Many European aircraft-makers ended up dabbling in automobiles. Most started said dabble after the First World War – legendary names such as Armstrong Siddeley, Farman, Maybach, Salmson, Voisin and, most famously of all, BMW. Fewer aircraft manufacturers tried this diversification strategy in 1945. There were Heinkel, Messerschmitt and Saab, but they generally aimed at the lower end of the market. Only one aimed high: Bristol.
1922 advert
It’s fair to say that Bristol did not exactly plan the birth of their luxury car branch, but it’s also fair to say that Bristol’s ground transport are at the company’s actual roots. The Bristol Tramways Co., founded by the original Sir George White in 1875, went from horse-drawn trams to manufacturing their own buses by 1908, which turned out to be excellent. These were only made for Bristol, initially: the first Bristol bus was sold to another operator only in 1914. Bristol buses (and trucks) were powered by Bristol’s own petrol engines – Diesels were usually Gardners – and proved very successful, though they are often overlooked in Bristol’s history due to the firm’s more glamorous aircraft, car and military output.
1917-1918 Bristol F2B Fighter
In 1910, the British and Colonial Aeroplane Co. was created by White and his close associates. It was a sister company to Bristol Tramways, but soon outshone it. The aircraft were widely referred to as “Bristols” during the war so that, by 1920, the firm officially became the Bristol Aeroplane Co.
1930 Bentley Speed Six 6.5 litre Weymann saloon bodied by Bristol Aeroplane Co.
The bus side of the business carried on and Bristol even bodied a few cars (for the company directors, no doubt) while they were at it. But the aircraft branch was the most successful branch. Bristol established their dominance in aero engine production, launching successful radial designs such as the Jupiter, the Perseus and the Hercules, which were widely produced. Bristol continued making their own airframes, with a focus on military designs during the inter-war years, which culminated in the mass production of designs such as the Beaufort and the Blenheim during the Second World War.
Alongside cars, post-war efforts focused on the (over-)ambitious 100-pax Brabazon airliner
By 1944, it was clear that the war was soon going to be over and Bristol’s flourishing works would soon become underutilized. Switching to civilian airliners was a risky venture – launching a car line might prove a wise move. In October 1945, a Bristol executive (serving as an officer in the British forces) somehow managed to get permission from the American and British military authorities to “liberate” some blueprints and a few prototype engines from BMW’s Munich plant and ship them home to Blighty. This was done with BMW’s full knowledge and they were compensated in some small way, but it wasn’t exactly your standard licensing deal.
One of the first adverts for Bristol cars, September 1946
The Bristol Aeroplane Co. now had detailed plans to build the car they now owned. Initially, they teamed up with Frazer-Nash, who had long-standing links to BMW. Bristol’s Filton works were to manufacture the engines, a 2-litre 6-cyl. so Bavarian it only lacked a white and blue roundel. Said sixes would then be used by both Bristol and Frazer-Nash. All that was needed was to convert everything into Imperial measures.
In early 1946, the first prototype Bristol 400 was tested on the hills of Somerset. Mechanically, it was like a pre-war BMW 328 (6-cyl., 1971cc, 85hp) on a 326 chassis with a revised 327 body. Hence the double kidney grille: it was part of the design, and BMW were not in a position to resume production then anyway. From the outset, Bristol cars were frighteningly expensive machines, but were also built to last. Each unit was hand-made, so special requests were numerous and no two cars could really be alike. Improvements on many small details could be retrofitted to most of the fleet – and very often were – by Bristol themselves. This set the template for all future Bristol cars.
In a very logical way, the next Bristol model, launched in 1948, was named the 401, soon joined by the ephemeral 402 convertible. The 401 was much bigger than its predecessor, as Bristol’s clientele demanded, and more modern-looking. Production began to reach fairly significant numbers and Bristol Cars’ reputation in Europe was starting to become established. They were rare, but they were there – even across the English Channel.
The proof is in the specials. While most people were quite content with Bristol’s in-house design, a few early Bristols got custom-bodied by some of the best Continental houses in the biz. Clockwise from top left: 400 cabriolet bodied by PininFarina in 1948; 1949 401 coupé by Touring; Beutler’s 1951 cabriolet; 403 coupé made by Ghia-Aigle in 1953.
403s for the top brass and a prototype of the Britannia airliner, circa 1953
The 403, made from 1953 to 1955, was a modest technical update of the 401. The engine was upped to 100 hp, the gearbox was improved and the brakes were better, but the body did not change. The 401 / 402 / 403 generation of Bristols was the marque’s most successful, in terms of absolute sales, totaling 893 of the 401 / 403 coupés and 23 402 convertibles.
With the 404 coupé arriving in late 1953, Bristol changed their strategy – as well as their styling. Now that BMW were fully resurrected, Bristol cars gave up the double kidney grille for good. The 404’s chassis was shortened from 114 to 96 inches, the body was made of aluminium (though still wood-framed) and the engine could be boosted to 125 hp, making the two-seater 404 the fastest 2-litre car in the world. The 404 also ushered a new Bristol attribute: the spare wheel and the battery were now to be located in a special compartment behind the front wheels. This helped with weight distribution, but it also guaranteed that Bristols were going to keep their long schnozzes for the rest of time.
Peak Bristol: the 1955 range had five cars, including the marque’s only 4-door saloon
To accompany the sporty 404, Bristol launched the 405 in 1954. Based on the 114-inch chassis and fitted with the 105 hp engine, it was to be the only four-door Bristol ever made. The reason why Bristol chose to forego any variants and focus almost exclusively on coupés after these could well be related to the criticism levelled at the 405’s cramped cabin.
Above: Family photo in 1955; below: 1957 French advert
Only 50 Bristol 404s were sold; the 405 saloon, along with its cabriolet version made by Abbott of Farnham, managed just under 300 units. After the 404 / 405 era, Bristol reverted to a single-model policy and kept to it until the mid-‘70s.
Above: 1952 Frazer-Nash (with a Bristol 400 behind it); below: peculiar Bristol 450 Le Mans racer
All Bristols still sported the 2-litre six that had been Bristol’s mainstay since the beginning. It was a popular engine in its time: we know from yesterday’s AC post that the Thames Ditton boys also came a-knockin’ at the Filton works to help give their Ace a bit more grunt. John Cooper also used Bristol power for his sports cars and even his F1 and F2 racers, as did Lister and several others. For their part, Frazer-Nash, who co-owned the blueprints and helped bring Bristol Cars to life, also used the Bristol six extensively and won several races with it throughout the ‘50s, often competing against AC and Cooper – and Bristol themselves, naturally.
1956 advert
Even as AC became an ever more important client, Frazer-Nash and Bristol were drifting apart, with AFN making more business through distributing imported German cars than selling their precious racers. Manufacture of Frazer-Nash branded cars ceased in 1958, but the company survives to this day. Making engines for other manufacturers and exporting a few cars here and there kept Bristol Cars well in the black, but there was always room for improvement.
The 2-litre Arnolt-Bristol coupé and roadster retailed at US$5995 in 1956
Thus came the Arnolt roadster – proof that Bristol could find new markets if they wanted to. Stanley H. “Wacky” Arnolt, a Chicago-based importer, thought of marketing an exotic sports car under his own name. Initially, he used MG TD chassis, which would go to Bertone to get bodied and then shipped across to the States. But MG pulled out of the deal in early 1954, after about 150 cars were made. Arnolt then made a deal with Sir George White (grandson of the founder and Chairman of Bristol Cars) for a supply of the 404 chassis with specially-tuned 130 hp engines. Built until 1959, Arnolt-Bristols were often raced with great success. Being over twice the price of the Arnolt-MGs, however, only 142 were made, of which a dozen perished in a warehouse fire.
Not all Bristols were reserved for the élite…
By the late ‘50s, there were changes afoot within the Bristol conglomerate. It had started in the late ‘40s with the bus / truck branch, which was sold off as Bristol Commercial Vehicles to a State entity (i.e. nationalized), which sold it in turn to Leyland in 1956 and was thus re-nationalized as part of BL in 1975. Bristol-branded buses were built at the Brislington works until 1981, two years before the site’s closure.
The British government started fretting about the state of the nation’s aircraft producers. There were far too many of them, which was deemed as dangerously inefficient. Financial and PR disasters such as the Comet, which almost sank De Havilland, were also urging action. In 1958, Bristol Aero Engines were split off from the company and married to Armstrong Siddeley – eventually becoming part of Rolls-Royce. In late 1959, Bristol Helicopters, based in Bristol’s wartime “shadow factory” in Weston-super-Mare, were merged with Fairey and Sauders-Roe into Westland, which survived until the year 2000. In 1960, the planes took off: the unification of Vickers, Hunter, English Electric and Bristol gave us the BAC. Filton became the British production site for the Anglo-French Concorde, originally a Bristol project. The historic Filton works, by then part of BAe, closed down in the early ‘90s and were turned into a museum.
Above: prototype 406, bodied by Beutler in late 1957. Shame Bristol didn’t go for it.
For their part, Bristol Cars were also at a crossroads. In 1958, the three-model range gave way to the one and only 406 coupé. There were promising signs that Bristols were morphing into something a bit more substantial. Chassis-wise, the front and rear tracks were widened by two inches, the rear suspension was given a new Watt’s linkage and disc brakes were fitted all around. Body-wise, the “gaping maw” grille of the previous generation stayed, but the rest was new – and the frame’s last remnants of wood were finally replaced by steel.
If the standard 406 (above) didn’t appeal, Zagato proposed a lighter and slipperier one – for a price.
Engine-wise, however, there was little that could be done except a modest increase in displacement to 2216cc. Power remained the same as the “base” 2-litre (for which several outputs were available), but the 406 was a heavier car, so it really needed the extra torque. Still, the 406 was clearly becoming an anomaly. Given its price range, the Bristol needed something a little more impressive than a pre-war 2-litre six. This was true on the domestic market, but it was even truer on Continental ones, where Bristol were still present.
* Also available: AC 100hp 2.0L & Bristol 105hp 2.2L ** Prices vary according to coachbuilder & body style
AC and Bristol really stick out of this lot, don’t they? Who in their right mind would pay more than a DB4’s price for a slow weirdo like the Bristol 406 (ditto for the Facel versus the AC Greyhound)? Bristol were well aware of the problem. A completely new 6-cyl. engine was in the works – designed in-house. But the dissolution of the Bristol conglomerate had changed the marque’s prospects: there was no parent company patiently bankrolling its fledgling automobile branch any longer. Sir George White remained as chairman of Bristol Cars, but a new executive director was found in Anthony Crook.
Anthony Crook (1920-2014)
Tony Crook was one of Bristol Cars’ top British concessionaires (though he also sold Abarths, Aston Martins, Fiats and Simcas), having been involved with Filton’s finest since the late ‘40s. An amateur driver himself, Crook was of the “race on Sunday, sell on Monday” school of car dealers, using every local event to promote his marque’s products. Crook’s success in promoting and selling Bristols got him Sir George’s benevolent attention. When Bristol had to continue on after going solo in 1960, Crook became the Managing Director and one of the main shareholders.
Bristol’s party piece wings weren’t bothered by the new V8
An in-house engine was deemed too risky and too costly, so the prototype six got the chop. Perhaps looking at Facel-Vega, Bristol turned to Chrysler. Bristol wanted the famous hemi, but by 1960 these were no longer in production. However, Chrysler posited that their Canadian-built Polysphere 313, mated to a push-button TorqueFlite, would do just fine. And indeed it did, once modified by Bristol’s engineers. In late 1961, the 407 (basically a 406 with a 250 hp V8 and a new coil-sprung double wishbone front suspension) was launched. Now Bristol had a fighting chance.
‘60s stagnation – the 409 (1965-67) above was almost identical to the 408 and to the 410 (1967-69) below
The ‘60s and early ‘70s were the marque’s Indian summer – it wasn’t quite the salad days of the ‘50s, when yearly production could top 100 units (it was more like 50), but still reasonably decent. Models 407, 408, 409, 410 and 411 followed in quick succession, with minor trim and grille changes.
The big Chrysler V8 (a 318 (5.2L) after 1965) allowed for Bristol owners to better enjoy their car’s refined appointments – leather seats were now accompanied by a burr walnut dash, unlike the more sporty ‘50s cars. There was no need to make the cars as light as possible, so the Bristols, already reaching middle age, started gaining weight. ZF power steering became standard on the 409, to help with the added bulk.
The 411’s inexorable uglification – above: Mk I (1969-70), below: Mk II (1971-72) and Mk IV (1973-75)
By the time the 411 came around in late 1969, the Bristol coupé was a well-known quantity. This quantity was high in pounds (both avoirdupois and Sterling), low-key in terms of styling, minuscule in units made and therefore incalculably great in snob appeal. Chrysler now furnished Bristol with the larger 383 (6.3L) V8, which was partially rebuilt at Filton and given a few Bristol parts and tweaks (camshaft, exhaust manifold, compression, etc.), producing 335 hp. However, instead of greeting every grille change with a new numeral, Bristol made the 411 last for five series – and dared to devise a companion model, too.
In 1975, Bristol took the world by surprise and finally announced the 412, which was a very challenging-looking Targa-top coupé designed by Zagato. Tony Crook, alone in the driving seat now that Sir George White had sold him his shares in 1973, really started running Bristol Cars in his own way. He was adamant that Bristol should attempt a return to the American market, which in his view required a convertible, or at least something that might pass for one. This dream of US sales withered very quickly, but alas the car was still launched.
Then, in 1976, the real successor to the 411 arrived as the Bristol 603. The new four-seater coupé used the same chassis (Bristol never went monocoque) as its predecessor and what seems to be identical front wings, doors and windshield, but made one concession to the ‘70s in turning its hitherto upright greenhouse into a semi-fastback. There were two Chrysler V8s available – the 603 E (for, I swear I’m not making this up, “Economy”) made do with the 5.2 litre, while the 603 S got the 5.9 – but power ratings were now deemed unworthy of being communicated. Prices remained as mad as ever, though the Zagato was even more outrageous.
The 412 was renamed Beaufighter in 1981, but was anything but beau
But Bristol, by this point, had changed considerably. The company was pared down to the absolute minimum in many ways. Dealerships disappeared, leaving Bristol with only Tony Crook’s showroom, located on High St. Kensington in London’s West End – pretty much where most of the marque’s clients lived or shopped. Exports, which were flourishing in the ‘50s, were now very rare. Adverts were becoming infrequent and Tony Crook had such a deep distrust of automotive journos that he very rarely allowed any of them to take a car out. In fact, Crook was even like that with clients: if you dared ask for a test drive, odds were he would show you the door. Elusive about their cars’ horsepower since the mid-‘70s, Bristol became cagey about prices as well.
For Bristol were more than just a producer of fine hand-made cars. They also became the number one dealer in second-hand Bristols. They remained rare and valuable cars, so their maker, being in possession of all the blueprints, parts, experience and know-how for fixing older Bristols, bought up as many of the ones being put up for private sale as possible, refurbished and fine-tuned them back to life and sold them on with a warranty (and a juicy premium) to another well-heeled connoisseur. This also ensured that the new owner, if the time came, would consider selling the car back to Bristol. The company could restore any of their own products back to original spec down to the nut and bolt, or add modifications (e.g. adding disc brakes, a newer engine or power steering) specified by the client.
Above: identical Brigand and Britannia (same car?) in 1984 brochure; below: no change in 1986
This ingenious recycling scheme is how Bristol managed to survive against all odds for so long. Instead of having to rely on manufacturing and selling a handful of cars per year, they relied on a fleet of a few hundred cars that could still be squeezed a multiple times for profit. The only real side-effect was that Bristol Cars sort of self-mummified. The 603 was the last big Bristol ever designed, yet it carried on until the early 2010s: if part of your business revolves around dealing in used cars, the incentive to change the design is next to zero.
That’s not to say that Bristol never made any changes, but they were very subtle. They changed the 603’s name (it became the “Britannia,” coupled with the turbocharged “Brigand”), the grille, the wheels, the rear end, the dash, the mirrors, the side trim – but the chassis and the body underneath remained fixed in 1976, itself a mild restyle of the 406 launched in 1958. The Zagato 412 also morphed into the Beaufort, now a fully-fledged convertible, and a vainglorious effort was made to try to export these. But all in all was just another brick in the wall that Bristol were inexorably creeping toward.
The ex-603 / Brigand / Britannia was (badly) facelifted yet again and became the Blenheim in 1994 – another name shamelessly pilfered from Bristol’s aircraft glory days. By this point, Bristols were seen as dinosaurs, albeit rather cool ones. That Oasis guy bought one. Even back then, car nuts and the motoring press were looking at Bristol’s continued existence as something of a weird “only in Britain” miracle, not unlike Morgan or Reliant.
In a belated and long-delayed effort to change their image, Bristol finally launched a completely new high-performance car in 2003, though Blenheim production continued. The gullwing-door Bristol Fighter was powered by the Dodge Viper’s 8-litre V10, with a few modifications from Filton to bring it to a minimum of 525 hp. It’s unclear what the Bristol boys were aiming at here. Bristol didn’t need a halo car – the marque was a halo unto itself. Could they really compete with Koenigsegg, Lamborghini or McLaren in the super-risky supercar field?
The very last Blenheim, made in 2009 – a true handmade, body-on-frame, live axle, V8-powered relic
No, they could not. The £235,000 Fighter didn’t do very well. Production numbers, with later Bristols, are always a matter of faith rather than science, but it seems only a dozen were made. The Blenheim was still around, but a mere handful were being made per year, if that. The Fighter had cost a pretty penny to develop and its failure put the firm into a precarious position. The final straw was the 2008 financial crisis, along with the fact that Tony Crook, who was only semi-retired (meaning he only worked 12 hours a day, no doubt) since he sold his Bristol shares in 2001, was unceremoniously barred from the Kensington showroom by the new owners in 2007.
30 years separate these two cars — tradition or inaction?
The Bristol 603 was a Deadly Sin of the slow-killing kind, one must say. The original car was fine for the ‘70s, but it was allowed to bloat up and wither well past its relevance. It took 35 years, but Bristol finally halted all chassis production in 2011. The facilities are still in use, as the Bristol repair / reconditioning side (and the showroom) are still operating, but no new cars are being made. There was a blip in 2016, when the Bristol Bullet roadster was announced, but it seems only one was ever made so far. Some describe the marque as dormant. Perhaps it is. But the longer it stays motionless and silent, the easier it’s going to be to call it dead.
Tony Crook in front of the one and only Bristol showroom in the world
The curse and the gift that turned Bristol into a caricature of itself was the marque’s self-appointed proprietor, chief salesman and all-round supremo, Mr Anthony Crook. Here was a man who had a vision, and the limited means at his disposal were enough to continue making a few more Bristols every year. Crook knew that scarcity was its own reward, as the only competent Bristol specialists were Bristol themselves. He reportedly barred BBC Top Gear co-presenter James May from penetrating the Kensington showroom due to May’s association with Jeremy Clarkson, who had dared criticize Bristol. Tony Crook was a living legend, but he should perhaps have tried to devise a new Bristol model rather than having the 603 produced ad infinitum and kicking out potential clients.
Finding any curbside Bristol would be marvelous – finding a 505 would be ecstasy
It’s unfair to say that “Bristols had a ‘40s chassis with a ‘70s body.” Though its wheelbase remained identical (114 inches / 289.5 cm) throughout (except for the 404), nearly every chassis component did change: the suspension, the engine, the wheels, the brakes, the steering, the transmission, the track – it was a constant evolution. But that evolution stopped and the firm’s future was, in the long run, compromised by this. The misfire of the Fighter put Bristol on the edge of the precipice and a wisp of economic headwind (and the 2008 crisis was more like a typhoon) was all it took to kill off the marque.
Phew! That was a long one. Hope that didn’t get too boring, towards the end. Or from the very start. Let’s kick things into full Deadly Sins overdrive for Jensen. See you tomorrow!
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: 1972 Bristol 411 (and Bristol History) – The Last Great British Eccentric, by Roger Carr
Curbside Outtake: 1959 Bristol 406 – A Gently Fading Aristocratic Reminder, by Roger Carr
Cohort Outtake: 1952 Bristol 401 – Timeless Elegance Of An English Spa Town, by Roger Carr
Bristol Cars In Bankruptcy: The End Of The Living Dinosaur?, by PN
Bristol Cars Finds A New Owner: Range-Extending Hybrid To Replace Its Chrysler 360 V8?, by PN
Bus Stop Classic: Bristol Lodekka LD6G — Upstairs, Downstairs, by GGH06
Rampside Outtake – Silver City Airways Bristol Type 170 Freighter, by Roger Carr
* * *
European Deadly Sins series
French DS 1 (Hotchkiss, Panhard, Citroën) — French DS 2 (Bugatti, Facel-Vega, Monica)
French DS 3 (Berliet, Salmson, Delahaye) — French DS 4 (Simca, Talbot, Matra)
British DS 1 (Jowett, Armstrong Siddeley, Daimler) — British DS 2 (Alvis, Lagonda, Gordon-Keeble)
British DS 3 (Invicta, Standard, Reliant)
German DS 1 (BMW, Borgward, Glas) — German DS 2 (Neckar, DKW, NSU)
Italian DS 1 (Autobianchi, Iso, Lancia) — Italian DS 2 (Isotta Fraschini, ASA, De Tomaso)
Other DS 1 (Minerva-Impéria, Monteverdi, DAF)
I can never get over how ugly Bristols are. I like that Beutler 406 up there, but all the later ones, man…
Ford Transit taillights on a luxury car that looks like you asked a drunk person to recreate an Opel Ascona B. In what world does this make sense?
For the above reason, I do of course kinda like them. Like that TV clip I saw from the seventies where a girl said the Rolling Stones were so ugly that they were hot.
Not Transit, but Bedford CF2 tail lights.
https://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/NTc2WDEwMjQ=/z/KsEAAOSwmYFceU0d/$_86.JPG
At least the Hillman ones they used in the ’60s had a classic elliptical shape to them.
Love that Christmas Humbug advert.
You’re right. Thanks for the correction. I thought about the facelifted first generation Transit, but that was incorrect.
Photo shows Skoda Fabia lights as well……shakes head……
I hope you mean the Audi A4 Avant tail lights. Then I can correct you and vindicate my taillight spotting ability.
I also see the huge and clumsy Opel/Vauxhall Senator tail lights.
Mads is correct – Audi A4 Avant tailights……
No dullness encountered here at all (your posts are vastly better now I wear my glasses, btw). It’s such a potty English tale that it’s all interesting. Just the starting point of posh Brits motoring about in a nicked version of a car from their just-defeated enemy is hilarious, especially as the brand went on to became such a symbol of crusty, monied English dottiness. Add to the mix that it was later run for years by a chap who was like a caricature of a titled snob and clearly half-barking to boot, and it becomes irresistable. Then add that, after the early models, they really just weren’t terribly great cars (and largely crapulent to behold), and the comedy becomes divine.
I must say, though, that perhaps the latter history of the company was some insider joke for the well-off, as that Christmas ad by Bristol is bloody funny.
As a minor aside, I recall reading years ago that that famed and venerated Bristol engine, as er, borrowed from BMW, wasn’t thought too highly of by its original German designer. It has these oddball cross-pushrod thingys in the head to drive the exhaust valves, which only arose because BM couldn’t afford to develop a proper twin-cam head: it was a compromise, in other words. (It was an article in Classic and Sportscar years ago, I think). I also know from more recent reading that it is phenomenally expensive to rebuild now, as in $30K plus!
One final quirk, the first Bristol 400 ever made is still in existence. Yes, they preserved evidence of the theft from Jerry, what-ho.
“…such a symbol of crusty, monied English dottiness.”
With the engine and transmission from a Duster, no less!
George Martin (the Beatles producer) lived in my village and I vividly remember in the 1980s he had a Bristol. Looking at these photos I think it must have been a 412.
He always had very decent cars (Bentley as his daily driver and a classic Rolls Royce in the garage), but the Bristol was spoken of in hushed tones as being a very special motor. Never got to go in it sadly but it was a sharp looking car.
Hope he called his 412 the “Magical Mystery Tourer” (in hushed tones, obviously).
What kind of classic Rolls was it?
Absolutely fantastic article, thank you!
I am a sucker for mass production cars’ taillights used on low volume (often hand built) luxury sports cars. So far the VW Scirocco lights on the Aston Martin Vantage had been my favourite. But this! Opel Senator B! Audi A4 B6! Taillights from vehicles 15 years apart on the same basic car! The weirdness just never ceases.
And Tatra, since you have been susceptible to posting suggestions from me before (vehicles that were produced in both FWD and RWD verision), I have another one for you: Vehicles produced with both longitudinally and transversally mounted engines!
(The Renault 21 and the Ferrari 308 come to my mind, but I am sure there are so many more hidden and forgotten in the dark alleys of automotive history waiting for y post of yours to shine a light upon them…)
Rover 75?
Well, I’ve got a lot of posts I’d like to write up, so it’s going to have to go in the queue, but…
Renault 5
Excellent and authoritative account from Tatra87 of one of Britain’s last remaining real oddities. You’ve caught Bristol’s seeming lack of commercial ambition and put into a context. Great photo selection too.
Only nit pick I have is that the Bristol Aircraft/BAC Filton site is still very much alive and kicking.
Yes, there is a large Aerospace Museum centre on the site, but as now part of Airbus, there are 3000 people working on Airbus wing design and wing component production, landing gear and fuel systems and various other things. Rolls-Royce Aero Engines also have a large presence at Filton, working on Typhoon and A400M power units.
https://www.airbus.com/careers/our-locations/europe/filton.html
http://aerospacebristol.org/
Duly noted with many thanks, Roger. Hope that all stays after Brexit.
How perfectly English! I love it. I am reminded of a client from a former office who argued with a Mercedes dealer service adviser about the necessity of certain service operations on his wife’s car. He was told “This car is too good for you!” Bristol took that attitude and turned it up to eleven. Like the Seinfeld Soup Nazi – if you didn’t make the cut “no Bristol for you!”
I must say that it was an ingenious business model for a tiny maker of expensive bespoke cars. Without a faster rate of change the thing was doomed to die off at some point, and that 2008 financial disaster got GM too.
Thanks for this deep dive and great education on Bristol.
Thanks for this closer look. I’d say they did well with the resources they had, and although Bristol was not going to fly forever it was a bumpy landing rather than a spectacular crash.
One of my childhood car books had a photo of that Bristol racer and I remember wondering why that race car had dump truck wheels on it???
My American English-UK English dictionary seems to have gone missing, but I believe if spoken in the UK, “Tony Crook” would translate into “Posh Thief”.
Which I somehow find hilarious!
Using Christopher Balfour’s Bristol Cars and Bill Smith’s Armstrong-Siddeley books as a rough guide, Bristol could have potentially become much bigger than it did in the right circumstances as well as also saved Armstrong-Siddeley Motors without becoming a High-Brow hybrid had:
– Bristol Commercial Vehicles was not sold off in 1935 to Thomas Tilling / Tilling Group and would remain part of Bristol Cars up to the present day, similar to Volvo, Mercedes-Benz and Tatra (with the likes of Alfa Romeo and Lancia also notably producing commercial vehicles at one point).
– The board at Bristol accepted H. J. Aldington’s original concept for Bristol as supported by Sir George White’s 1946 report where Bristol would not only produce a 85-130 hp BMW-derived 2.0-2.2-litre 6-cylinder but also a more potent 140-160 hp (?) 3.0-litre 6-cylinder derived from the pre-war 3.5-litre BMW M335 engine.
In addition to seeking to produce roughly 5000 + cars annually as instead of around 500 cars per year.
– The Bristol Britannia turboprop airline appeared in 1950 with no teething problems instead of in 1957 as in real-life (where it was plagued with delays and problems during development, which had the effect of negatively impacting projects the car division was working on during that period).
– As a result of the above, Bristol Cars manages to bring the 3.65-litre (or 3.6-litre) 6-cylinder twin-cam Bristol type 160 engine into production (the Jaguar XK6 being used as the benchmark during development) along with the Bristol type 220/240 and Bristol type 225 (would later appear in modified form as the 2003 Bristol Blenheim Speedster) prototypes in the late-1950s / early-1960s.
– After Bristol was merged with Armstrong Siddeley to become Bristol Siddeley as a result of government pressure (who wanted to nationalize everything) in 1959, the car (and commercial vehicle) division is split off as in real-life together with a surviving Armstrong Siddeley Motors by Sir George White who saved both from closure. Together the two carmakers end up forming Bristol Siddeley Motors with Bristol playing a sporting role similar to Bentley, while Armstrong Siddeley plays a more sedate stately role akin to Rolls Royce.
– Armstrong Siddeley themselves developed a replacement for the mk2 ASM Star Sapphire prototype during the late-1950s / early-1960s intended for launched in 1962, the car featuring styling influences from the Rolls Royce Silver Shadow and Rover P5, while the radiator shell layout and overall treatment reminiscent of Pininfarina’s BMC Farina designs with trace elements of the Lancia Flaminia in the shape of the body.
– Bristol Cars via Bristol Siddeley Motors would also gain the all-alloy 200 hp OHC 4.6-litre V8 project that Armstrong Siddeley was working on, which was derived from two 2290cc ASM Sapphire 234 4-cylinder engines with potential for the V8 to be increased to 5.3-litres (via a bored out 2.7-litre 4-cylinder version of the 2290cc ASM Sapphire 234 unit), effectively butterflying away the Chrysler V8 engines.
In an alternate timeline of a parallel universe somwhere, there is a CC in which Lotus Rebel writes riveting and highly detailed posts about unlikely “what if” combinations of 20th century carmakers producing fantasy machines that would have been sensational.
The Citroën-Porsche rear-engined DS. The International Scout Healey roadster. The rotary-powered Benz-Lancia coupé. Write these up, Lotus. I want to read them!
Haha. Afraid none of the what-if combos are plausible enough, unlike a potential expanded Bristol or Bristol Siddeley Motors that still has a commercial vehicles division.
Am I the only one who thinks the Fighter looks like a cross between a Viper and a C2 Corvette?
I, for some reason, keep getting Peugeot 504 Coupe vibes from the Bristol 603. I don’t know why.
Also, the use of, erm… licensed German tech keeps reminding me of other Deadly Sins-worthy companies – EMW (or IFA) and Moskvitch.
That makes me wonder why Peugeot didn’t object to their use of three-digit monikers with a zero in the middle, as they had with Porsche’s 901-turned-911. The only other exceptions I can think of are either from the Eastern Bloc (Tatra 603, Trabant 601) or Detroit engine designations that directly reference engine size in cubic inches and are not model names.
Peugeot probably figured they were too small to bother about.
Oh dear… The styling was holding its own until the 603 arrived, at that point eccentricity took over completely in my view. The early cars have enormous charm.
I’d place the cursor at the 411 Mk1, personally. Quad headlamps were a mistake. And that 412 is just like a brick with wheels. Ugh.
Not sure I like the front end of the 401/403, either, but most 50s/60s Bristols looked great.
On BBC television, “Inspector Lynley,” actor Nathaniel Parker plays a police detective of distinguished stock…he is the Eighth Earl of Asherton and as such, drives distinguished cars. Early in the series he drove a Jensen Interceptor but later, switched to something more exclusive: A Bristol 410. Both had in common a Chrysler powertrain, with a B-block 440 in the Jensen, and an LA-block 318 in the Bristol.
BBC photo.
TENTH attempt at posting this comment. The prior nine failed with nothing appearing. Something is broken. Maybe it is time to update or ditch Akismet??
Test 1st attempt: On BBC television, “Inspector Lynley,” actor Nathaniel Parker plays a police detective of distinguished stock…he is the Eighth Earl of Asherton and as such, drives distinguished cars. Early in the series he drove a Jensen Interceptor but later, switched to something more exclusive: A Bristol 410. Both had in common a Chrysler powertrain, with a B-block 440 in the Jensen, and an LA-block 318 in the Bristol.
I have always been fascinated by the Bristol. If you think about it, buying a Bristol meant buying a car “for life”, since the factory (if you could call it that) made a living more than anything by continuously upgrading the existing stock of Bristols “in the wild”. In its own way, Bristols were “green” before the term existed, since you need only buy one that was continuously re-cycled.
The Bristol had a close cousin (I wonder if this was ever acknowledged by the two factories) in the Avanti II, also a 4-seat grand tourer using bought-in American V8 engines, built using an ancient chassis (in Avanti’s case actually left-over from the early 1960’s but based upon early 1950’s Studebaker practice), continuously upgraded, sold and serviced at only one location, in Avanti’s case co-located with the factory, and available in whatever combination of colors and trim the customer desired within reason. Avanti had an advantage compared with Bristol in that Nathan Altman was by all accounts a perfectly reasonable human being – Avanti only died because after Mr. Altman’s death it progressively came under the control of folks who were perhaps even more crazy than Tony Crook.
Part of the Bristol’s appeal, it seems to me, was that it hardly ever changed. The fact that it was a bit heavy and a bit thirsty was beside the point, and the fact that it was borderline ugly was part of the appeal, it was a “sleeper” but instead of having hidden performance it had hidden snob appeal! Harley-Davidson is now facing the same problem that killed Bristol – how does one change when part of the appeal of the brand is that it never changes?
Anyhow I want one. A Beaufighter of course.
That’s really well put, on all counts.
And, just sneakily, in dark glasses, I want one too (though on no account a Beaufighter, I mean, really?!) If not the original 400’s, which are by all accounts properly decent cars, then somewhere about the 409, chromey, almost good looking, certainly fast, and definitely indefinably wantably odd. (Alright, so that description MUST also cover a Beaufighter, I get it. Sort-of….)
I did actually manage to stumble upon one (almost) kerb-side, in the industrial part of my inner Melbourne suburb. This was on new year’s eve, 2017. There was a bloke glaring at me as I walked past, so I only managed to grab a couple of photos. Seems to be a fan of British cars; including a Bentley with a good number plate.
Close-up.
Bentley.
Rear.
Oh, bollocks to glaring WO (the owner here, not the engineer). Why is it that the owners of interesting stuff are so often such tetchy turds?
Anyway, well done, and I’ll look out for that sweet 400.
I’ve some vague recollection that a disproportionate amount of the Bristol output was and is in Oz, possibly mostly owned by those whose disdainful attitude to others is reflected in the belief displayed here that their superior bit of crummy/wondrous Germo-BritPosh logically used a bit of wood for handbrake purposes. And don’t photograph it, old (worker) chap.
thanks tatra for another great piece. i was captivated by the bristol after first seeing it upstage the actors in a very good and subtle english coming of age movie called an education. i didn’t know until now that it was the unique four door bristol 405.
Thanks for the history and context on a marque I’ve only encountered once here in the States. A group of Bristols and owners were touring American, attended the AACA Fall Meet. I wondered how they managed to continue building tiny numbers of exclusive cars, now I know they had far more facets to their business that supported the work.
Excellent summary of the marque, Tatra87. Last August I finally caught sight of a Bristol “in the wild” for the first time in my five decades. Impressive looking machine (411 Mk 4 LHD), but clearly with nonexistent/malfunctioning A/C:
Those later 80s and 90s ones look startlingly similar to a Mark III Capri, but much less attractive.
They drive very well. They ride well. They are quite narrow which allows them to work well on back roads. Try one and see (it’s worth the experience- they are different to what you’d expect).
Nobody else knows what they are (not ostentatious, not shouty).
They are well built and very well developed.
Not using the latest (or even not so latest) flash or trendy technology means they were carefully and thoroughly developed over years. What seems to be a modest specification ends up being an excellent set-up. For example, a live rear axle in a contemporary luxury car would appear to be a poor choice. It isn’t. It works better than it ought.
The idea of recycling the cars back through the factory is a good one. Why do people accept that the second most expensive item they own is not going to be able to last very long and so is expected to be needing, demanding even, replacement (with attendant financing issues) after less than a half decade or so? Most modern cars are dead in a decade. Few reach a double decade. Then, apart from the few which get into the hands of enthusiasts, they are all crushed. Consider, does anyone treat houses and buildings like this? Such wastage people embrace…
—
A point of history. When Bristol were looking to develop their own new engine to replace the venerable 2-litre and 2.2-litre six, they looked at a V-12. It was exactly as one would expect, a doubling up of the six cylinder engine they already had. It was a good engine and entirely what they required. Trouble was, they were not allowed to develop it to production. Government regulation and interferences imposed throughout the aviation industry in the ’50s and ’60s ended the project (don’t forget that the Bristol car division was part of an aviation conglomerate so government diktats to halt development projects to force mergers did not differentiate between car manufacture and aircraft manufacture).
What an excellent historian and presenter this writer is!
As a columnist myself (www.velocetoday.com) I have an appreciation of how much research and thought must go into a series like this, and it is so comprehensive, by country, by marque, (and level of obscurity). Putting all of these together would make for a compelling book, which would undoubtedly be successful in Europe (although most Americans would not have a clue about most of the subject marques). I noticed that the booksellers at Retromobile this past February had an explosion of titles, so there is definitely a market for this book. He should go for it!
Whoever Tatra87 is, they are one of the best auto journalists today, without a doubt, and frankly I don’t know of any print publication that would attempt anything like this ongoing series, now that AQ is no longer. Congrats for having him as a contributor.
i visited the Bristol showroom on several occasions from the mid 1980s onwards. On the first occasion, I was enquiring about a used Bristol V8 and was told they had one for £800 in a lockup a few streets away, and was being accompanied to the site by the proprietor when he mentioned in conversation that the engine in said car had been replaced by a Dodge V8 of the same capacity. I said, thats OK, its the same engine but with hydraulic lifters, whereupon he turned on his heal and walked away. My last visit was to see the Fighter, and the South African new proprietor was miffed about the questions that I was asking about engine power curve, the cd figure, braking distances etc as if I was doubting, as I was but not out loud, the veracity of the never publicly tested figures.