Few marques have the mystique of Bristol. The uniqueness of their hand-crafted two-door cars (they only ever made one four-door model) produced in infinitesimal quantities for eons, initially using prewar BMW technology and later moving on to big Mopar V8s, makes for a unique trajectory in the automotive firmament. Add the aircraft connection and the dogged, against-all-odds independence of the firm, and only Morgan can rival them. Let’s examine their early work by way of their best-seller, the 401.
There aren’t too many Bristols about, as a general rule. Production numbers are hard to come by for the later V8 models, but they’re likelier in the dozens than the hundreds. As for the 6-cyl. cars, it seems that the 401, made between 1948 and 1953, was the most popular. It’s all quite relative, of course: 611 units (or 618, depending on the source) of the 401 left the Filton factory, including a couple of handfuls of rolling chassis.
One could add the 402 (above), a drop-top version of the 401 subcontracted to Abbott and only made in 23 units in 1949-50, to that impressive tally. And then there was the 403, essentially a slightly improved 401 made between 1953 and 1955 (281 built). All totted up, we’re almost reaching the thousand unit mark – almost common, in Bristol terms.
If this was Bristol’s best-seller in their early years, one might wonder how this business model was ever supposed to work. Yet it worked well, and for a very long time. Bristols were very expensive, very well engineered and very well-built, but these early ones, with their BMW-derived 2-litre engines, were not exactly rocket ships.
We’re talking about 90hp to haul a four-seater; the 401 couldn’t really reach 100mph and would take 15 seconds to go from 0 to 60mph. I realize that standards were different in the early ‘50s and 2 litres isn’t all that much to work with, but still. An Aston Martin, a Cisitalia, a Delahaye or a mere Jaguar XK120 were far more capable than the 401, and not as expensive – some by a long shot. But the snob appeal of the Bristol was without parallel, and amazingly remained so for over six decades.
But there was the aircraft-grade bodywork to take into consideration. What the 401 lacked in engine oomph, it tried to make up for in slipperiness and lightness. Bristol had asked Italian coachbuilder Touring for a prototype on their new chassis, with a view to get a licensing deal for the carrozzeria’s famous Superleggera (“super-light”) all-metal body-making technique.
Touring did provide the goods, but Bristol allegedly stiffed the coachbuilder and went with their in-house design, coupled with a reverse-engineered Superleggera tubular steel frame (though some of the structure kept on using wood, notably the roof) and aluminium body panels. After all, Bristol’s decades-long experience in aircraft and car bodies meant they had plenty of qualified craftsmen to manufacture their cars.
The 401/403 was the last Bristol to have had one-off bodies fitted from a wide variety of coachbuilders. The above examples, made between 1948 and 1954, do not constitute an exhaustive list. Clockwise from top left, these Bristol specials were made by PininFarina, Touring, Beutler and Ghia-Aigle — two Italian and two Swiss houses. This goes to show that, back in the ‘50s, a few Bristols were sold (and even bodied) in Continental Europe. Twenty years later, hardly any foreign sales were happening.
Of course, this was also a time when one-off bodies were still a thing. But the other motivating factor for some clients might have been the factory body’s appearance. Yes it was light and exceptionally well-made, but that front end takes a bit of getting used to. The words “graceful” or “beautiful” hardly apply, though “impressive” and “unique” certainly do. The BMW lineage is quite literally a bit on the nose, which must have caused some confusion, though the one-offs all respected the double-kidney theme. On the other hand, the rubber-mounted body-coloured bumpers, with a grille insert on the front ones, look like they came off a car two decades younger.
I must apologize for the Impressionistic quality of this photograph (also known as a bad blurry pic), but at least you’ll get some sense of the beauty of that cockpit. The aircraft vibe is still present, tempered by lush carpets, burr walnut veneer and Connolly leather of course. The car has to be light, but it does have to have some luxury to it as well. None of those vulgar painted dashes here – what do you think this is, an Alfa Romeo?
It looks a bit tight back there, but for a ‘50s two-door, this is pretty spacious. The headroom looks acceptable, too – not a given on fastback sports cars. All in all, the loveliest and most truly special cabin I’ve had the pleasure of seeing this year.
Eagle-eyed CC readers might have recognized the backdrop in these photos, as this 401 is kept by the British car collector in my general area, whose cars are scattered about a couple of blocks. Although most of his energies seem to be directed towards Rolls-Royces and Bentleys, he usually keeps his 406 (which I wrote up not too long ago) next to the 401 in his personal garage these days. Two 6-cyl. Bristols – now that’s a fantasy garage if I’ve ever seen one!
I have some misgivings about the Bristol’s front end. It’s a mite too long, bulbous and BMW-flavoured for my taste. But the interior is perfect and this tail end is just gorgeous, so it’ll be a fine photo to end this post with. I could watch this 401 drive away all day.
Related posts:
Cohort Outtake: 1952 Bristol 401 – Timeless Elegance Of An English Spa Town, by Roger Carr
Thank you, nice take on a lovely car.
Never understood why Bristol fitted that grille with the BMW connection in 1950s Britain. Although BMW couldn’t come after them for trade mark infringement, unlike the their pursuit of the Eisenacher Motoren Werke who were making the real thing.
The front bumper looks like the 1948 Morris Minor and Oxford to me.
For that matter the Ford Anglia and later Popular used a double-kidney grille in the ’50s. So not only was Bristol associating their British car with a German one right after WW2 but also associating their very expensive, highly exclusive, aircraft-constructed car with the thoroughly outdated cheapest real car on the market.
Oh, this is lovely! I hear that these drive just as well as they look, too!
What a surprising find, and clearly in very good hands.
Greats hots too – thanks Professor.
Yes, there was a bit of snobbery with Bristol, as well as factors such as some alternatives using mass produced Triumph or Ford engines, and reading a bit too much in to the aircraft link.
Just being different was probably enough though, sufficient to reach the sales volumes Bristol did with “mostly old money, good taste, not brash” types
That must be among the most beautiful rear quarter designs of any car – and just judging by your two write-ups, I greatly prefer this design to the 406 (not that I’d turn down a ride in either).
And it’s simply unfathomable to think that this was parked on a street!
I had never really thought about those wrap-around bumpers, front and rear. They certainly offer an exceptional degree of protection, and are rather unusual for the times.
I could never understand why Bristol came out with the Fighter. Why not come out with an updated exclusive executive 4-seater, 2-doors or 4? This was a niche that Bristol could have had to itself, with just a tiny bit more work. A Bristol 2-door saloon was a different thing than a Rolls or an Aston or a 500SEL, exclusive but not outwardly flashy. Or maybe it’s a sign that nothing since has showed up to fill that niche.
The BMW grille was no problem, because brits back then were used to this as a Frazer-Nash sports car design item. And Bristol took over from Frazer-Nash. I think the biggest setback was the split front window, this was the very first item to disappear in those days. No one would buy a split window car, as this was considered to be senile.
Any of the write-ups I’ve read of these describe a delightful device, everything just so and in balance. Not flat-fast, but that becomes unimportant when the rest works so well.
I like the cross-eyed face, which I guess aligns with the Prof’s non-beautiful “unique”, even if he left off “unexpectedly charming”, which it kinda is.
Snobbery aside, it’s a most covetable device for its engineering totality in aero and general finesse.
As an aside, that lovely engine was a ’30’s Depression compromise from BMW, avoiding the expense of proper DOHC. Highly effective on road and in racing, of course, but not what engineers would’ve built if they could. Apparently horribly expensive to rebuild today.
Nice pics, Prof T. And as for the interior, well, all the high Impressionists were French too, surely?