From John D. Rockefeller to Howard Hughes, eccentricity has long permeated the great minds of modern industry. This axiom is equally true of the pioneers of the automotive world, as demanding personalities and unbridled vision were hallmarks of quite a few automotive visionaries, ranging from Henry Ford and Gottlieb Daimler to Enzo Ferrari and Dr. Ferdinand Porsche. Few among them, however, compared with Ettore Bugatti, an icon of another era whose name has largely been relegated to the shelves of wild-eyed automotive historians and the opulent garages of equally admiring car collectors.

Mr. Bugatti was that rare combination of engineer and craftsman, a self-taught groundbreaker who often discarded the rules and held fast to cherished principles. Cognoscenti will surely recognize Bugatti’s name from his eponymous car company, one that dominated European motor racing of the 1920s and produced some of the most sensational and timelessly beautiful cars during the 1930s. Teenage boys and supercar enthusiasts will also recognize the name from the celebrated Bugatti Veyron, a 2006 exotic sports car that has become a modern benchmark for performance with its 16-cylinder, W-shaped engine fed by four turbochargers and capable of producing an unprecedented 1,000 units of horsepower.

Between the Grand Prix victories of the 1920s and the debut of the Veyron earlier this decade, much has changed with the Bugatti Company; yet despite the shifts, a constant appreciation for the values and guiding genius of Ettore Bugatti, who died in 1947, has faithfully steered the company through multiple owners and two world wars. Part of Bugatti’s unique success is surely attributable to Ettore’s multinational identity; an Italian by birth and rearing, but essentially French by preference, Bugatti relocated his automobile company in 1909 to a small town called Molsheim (pronounced Molts-hime), located in Alsace, France, the long disputed border region shared by Germany which was then under the Kaiser’s control. All three European nations continue to function as Bugatti DNA to this day, as the company was resuscitated for a short time by an Italian company during the 1990s, and then again by the VW Group in 1999. Essentially, this was, and still is, a company of Italian verve, French refinement and German engineering.

Ettore Bugatti himself was a man of stubborn independence, engineering genius and egalitarian values. Immensely capable of creating and understanding drawn designs, Bugatti was adept at quickly detecting flaws or approving innovations with a mere glance at a drawing. When locating his fabled factory in Molsheim, he chose an old farm-like dye-works estate that gave his institution an atmosphere of aesthetic craftsmanship: a contrast to the cold, mechanical efficiency of the mass-producing industrial factories that were sprouting up elsewhere. He patrolled his production floors and shared personal relationships with many, if not all, of his employees. This was a man who lived and breathed his creations while instilling his company with the very values that marked his eccentric genius.

During the 1920s and 30s, Bugatti regularly fielded racecars that routinely beat the day’s best Bentleys and Delages. His Type 35 is regarded as one of the finest racecars ever built, and to this day catches the eyes of classic car collectors when they occasionally change hands at the auction block for millions of dollars.

Bugatti’s fine cars and his commitment to racing also earned the devotion of a select group of racecar drivers who represented the finest in competition and sportsmanship; names like Louis Chiron, Achille Varzi, and Pierre Veyron floated in and out of this circle; Robert Benoist and Willie Grover-Williams would later lead double lives as trained French Resistance operatives who would eventually meet with tragic executions at Buchenwald; Rene Dreyfus would race in the Indy 500, become an American citizen, sign up to fight under Patton in North Africa and open his own restaurant in New York (which enjoyed great success for several decades). Different than today’s comparable talented motor sports competitors, this group of racecar drivers was more like an elite club of brothers: men of sophisticated character and daring exploit.

Between its heroic drivers, beautiful and powerful cars, and a fairy tale-like factory, Bugatti (the company) possesses a rich tapestry of heritage that will be celebrated this year as the marque commemorates its 100^th anniversary. The celebration has included a feature spotlight at this year’s Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, where Bugatti was the subject of two dedicated classes of judging. Among the group of Bugattis displayed by doting collectors is one gargantuan model that stood out above the others: a 1932 Type 41 Royale owned by the Bugatti company. One of only six produced, the Royale was Ettore Bugatti’s attempt to create the finest, largest and most powerful motorcar that Europe had ever seen. Its 12-liter engines were so powerful that Bugatti eventually implemented them in a train he created. As its name suggests, the Royale was designed and built with the intention of being marketed to the day’s monarchs; however, the unfortunate coincidence of the Great Depression destroyed that dream, and only three of the six cars were sold, none of which were to royalty.

The official auction of Pebble Beach, held in concert with the Concours d’Elegance by renowned auctioneer Gooding & Company, helped further celebrate the anniversary of Bugatti. Among the many fine lots offered at the two-day sale, one Bugatti received a wealth of attention from collectors, historians and enthusiasts: a 1938 Type 57C with one-of-a-kind coachwork that was said to have been owned and driven by Ettore Bugatti himself. Such provenance is difficult to match, so no one was surprised when the car sold for a high bid of $1.25 million dollars (which, when coupled with the auctioneer’s premium, made for a sale price of $1.375 million).

Few people are as qualified to discuss Bugatti’s glorious past as Julius Kruta, a lifelong enthusiast who now serves as the company’s official head of tradition. Kruta’s encyclopedic knowledge of Bugatti, the man and the marque, illuminates just how Ettore Bugatti’s eccentric genius served to propel the company in its success and legend. Most importantly, it would seem, Ettore Bugatti played the part: from his sometimes-colorful personal behavior, to his eye-catching everyday dress. “He was flamboyant; he was outgoing; he was extravagant. He was an entertainer,” explains Kruta, who works from the revived factory in Molsheim. He explains that while contemporary competitors like W.O. Bentley or Louis Delage were dressed like businessmen or engineers, Bugatti was “like somebody dressed for theater.” This practice apparently stretched all the way to his shoes and socks, which were specially designed with individual toes sleeves, like gloves.

Kruta easily recalls anecdotes that depict Ettore Bugatti’s individualistic nature. For instance, as he was a dedicated equestrian who kept several stables at the Molsheim grounds, Ettore often surveyed his estate on horseback. Occasionally, when potential customers would visit to inspect a car for purchase, Bugatti would greet them from the vantage of his mount, a practice that intoned a psychological superiority or condescension as he looked down upon his visitor: not necessarily the best approach to ensure a sale. On one occasion, a visiting customer arrived in a taxicab that happened to be made by Opel, a mass-produced German brand that dealt in far more mundane and pedestrian cars than Bugatti. Ettore refused to sell the man one of his cars, suggesting that no man who dared arrive in an Opel was worthy of a Bugatti.

Another anecdote involves the potential sale of the massive Royale. According to the story, after King Carol of Romania visited Molsheim to inspect a Royale for possible purchase, he dined with Bugatti that evening. Apparently Bugatti was so offended by the king’s lack of table etiquette that he refused to sell him the car, reasoning that the car was too sophisticated for its suitor. Kruta concedes this story is probably untrue, for given the harsh economic climate of the Depression era, and a lack of buyers for the outrageously expensive Royale, it seems likely that Bugatti would not have passed on a potential sale, no matter how objectionable the buyer’s manners may have been. Still, Kruta stresses, with Ettore Bugatti, “anything was possible.”

It is amply clear from Kruta, and a host of other documented sources, that Ettore Bugatti did not lack personal ostentation, and his persona may well have stopped just short of grandiose. Take, for example, the naming of his eldest daughter, L’Ebe, who wrote a biography of her father in 1967, at age 64. Possessing quite an unusual name, it seems that L’Ebe was actually named for her father’s initials. Bugatti’s genius merited his confidence, however, and those that worked with him and knew him were far more enamored of his warmth of character and engaging human spirit than alienated by what some might construe as vanity.

Endlessly prolific, Bugatti held well over 900 patents, most of which were for mechanical designs and the tools to create them. Not merely confined to automotive interests, Bugatti tinkered in aero engines and actually won an aero engine contract with the U.S. government just prior to the cessation of World War I hostilities (the war’s end resulted in the contract’s cancellation). He also designed a yacht and a train; the train was actually powered by the engines from his Royale. Remarkably well engineered, these trains remained in service in France into the late 1950s. Ettore also invented a number a medical instruments, including a retractor of sorts that he created for a friend who served as a surgeon at the Strasbourg hospital. According to Kruta, this instrument remains in wide use to this day. Testifying to his appreciation of fine leisure when not working, Bugatti also distilled his own plum brandy.

The last 50 years have seen dramatic ups and downs for the Bugatti Company. An old man by the time World War II unfolded, Ettore Bugatti evacuated from Molsheim at the onset of the blitzkrieg and was forced to sell his factory to the Nazis at a fraction of its true value; the factory was then used to produce torpedoes, military watercraft and the feared V-1 flying bomb. Following the war’s conclusion, Bugatti faced politically charged accusations of war profiteering and struggled to regain ownership of his estate. After exonerating himself and re-acquiring the Molsheim factory in 1947, he caught pneumonia and died soon thereafter. His company could not stand without him, and like other great French pre-war marques, such as Delahaye and Voisin, Bugatti (the company) withered and died, seemingly poised to forever pass on to the realm of history.

Such a rich history and strong brand name could not be ignored forever though, and accordingly, in 1991, an Italian named Romano Artioli bought the rights to the Bugatti name and began producing a new supercar which he dubbed the EB110 (a monogram of Ettore Bugatti coupled with what would have been his age at the time). Fast, powerful, and undeniably attractive, the EB110 had the misfortune of arriving just as the bubble burst on the bloated supercar market of the time. As recession deepened, the market for such cars disappeared, and with a lack of customers, the new Bugatti Company’s days were numbered.

A few short years later, another prospective buyer surfaced: one far better equipped to invest in the production of a new supercar and weather any temporary financial loss that might accompany it. The VW Group had already acquired Bentley and Lamborghini, and now resuscitating Bugatti would prove to be their coup de grace. Julius Kruta proudly suggests that Bugatti’s fine heritage and renown has played no small part in the company’s cyclical resurgence. “There is no other marque on the planet that had been dead for such a long time and was still remembered,” he said.

Accolades for the Veyron have abounded since its 2006 debut; indeed, to drive it, sit in it, or to merely look at it, elicits awe and envy. VW took their time in manufacturing the Veyron, and their efforts have paid off, resulting in a car that is flawlessly engineered and tailored with the most subtly stylish of interiors. Though dimensions, power plants and the overall appearance of supercars have changed drastically since Ettore Bugatti’s heyday, Kruta believes that the Veyron is an appropriate continuation of the Bugatti legacy.

“When you look at the shape of a Veyron, it doesn’t resemble any other car that already existed. It is not another retro design, and it’s not another Italian wedge. It looks different and it incorporates in its design the famous dual tone color scheme of the Bugattis of the late 20s and 30s. And [there is] also the perfection and the attention to detail, which [is what] made Bugatti special.”

While admirers patiently await Bugatti’s next model, the marque has created an open top version of the Veyron called the Grand Sport, a name that recalls the Type 43 Grand Sport of the 1930s. Unveiled at the 2008 Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, only 150 models of the Grand Sport will be produced, a limited production that further guarantees the model’s long-term value; the company just started sending deliveries of the beautiful car to its select clientele last June.

Like its brother, the Veyron, the Grand Sport is truly a perfectly designed car, if such a thing is possible. Rarely has a car so impeccably met its design brief, flawlessly executing its mission. No, this is not a car with which to shop for groceries or pick up the kids from school. In fact, with its minimal front luggage compartment, one probably couldn’t even fit a set of golf clubs for a garish arrival to the country club. But what the Grand Sport does, it accomplishes without peer. Acceleration is astounding, as the car rockets from 0 – 60 mph in a breathtaking 2.5 seconds. The car is also remarkably tractable; very little driver skill is required to man the helm of this $1.9 million machine. Unlike some other supercars, the Grand Sport never veers while launching forward, confidently stable under its alarming acceleration. The Grand Sport actually offers an improved driver experience over the Veyron in that, with its open top, the driver can better hear the prodigious engine and turbo just behind him. Two large intakes dominate the roofs of both cars, and with the Grand Sport’s hardtop removed, the intakes suck in air just over the heads of the driver and passenger. The effect is like hearing a jet turbine willfully whistling with every touch of the accelerator: automotive music to the ears.

The Grand Sport’s cabin is beautifully upholstered in stitched leather and features minimal instrumentation; rather than a cluttered myriad of gauges that one might expect of such a car, the cabin is exquisitely produced with a “less is more” approach. Appropriately, the tachometer stands out while smaller gauges indicate exactly how much horsepower is being expended at any given moment, and a gas gauge that reads in actual units (so one knows precisely when only five gallons remain). Of course, with such a high price tag, few people will ever get to experience the Grand Sport or the Veyron firsthand, but Bugatti’s creation is more than a mere exercise in grandstanding: with its investment in Bugatti, VW has asserted that dreams live on and automotive excellence in luxury and performance should capture the imagination while it inspires. Such is the tribute that VW has paid to the fine tradition started by one man: the most wonderful of eccentric automotive geniuses, Ettore Bugatti.

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