I’ve been hinting at this one for a while in my regular Singles Outtakes posts and its day (or rather its week) has finally come. As you may or may not know, in my general area of north Tokyo lives one a rather famous classic Bentley / R-R specialist. The Bentley S3 we saw yesterday was from his stable. But this man’s guilty pleasure is Bristols. Because Bentleys can feel too common?
We’ve seen a couple of Bristols from his collection – namely a 401 and a 406. Those are considered part of Bristol’s first era, when the marque was still a branch of its aircraft maker namesake and its engine technology was directly derived from pre-war BMWs. The 410 we have here represents the second era of Bristol Cars, where the automobile business became truly independent and the valiant but ageing 6-cyl. was traded for a Mopar V8.
With hindsight, the switch to a big American V8 was the only thing that made sense. Bristol, as a carmaker, were able to do the whole car – engine, chassis and body – with great care and at great cost, but they simply did not have the means to develop a completely new home-grown engine.
And by the late ‘50s, it was clear that a 2-litre 6-cyl. was just not going to cut it for the decade ahead. Nor would any British engine, with the possible exception of the Aston Martin straight-6, the Daimler 4.5 litre V8 or the R-R/Bentley V8. But those were not available for Bristol to use, so a foreign supplier was the only way to go. Jensen came to the same conclusion around this time as well.
The 410 was the last model of the 5-litre era, i.e. the first run of V8-powered Bristols. Unlike the contemporary Facel-Végas and Jensens, which packed big-blocks under their long hoods, Bristol opted for the understated Plymouth 318ci (5211cc) “Poly” V8 to motivate their 407 coupé in 1961.
Said 5.2 litre V8 was going out of production by the time Bristol were launching the 410 in the summer of 1967, but I guess Chrysler had a few in stock to ship over to Filton. As fitted to the Bristol, the Plymouth small-block provided 250hp to the torsion bar-suspended live axle – via Chrysler’s excellent 3-speed Torqueflite, naturally.
Up to that point, said Torqueflite had been operated by push-buttons. For the 410, Bristol resorted to fashioning a floor shifter, marking the push-button era’s official end (with Chrysler transmissions, that is). The 410 was the last Bristol to feature the classic two-spoke Bluemel steering wheel that had been on every model since 1946. It was also the first Bristol model to offer power steering as standard from the get-go.
The car’s 114-inch (2740mm) wheelbase is substantial, but must accommodate the famous spare wheel mounted inside the right front fender (the left side has the battery). There is still enough space for a rear seat worthy of the name, though.
It’s a little difficult to differentiate the “late 400” Bristols (i.e. 406 to 411) unless you have an identikit sheet – even then, you can’t see every detail change. The 406 (1958-61) and the 407 (1961-63) were nearly identical, save for the grille trim and the fact that the engine was completely different. The 408 (1963-65) came in two series, sporting yet another grille and new taillights off the Hillman Super Minx. The 409 (1965-67) had a more tapered grille shape, but most of its differences were under the skin.
Externally, the 410’s front end was revised yet again, the side trim got a bit busier and the wheels shrank from 16 inches to 15. Said wheels also now featured Girling discs all around with dual hydraulic circuits.
It’s also a bit confusing to figure out the Bristol family tree because the firm was not exactly consistent in how they named (or rather numbered) their models. Throughout the ‘60s, it seemed as if any small modification called for an extra digit on the car. But for whatever reason, once they reached 411 in 1969, this practice was halted and we were instead treated to “series” of the 411 for a spell. As a result, it may seem to the casual observer that the 411, which lasted till 1976, was a runaway sales success (for a Bristol), when it actually sold a bit less well than its predecessors.
The 410 was only marketed for around 18 months, from about September 1967 to the early weeks of 1969, so it’s no great surprise that these are very rare cars. But Bristol were always rather secretive about exact production numbers, so there are several floating around. Some reckon 102 units were made, others go as low as 79. It seems the most often quoted number is 82, including three LHD cars, which would explain the previous number.
In 99 out of a hundred possible universes, Bristol Cars should have gone under circa 1975, or even earlier. Yet in this reality, they managed to cheat the Grim Repossessor until 2011, putting a halt on a production run that had become Schröndingeresque. There are now murmurs of re-birth (aren’t there always?) with a new EV sports coupé. Time will tell, but I guess it would make sense: as a long-time Anglo-American hybrid, the only way to go now is full electric.
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: 1972 Bristol 411 (and Bristol History) – The Last Great British Eccentric, by Roger Carr
Beautiful Auto.
Very partial to these ones, though I’d no idea that my partiality is so particular: just 80 to pick from makes the choosing not for the choosy. Well, that and a generally precluding impecuniosity of oneself, of course, but one can idly ogle (provided the intentions are pure, the Judge told me).
It is true that the styling is not a bloodrush-inducing spectacle- another thing His Honor sternly warned me about, incidentally – but that is also the appeal. A Rolls Royce Gorgon, or whatever the latest casinomobile they’ve released is yclept, is for shouting everywhere you go (the owners seemingly oblivious to the fact that the average hearer hears something quite at odds with that which they think the crass machine is saying, but I digress). The Bristol is for whispers of importance, it is subtle, and wieldy too, being built from beginning to end on that massive but skinny thirties chassis, and it’s all quite handsome enough. They are also reported as being very fine to drive. Low windrush, solid, lots of power, leather n’ wood ensconcement. Yes please, I think I shall.
I must say, however, I wouldn’t order mine – let’s face it, I mean “steal” mine – in this color. Like the thousand and one shades of French Racing Blue, there are as many of British Racing Green, all always asserted as the authoritative hue of each, and most not really much chop at all. This sparkly greenish stuff here is one such of the latter. It looks like a metallic egg cup we had in the gaudy ’70’s, and I am simply not going to drive about in anything reminiscent of a chicken’s bumnut holder, even if it’s not for long and not legally mine.
I wonder why the blog administrator mixed your post on the Bristol with Tatra87′ s one.
As a kid, Pop would take me to the New York Auto Show every year. Bristol must have sold only a tiny handful of these in the US in the 1970s, because their booth was in the basement, along with the likes of Excalibur and Avanti II.
I don’t care for the proportions. That long dash-to-axle distance makes it look like it was designed for some sort of straight-12 engine.
The proportions (and chassis) date back to the 1930s BMW 327. Then add some front overhang for good measure.
It’s a stunning find, and no surprise as to where exactly you did find it, and I adore the interior, I could just sit there and make vroom vroom noises all day long.
While I really like the headlight and inner light treatment when viewed from the front, I can’t get over the side view (6th pic down). Having the spare in the side like that causes the resulting proportions to sort of look like a cross between a Ford Falcon and a Dodge Viper and while each works by itself, when combined, well…yeah.
Still, any Bristol sighting is a (very) good sighting. I’ll keep my eyes peeled here just in case…
That’s what happens when you essentially build a 1930s BMW coupe…until almost forever.
There´s a Lancia Ypsilon in front of the Bristol. It looks as if it is painted one of the 100 plus colours Lancia made available for this car. The Bristol, it goes without saying, is an extraordinary car. It is such a pity the company went under, leaving little for the person of taste to choose from if they had 150,000 quid available. Lamborghini? Ferrari? No, thank you. And Rolls Royces and Bentleys are a bit too common, no?
I have always been fascinated by these cars – you could think of this car as the British Avanti, or the Avanti as the American Bristol. Like the Avanti being built on a Studebaker chassis which traced it’s way back perhaps all the way to the 1940’s (and the Avanti was built on frames left over from when Studebaker folded), the Bristol was built on a chassis that was essentially a 1930’s BMW design, hence the very long distance between the greenhouse and the wheels – they only started putting the spare there because otherwise that was empty space once they got rid of the 1930’s-style body of the Bristol 401/402.
It’s not-surprisingly very difficult to find how many Bristols were made in total, especially after the 1970’s. Tony Crook probably thought it was in his best interest to keep that close to the vest, and the numbers are even more confused because Bristol possibly did a bigger business upgrading and rebuilding older Bristols, so often what was a Series 2 might have started as a Series 1. Tony Crook used to say “no more than 3 a week”, but as far as anyone can tell, maybe 34 Bristol Blenheims, the last version of this car, were made between 1992? and 2009, about 2 a year.
Nice to see that Bristol took the shifter handle as well as the quadrant indicator from Chrysler for the Torquflite transmission when they got the 318 engine. Now my 1966 Satellite has something in common with rare car!
somehow photo did not attach. Here it is.
Bristol had a showroom in Kensington, almost the last car maker to maintain one in London by the 80s. If you tried to go in, Tony Crook would gauge whether or not you looked suitable. Few got past the front door. Definitely an iconoclasts car.
Adjusted size of photo, hope third time is the charm
One of my uncles had a Sport Fury with that shifter, and it was even the same color as today’s feature car, but how many Bristol customers would know about the interior details of Yank tanks?
Outstanding find and write-up. Bristol is my favorite car that I’ve never seen. Maybe someday.
Bluemel, there is a name from the past, every kid I knew back in the day would have had a Bluemels bike pump, had no idea they made steering wheels and other car parts, great to learn, thanks.
That’s a fascinating brand, with ugly styling and mediocre engine and transmission, and yet it means the owner is a person of high taste, old money taste.
They really do have a strange allure.
Also one could return it to the factory for an refurbishment of to be modified to suit one’s preferences.
The presence of the UK number plates on that example permits one to date it accurately – the F suffix ran from August 1967 to July 1968.
When I was a kid, I got a book (that I still have) titled The Great Book of Sports Cars, published by Consumer Guide. It’s a great big picture book with a page of text for each sports car, all presented in alphabetical order. My most vivid memory of my book is my coming home from school in 8th grade after having watched an ancient 16mm film on motion in physics class. The film producers used a TR3A to delineate the concepts, and I was almost certainly the only one awake in that warm, dark room because I loved the car so much, but all I knew was that it was a Triumph (because it was spelled out in big letters on the nose). I used that big book to identify the model.
Anyway, sorry for the digression – I could never figure out why there were several Bristols in the book. There’s no possible explanation that convinces me that they’re sports cars. As a kid, I remember trying to like their styling because they were so “exotic” when juxtaposed with my midwestern sensibilities, but I just couldn’t do it. And this one has a Poly 318? There aren’t many engines less exotic than that.
I imagine that Bristols weren’t inexpensive, and if one could buy a DB4 as highlighted in your other post this week for even a whiff of the same price, it’s no wonder they sold so few. Still, seeing one in the wild is fun and I’d be just as excited as you probably were.
These have always been among my most favorite automobiles. While not a sports car the impeccable coachwork with Chrysler V8 power and transmission and understated design is, to my mind, the ultimate combination for a fast touring GT. As a small-time vintage automobile dealer in the ’80s I had a chance to buy a decent maroon finished ’69 411 (383/TF) for a price that was ALMOST believable. However I opted for a very low mile E-Type swb coupe in Wedgwood blue/gray instead. I still wish I’d taken the plunge.
It should be said that it makes complete sense that a RR/Bentley restorer would favor these cars; they were built to standards every bit the equal, if not better, of those more famous and upright icons. Truly the ideal British gentleman’s luxurious yet sporty conveyance.