher roof than the Lagonda.
For being chauffeured, the Vanden Plas is #1. Sure, it ain’t much of a driver’s car, but you ain’t much of a driver when you’re in the back.
I’m with you on the Facel and the Benz, but not the Rover. If some folks feel, as is apparent in this thread, that the Mk X’s roof is too small / low for its own good, I suggest they look at the P5 “coupe” — now that’s a chopped roof.
I might be tempted by the Chrysler. I like those looks, very non-conformist. Even the Mercury merits a second look. But I’d have to go with the Lancia. It’s just a jewel.
I suggest they look at the P5 “coupe” — now that’s a chopped roof.
I just did the measurements: the Rover P5 Coupes green house (from belt line molding to roof top) is 36.6% of the body’s total height (from sill to roof top). The Mk X’s? 36.3%.
Looks can be deceiving. 🙂
Sure, the Rover’s C pillar leans more forward, but it is a genuine coupe, and not pretending to be a sedan.
That graceful continuous arc of the beltline the Jag sports and the longer length compared to the boxy stubby Rover body likely feeds that deception.
Similarly, compare chopped top 49 Mercs vs Chopped top 55-56 Chevys, one looks far more natural than the other. I’d say the same applies here
I understand about the cramped ceiling, etc. (although I’ve never sat in one), but what this shape had was poise. That last photo, especially, shows it.
It seems most odd, what, that Jaguar would skimp on burl walnuts and cow pieces yet let their creation eat all the pies without restraint. Maybe it was a contest, in which case Madame X won. Though not to her the benefit of her figure, where the pies gathered in bulk on her hips, and her hat couldn’t be raised more than 54 inches above the floor (either that, or, in her post-prandial torpor, she accidentally donned the topping of a much smaller and certainly narrower model). Her jowls and face spread out until in panic they had to add some strange little decorative round jewellerys to fill in the space from her (inner) eyes to her rather wide nose. Her legs remained stubbornly spindly, and hid (and continue to hide) in embarrassment somewhere in towards the middle of her body, where they are hard not to mistake for castors.
She does have a nice backside, something that can never be missed as it takes up two lanes and a bit of sidewalk.
It becomes obvious when these unfortunate side-effects of her greed are made apparent why it is she runs out of breath short of her competitors and uses excessive resources in doing even that.
Your opening gambit, Msr T, is precisely the opposite of her bodily reality. She is the original Curate’s Egg, “good in parts, sir, I assure you”. Just not viewed whole. This becomes doubtless when the XJ6 appears briefly in your collection of photos, for despite its commonness, the sight of it after staring at the gone-to-seed-earlier version in Madame X brings aesthetic relief. It -IT -is the most beautiful mass made sedan ever made.
As they say, your mileage may vary (though in a MkX, not much), and as you also include that claustrophobe’s nightmare which is the thickly-drawn Mk1 in your list of the best, it would seem clear that you like ’em large. I also do not complain usually when that is how they are, but there is a limit.
In short, you are disastrously wrong on this absolutely bloodless objective topic, a rare slip that I am confident we shall not see again. Ofcourse, as to presentation it is to your usual matchless standards, but your mark cannot be a full ten today in light of this egregious error.
Much more eloquently said than I was capable of.
You make a compelling case, but I cannot acquiesce.
Good in parts but not in whole? The S-Type and the 420, surely. The Mk X is a whole. A whole lot, but a whole nonetheless. It came off as too large — I can’t fail not to disagree with you there. Lyons himself recognized this.
But as bulging and Rubensesque as it may be, it has kept the poise and the class of its kin. And it’s no reason to start fat-shaming the poor Jag — it was merely pregnant with the XJ6.
For without the Mk X as we know it, the XJ6 cannot happen. For that alone, Mr Baum, I urge you to look deep into your heart and find the words to say that the Jaguar Mk X was a step too far in the right direction.
Oooh! I love this car…. A good Jag is a mix of styles, a tweed jacket with a badass tattoo, classy and classless, a rude gesture and a polite smile, this car has it..
Exactly! Very well put.
As usual there are a couple of these Madam X about locally, manual versions are I’m told very rare Ive seen one at a show it seems most buyers went for the automatic. Not my favourite Jag sedan nor it seem was it with the buying public when it was new.
Sexiest Jag ever.
Great article and I love the comparisons charts/diagrams you created. Nice work! That said, I am kind of on the same page as others here that I don’t see the appeal in Mk X. I agree it looks a bit too much like a lead sled ’50 Merc left in the sun to melt. I much prefer the styling of the XJ series that followed. That said, this is a marvelous find and it is a car that I can appreciate, even if it isn’t my favorite styled Jag.
Bringing up this car’s failure in America reminds me of the C/D article that compared the six luxury cars:
Of note, the Jag finished dead last. If the Jag couldn’t even win over the more Import friendly C/D editors, good luck with the rest of America.
I’m not even going to try and be as eloquent and amusing as Don and Justy or as detailed as Paul and Tatra. I just came here to say that I’ve never seen one of these in person but now I really want to, having seen those dimensions above. In photos, it looks gorgeous to me. The fact that is so long and low, while evidently not conducive to actual sales when new, makes it so very appealing to me. What a stunning car, albeit in a rather rubenesque (yet rakish) way.
You’ll like it even more in the metal, probably. it really is quite impressive. There’s not a straight line on it apart from the doors and the bumpers. It looks like it’s about to slip away from behind, and like it’s about to eat you from the front. It’s big and low and slathered in chrome on the outside, and wood and leather on the inside — what’s not to like?
Rather late here, but a magnificent article on a magnificent car – my dream car for 30+ years now. I love the styling, inside and out – and the gunslit windows certainly foreshadow some of today’s efforts. Make mine two-tone silver and black, with green Sundym glass, red leather, and the optional power windows and air-conditioning. Oh, and a Webasto roof. Perfection!
A beautiful and underrated car. Particularly now, in its day for sure it was perceived as being to large but that is no longer an issue with cars growing disproportionately in size.