When Rolls-Royce took over Bentley in the mid-‘30s, each of the two marques had a clear role and segment. Rolls were very large and opulent, suitable for chauffeur-driven limos. Bentleys had smaller engines and a sporting heritage. After 1945, the two marques became clones technically, but Bentley kept a sporty model in the Continental and LWB models were still the purview of Rolls-Royce. By the time the brand new V8 came to be in 1959, though, the Bentley marque started to lose what remained of its character. But at least the grille stayed.
Still, the S3 is an important car in Bentley’s history for at least a couple of reasons. In 1962, the Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III and the Bentley S3 were launched at the Paris Motor Show. Compared to the previous models, the new Rolls-Bentley offered a number of minor improvements, such as a slightly lowered grille, new seats, a tad more (undisclosed) power from the 6.2 litre alloy V8 and, most noticeably of all, quad headlamps.
The quads, which were included in all S3 variants, were a first that ended up lasting quite a while. Rolls finally ditched them completely when they went all square in the early naughties, but Bentley kept them for a while longer. Indeed, there are still remnants of them in present-day Bentleys.
Unlike Rolls-Royce, which had the old-fashioned Phantom limos at the apex of the range, Bentley only had the one model. So when the Silver Shadow clone T1 took over for MY 1966, Bentley waved goodbye forever to a number of older technical features, such as body-on-frame construction, drum brakes and the live rear axle that were used on the S3.
The S3 is also important because that was when the last vestiges of Bentley’s individuality were shed away. Initially, Bentley still had the Continental, which still were strictly coachbuilt cars, unlike the standard steel saloon we have here. The Continental chassis was technically identical to the standard S3, except for the lower scuttle and the steering column having a steeper rake to accommodate the lower beltline and roofline of the Continental designs.
For a while, this remained a Bentley exclusive, but in 1964 the Continental chassis, along with the body designs that were either executed by Mulliner-Park Ward – i.e. Rolls-Royce’s in-house coachbuilder – or James Young, became available with an R-R badge. The grille-engineering of Bentley was now complete.
By 1964 then, Bentley had come full circle to being an exact clone of Rolls-Royce. The writing (or rather the badging) had been on the wall for a while, but it took a surprisingly long time for every single model to be available with either grille. Except for the Phantoms, which remained a Rolls-only affair.
Bentley survived and initiated an unlikely re-birth in the ‘90s, only to be de-coupled from Rolls-Royce and inheriting the bulk of the family fortune in the process, albeit under German ownership. Nobody could have ever predicted that in 1965. Or even in 1985.
But no matter what grille is in the front, these are incredible cars. And not just in terms of comfort or snob-appeal: they performed well, too. Despite the Silver Cloud III / S3’s bulk and almost complete disregard for anything approaching aerodynamics, contemporary testers could get them to go from 0 to 60mph in under 11 seconds.
Naturally, that was not the point of the S3. Dignified, if rapid, progress in near silence was what the car promised its well-heeled owner. Let’s step inside.
Nobody does traditional English boudoirs like the folks at Crewe. It’s a little odd how huge and ancient-looking that truck-like black bakelite steering wheel is for a ‘60s luxury car. Yes, the car was made to look traditional and all, but surely, they could have made the wheel a bit more attractive – or at least smaller. Power steering was a thing by this point.
The rear seat was set back compared to the S2, adding a couple of inches of legroom to the rear passengers. After all, they were often the ones who paid for the car, so they could use a gesture beyond vanity mirrors and picnic tables.
It strikes me that, with its solid engine, bullet-proof Hydramatic 4-speed and relatively uncomplicated chassis, this might be the best generation of Bentley from an owner’s point of view. Subsequent models have earned a reputation for being extremely expensive and complex to repair and maintain. The V8-powered S-Types aren’t exactly cheap either, but far more straightforward.
The issue might be finding one: only 1285 Bentley S3 standard steel saloons were made between late 1962 and September 1965. An additional 25 long-wheelbase cars, with a 10cm longer rear door but otherwise identical to our CC, were also built. About twice as many Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud IIIs were made, reflecting the Spirit of Ecstasy’s greater popularity, especially in the all-important US market.
And that’s the limit of grille-engineering: if one of the twin marques is much more popular than the other, what is the point in having two marques? Bentley had a measure of fame in Western Europe, but globally, the Rolls-Royce name enjoyed much greater renown. In the ‘70s, Bentley hung on by a thread, with their output going down to about 10% of R-R’s. Kudos to Rolls for not having done away with the winged B mascot circa 1980 – or even much earlier.
All things being equal – which, when discussing Rolls and Bentley standard steel saloons of the ‘60s, they certainly were, the S3 does have the edge over the Silver Cloud III. The Rolls grille’s uncompromising rectilinearity doesn’t really mesh well with John Blatchley’s swoopy lines. Because it’s just a matter of grilles and badges, the Bentley wins. Hands down and wings up.
What was the point of the Bentley S3? To prove that Rolls-Royce designs looked better with a smoother nose. It took a very long time (and the addition of a turbocharger) for the buyers to tend to agree, eventually bringing the zombified Bentley marque back to life. The darkest hour was just after the Silver Dawn.
A superlative shape, with the last extravagances of 1930’s swoops smoothed seamlessly by Blatchely onto a 1950’s design language. It’s surely only their relative ubiquity that might make them, just on occasion, seem a bit plain. They are not.
I learnt only recently that there was a bit of extra business for Crewe back in the day with owners who would discreetly return their S1’s and S2’s, through the tradesman’s entrance at night time, for a quiet nosejob, wherein the headlights became expanded from two, to four. Thus it might be that what seems to be apparent on what one sees on the road today may not be all it purports.
But had I had the money, whilst I would have happily allowed the necessary amount of the same for re-adjustment of the spousal nose if the person behind it thought it had become necessary, I’d have resolutely withheld it from Rolls for the same purpose upon my S1 or S2, because rather than improving the breed, it diminishes it, and somewhat, at that. Two into four doesn’t always go, and I say that as one whose maths skills were, at their highest point, once good enough to be marked “Yet to fully flower”.
Indeed it’s reminiscent of what happened to early examples of that other instantly-recognizable European sedan of the 1950s, one that also bragged of its’ unchanging style but at the other end of the market, whose owners were known to have their back windows enlarged to match the latest models (strictly through third-party channels in that case).
For the VW, split to oval can be done seamlessly and unrecognizably without deep knowledge of build dates if the car was a late enough split, but oval to rectangle always looks “off” in a way that can’t quite be placed without direct comparison because the factory enlarged the windshield too if in a more subtle way, shelling out for a brand-new roof stamping for a car they were making by the million.
Per Tom McCahilĺ in circa 1953 a Bentley fastback was the LeMans course car.
Thanks for another great piece T87. To some, these are the last real Rolls-Royces and Bentleys, as later cars did away with a chassis and the opportunities for individual coachbuilding. That, along with the graceful, pretty timeless (and not aging any more) standard styling, materials and craftsmanship marks them out as an all time classic.
Unlikely to be seen in a British multi storey car park.
Out of interest, how do Japanese number plates work? Many of the cars you show us have the year in the plate, but there must be something else as a unique element?
I’m not entirely sure about the whole license plate situation. Here’s what I know. There are two sets of numbers: the small ones at the top are (I think) issued according to the registring authority’s database, meaning you cannot pick the ones you want. The first number designates the tax bracket — in the case of the Bentley here, it’s a 3, which means it’s over 2 litres and/or over 170cm wide and 460cm long. If it’s a 5 or a 7, it’s below that threshold. Trucks have their own numbers (1 and 4, not sure what the difference is).
The larger numbers are another matter altogether, and it’s true that they often will have a date there — for classic cars, anyway. But not always: there are plenty of “77 77” or “88 88″ (lucky numbers), and some with just one or two numbers ” . . . 1″ — I have no idea how folks manage to get those, but they do. I don’t know that you can pay to get a specific number, but maybe it’s like France back in the day and all you need to do is know someone in the registrsing authority who can pick out the number you want.
There are also two sets of non-letter characters: at the top, you have the equivalent of a geographical location (in Chinese characters); in the middle, to the left of the big four numbers, you have a hiragana (Japanese alphabet) character. Not sure if that one means anything except to help differentiate one plate with identical numbers from another.
I love your posts, T87. The sheer variety of cars and the knowledge about the is astounding. Now…what’ does that 99 99 license plate mean? Is it a vanity?
See my response to Roger above.
I’m not sure if “99 99” means anything aside from being someone’s “lucky number”, though 8 is the usual lucky one in Asian culture. By contrast, 4 is deemed very bad (it’s pronounced “Shi”, which is a homonym of “death”).
Paradoxically, given that RR’s limousine body was never offered as a Bentley, the late Queen moved from Rolls-Royce to Bentley for her State Limousine when she was presented with two identical vehicles as a Golden Jubilee gift from the UK motor trade in 2002.
They continue to offer sterling service today, though their styling is as awkward as most modern VW Bentleys, with a bit of a Mitsuoka vibe. The two models run by the royal household were the only ones made, so not as common (in every sense) as the RR Phantom VI, of which there are at least eighteen.