After a rather long European holiday, which has yielded a fair share of CC subject matter, I have come back to Tokyo, ready to dip into my ‘30s and ‘40s files for the month of September. I have a substantial backlog of pre-war Bentleys for some reason, so I hope nobody will mind too much if we start our oldtimer month with one of those.
The 3½ Litre Bentley, also known as the Derby (pronounced “Darby,” because Englanders like to confuse foreigners that way), was a watershed moment in the marque’s history. When Rolls-Royce rescued Bentley in 1931, the firm was making precious few of their massive 8-Litre chassis. Rolls effectively wiped the slate clean, selling off the old Cricklewood works and pensioning off the 8-Litre range, which was a direct competitor to the Phantom II. But the Bentley name was worth saving, what with its many racing victories accrued since the company’s 1919 foundation.
It so happened that Rolls were doing very well thanks to their smaller 20HP and 20/25 models, which they had been selling like the proverbial hotcakes since the early ‘20s. When they acquired Bentley, R-R were pondering on making an even smaller model, largely based on the 20/25. This became the new Bentley, though the projected supercharged 2.7 litre engine was abandoned in favour of a sportier variant of the 20/25’s 3669cc straight-6.
The new Bentley was thus a thinly disguised Rolls, but the twin SU carbs, higher compression and improved camshaft provided something in the region of 110-120hp. This, along with generally lighter coachwork, enabled the “Silent Sports Car” by-line to be used very successfully. After a year without any Bentley chassis produced, the new car was launched in September 1933 and immediately found its market.
Our example, from the first year of production, is a perfect illustration of the type of car that Bentley were going to try to be for the foreseeable future: aristocratic, but clearly oriented towards the owner-driver, with a soupçon of sportiness thanks to a (relatively) lower and shorter chassis than the equivalent Rolls product. And with a body to match, of course, courtesy of the best coachbuilders in England and the world.
In the present case, the body came from Park Ward. This firm was founded after the Great War and soon became the go-to place for folks who wanted to clothe their Bentley and Rolls-Royce – even before the latter took over the former. And it so happened that in 1933, Rolls-Royce took a controlling interest in Park Ward, to secure a source of quality bodies. The coachbuilder became a wholly-owned R-R subsidiary by 1939.
So when in doubt, if you ever encounter a ‘30s Bentley, assume it has a Park Ward body. This one is a standard four-seater tourer, i.e. something relatively off-the-peg, as far as Derby Bentleys go. But these could be (and were) endlessly customizable by the client – this one made do without bumpers and featured body-coloured wire wheels, for instance. Which looks really good, actually.
Park Ward would start to introduce all-steel bodies in 1936, though most specials and one-offs kept the wood frame technique well into the ‘50s. Paired with centuries of experience in fine leatherwork and wool carpeting, that makes for a very presentable interior.
As per Rolls-Royce custom, the gearchange and handbrake are on the right side of the driver, which explains the oddly-shaped seat cushion. I’m sure it all works very well in practice once you get used to it, but from this angle, the accelerator looks like it’d be hard to reach without impaling one’s right calf on the shifter.
The wheelbase is a respectable 126 inches (320 cm), yet the Bentley is more of a 2+2 than a true four-seater. The rest of the chassis is extremely traditional, even for the times: semi-elliptic leaf springs all round, beam axle in the front and live in the back, mechanical brakes – nothing but well-trodden ground. It’s not about the technology so much as the execution.
By the spring of 1936, the so-called 3½ Litre was due for a bit of an upgrade, becoming the 4¼ Litre. Little else changed, and the model carried on until 1939 when the short-lived Mark V took over. Both the 3 ½ Litre and its successor sold in similar numbers, i.e. around 1200 chassis each, or just over 2400 put together between 1933 and 1939. In comparison, Bentley sold about 100 chassis of their gargantuan 8 Litre model in 1930-32.
Rolls would later find themselves unable to keep Bentley from being 100% badge-engineered, but at least in the first couple of decades after the takeover, the two marques were sufficiently different for each to have their own clientele. Home please now, James. Just aim at the setting sun.
Nice find, the styling was cloned for the postwar Jaguars and still worked, tripping over Bentleys? rarely. VW Bentleys are common enough but the real thing, no.Awkward shifter position isnt all that bad, have you seen a K104 RHD cab? no well it makes that layout look lovely.
The car James Bond is putting the top up before he is called to the ‘office’ in From Russia With Love? In my opinion, one of the top five Bond films of all time.
I’ve always wondered if a right side driven car ever offered a shifter on the right. Years ago when bottom feeder rental cars overseas were still manuals, I kept trying to shift the window roller in some Suzuki micro car I rented in Barbados.
Here’s a classic that sometimes doesn’t get enough recognition for it’s “curbside” appeal: –
1964 Alvis TE 21 DHC by Park Ward
This is lovely and indeed it looks sporting against a Rolls .
-Nate
Great find, lovely car.
I’d take one over any 21st century Bentley in a flash.
126 inch wheelbase, yet not a giant of a car. Economical but odd that it seems to require the driver and passenger to wear the one jacket (last pic). Wonder if it’s the same for pants?
Hell of curb casual, I must say, even in this far-western province of Japan.
I read just the other day, btw, that Rolls-We’re-The-Bestest did a disgraceful thing when they took over Bentley: they destroyed all their records.