CHICHESTER, England — Everything seems to move faster than it used to. Whether it’s trendy memes or government systems, what was popular yesterday has no chance today. The same is true for cars. Every major model is expected to get a refresh every few years, followed by a complete reboot every five or six years.
In that context, the 21-year lasting power of Jaguar The XJS is truly remarkable, especially when you look at the decades it has been through.
Launched in 1975, the XJS (or XJ-S as it was originally known) lasted until 1996 before ending up in nine generations, all with minor visual changes that would have required an expert to spot the differences over its three decades of existence.
The 1996 model you see here is the latest model, but it still looks, feels, and even smells like a much older machine — though there’s some new tech added here and there to break up the nostalgic vibe.
This car is a British 4.0-liter inline-six with 242 horsepower and 289 pound-feet of torque sent through what is probably the slowest transmission I’ve ever encountered, a ZF four-speed automatic. But comfort, as it turns out, is the overarching feel of this car, something I’ve come to appreciate well before my time with this beautifully preserved example is up.
We didn’t get off to a great start. My test drive took place on a historic road. Good wood Circuit, best known for its high-end hooning game The annual Goodwood Revival.
I don’t drift or crash, thankfully, but the nature of my racing requires me to wear a helmet. That proves to be a minor issue.
I’m not 6 feet tall, and the XJS is not a small car, so without much thought I crawled in, ducking under the low convertible hood of the XJS. I hoped that once inside I could adjust the seat and get settled.
Anyone who has driven this before is obviously a little short as the seat is bolted upright and tight to the wood-rimmed steering wheel. Now properly jammed in and in a panic I punched at the rough plastic seat controls on the door only to quickly realise that the seat wouldn’t move unless the ignition was turned on. My knees were jammed so tight against the steering column that I couldn’t reach the ignition.
After a few tries, I got the key to turn and the seat to move. I had to recline the seat further and further before I could finally straighten my neck. This is the Corvette-like position I had to assume here, knees akimbo and arms outstretched.
My new comfortable seating position seems to match the aforementioned feel of the car, and now a little more comfortable, I take a moment to enjoy the cabin. It makes a good impression, the XJS. The walnut is beautifully polished, including the ball on the tall, skinny gearshift lever that you could mistake for a manual.
That lovely wood is punctuated by all sorts of things, though, some of which ruin the mood. There’s the polished metal ashtray, a lovely touch reminiscent of many a high-end GT car of the 60s, like Lamborghini 400 GT. This is a lovely relic from the early days of car design just inches away from less interesting relics: a clunky black plastic tape recorder and a digital clock.
The XJS thus offers more than just a flashback to the highlights and low points of the automotive industry over the past three decades.
Of course, the XJS is best known for its V12 engine. Alas, I drove the smaller 4.0-litre straight-six, which was so smooth I had no idea when to let go of the starter. To be honest, the engine didn’t sound much louder when I pulled into the Goodwood racetrack and started accelerating.
Goodwood is a generally simple but very beautiful track, mainly a series of multi-apical right-hand turns perfectly designed for cars with simple and rudimentary suspension. brake. These are descriptions that could certainly apply to XJS.
Turn the lacquered steering wheel to enter a corner, and there are a few wonderful moments when nothing happens. Be patient, though, and the long nose eventually begins its journey towards the inside of the corner. A moment later, the car’s outer doors begin their own journey down the asphalt.
Again, “relaxed” is the way to describe it, with the XJS leaning and snaking through corners without much haste or feedback. The brake pedal also has a long throw, and you’d best get used to exploring all its levels if you want to get this big convertible down to a reasonable speed before cornering.
At first I couldn’t help but laugh at how unsuitable the car felt at speed, but after a lap I started to feel comfortable. Again, thanks to the flowing nature of this track, the flowing nature of the XJS is quite enjoyable. The challenge is to pick the right amount of steering input at the start of a corner and keep it there until the apex without upsetting the suspension.
Keeping a steady, consistent line is the way to go, and when following such a gentle curve the XJS is actually surprisingly fun. Then, once I learned to floor the throttle a few seconds before peaking, I started to like the straight-six a little too.
When it finally works its way towards the upper limit of the 5,700 rpm tachometer, it also provides good thrust and sounds nice. However, I could only hear the engine over the wind, and even with the top up, it’s louder than many modern convertibles I’ve driven with the top up. down.
So it’s not ideal for a technical track (but who would take an XJS to one of those?), and that relaxed power delivery and handling will also leave you a little frustrated if you’re the type to lose patience when running between traffic lightsBut on a wide, smooth road with many miles ahead, I can see the XJS really being a worthwhile ride.
A little advice for buyers
Looking to bring an XJS into your life? The good news is you have 21 years of cars to choose from. But you’re more likely to find a clean example in the later generation, like the one you see here, which ran from 1991 to 1996.
There are two engine options: the 4.0-liter inline-six used here, and a V12 that’s grown from 5.3 to 6.0 liters. Which one is right for you? That depends on whether you want to maximize reliability or the number of moving parts. Either way, don’t expect to get a race car even with the larger engine. At its peak, that V12 made more than 300 horsepower, about 60 more than the straight-six. Today, neither of them feels like a spaceship.
According to Hagerty, a 1996 straight-six convertible like the one you see here will cost you $15,500 in good condition. Want a V12? You’ll pay $18,000 in similar condition. Just be sure to budget a little extra for maintenance. As always, it pays to do the work yourself, as problems with the car’s electrical system, rear suspension, and fuel system are common, and your friendly local mechanic will surely give you a premium price when he sees you driving one of these cars.
