At the 1955 Mille Miglia, Stirling Moss was supposed to set a fast pace, simply to goad the competition into making errors. But he kept going. Sir Stirling Moss, one of the all-time greatest racing drivers, died yesterday at 90. There were a lot of memorable moments in his career, but perhaps none as memorable as his stunning drive at the 1955 Mille Miglia. On the near-1000-mile road course, Moss and co-driver Denis Jenkinson averaged 97.3 mph in their Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR. It was a record never to be broken. In tribute to Moss, we're republishing Bernhard Cahier's recap of the 1955 Mille, which originally appeared in the August, 1955 issue of Road & Track. We also dug some of Kurt Wörner's photographs from the event. -Ed. Whether or not the ancient gods of Rome looked with special favor on the pair that bore the initials of the race is doubtful, but it is very certain that the accomplishment of Stirling Moss with the new Mercedes 300 SLR sports car in the 22nd Mille Miglia will stand as one of the finest of this or any racing season. Not only did the young Englishman increase the record average speed by almost 10 mph, but he became the second non-Italian and first British driver to win, placed a non-Italian car 1st for only the second time in the race’s history (Caracciola with a Mer­cedes won in 1931), and managed to make a myth of the “who-leads-at-Rome-loses-at-Brescia” jinx. His achievement was all the more remarkable because, according to the Mercedes team strategy as conceived by Manager Alfred Neubauer, Moss was not really supposed to win; his task was to set a blistering opening pace to draw out and burn up the Ferraris at the possible sacrifice of his own car, so that teammates Fangio, Kling and Herrmann would have a clear field. Moss set the pace well enough, but car and driver held up all the way, and, except for a few dents from a straw-bale encounter, reached the finish in fine condition. At Brescia before the race, all the elements in­dicated a great event. Instead of the usual spring rains the weather was hot and clear. With the notable exception of Farina, Ascari, Villoresi, and Behra, most of Europe’s top drivers were on hand, and the turn-out of cars—some of them making their racing debut—was the most impressive ever. Out of 648 entries, 533 appeared at the starting line, running in 13 classes ranging from the new category for Diesel cars to the Unlimited Sports class. In the latter, the biggest battle was obvious­ly to be between Mercedes-Benz and Ferrari. The German team was opposed by Ferrari drivers Taruffi, Maglioli, Marzotto, and Siginolfi in the 3.75-litre, 6-cylinder cars, and Castellotti in the new unraced 4.4-litre 6. No works Lancias appeared, but a 3-litre, 6-cyl Maserati was on hand driven by Perdisa and also a 3-litre Gordini. The strong­est British entry was Collins’ Aston-Martin DB3S, but also running in the big-car class were four Austin-Healey 100S models piloted by Donald Healey, Macklin, Abecassis and Flockhart. Gran Turismo competition was provided by threeMercedes 300 SL’s (one of them driven by John Fitch), Aston-Martin DB2-4’s, Jaguars and a host of smaller cars. Around the starting ramp Saturday eve­ning, excitement was at a fever pitch. At 9:00 pm the first car, a Diesel-engined Fiat, made its start, to be followed off the mark at one-minute intervals for over ten hours by a steady procession of cars with ever-increasing engine displacement. Not until 7 :28AM Sunday did the last of the big cars rumble off and by then some of the small ones were already past Rome, nearly 600miles away. The 992-mile circuit of the Mille Miglia is shaped like a fat bunny with a prominent Adam’s apple (at Ravenna), and encounters in its course just about every kind of driv­ing condition. Leaving Brescia, the road leads eastward across the Lombardy plain to Verona and Padua, then turns south across the Po River Valley to Ferrara and Ravena. Along the Adriatic coast are long open straights leading to Ancona and, far to the south, Pescara; swinging west from the sea, the course winds through the Abruzzi mountains to Rome, then starts the long return northward over the plains to Sienna, up through the tortuous hairpins of the Apennines and the Futa Pass, down through Piacenza and Cremona, crossing the Po again to pass through Mantua (Nuvolari’s home), and so over the flatlands to Brescia once more. Unlike the PanAmerican race, which, though twice as long, is made up of relatively short hops, the Mille Miglia is continuous driving, with stops only for gas and rally-like “book-stampings” at con­trol points. The road is closed until the last of the big cars are past, but the way is dotted with towns and villages and virtually impossible to police effectively, so the Ital­ian fauna, animal and human, is an ever­-present danger.