As for the 1595cc ‘four’ and 2103cc ‘six’,
these bucked the trend towards overhead-valve units, but for eminently logical
reasons. The F-head configuration allowed a hemispherical combustion chamber
with a generously sized inlet valve: the result was good gas flow, efficient
combustion and, as a consequence, decent performance plus respectable fuel
consumption while retaining the low compression ratio demanded by the 72-octane
petrol of the time.
If the 60bhp four-cylinder Rover makes a
neat rival for the 63bhp Triumph 1800, the Solihull car is nevertheless
handicapped by its extra hundredweight or so. The balance is more even between
the 75 (with its 72bhp) and the 68bhp Renown. Price? At the time of the tubular-chassis
2000 the advantage was with the Triumph, which cost $1,486.5 including Purchase
Tax, against the $1,659 at which the Rover retailed.
Chris Cartmell’s 75 certainly doesn’t
suggest that its original purchaser would have felt shortchanged by the extra
cost over the Triumph: discreet good taste is allied to one thoughtful detail
after another, from the under-dash tool tray to the button you can press to get
a sump level readout on the fuel gauge. Plain-grain wood – including on the
parcel shelf, a nice touch – is matched to a full set of soberly black rimmed
and well-calibrated white-on-black dials. The steering column adjusts, a winder
regulates seat rake and there is a quick-action lever for the driver’s window.
It’s a bit ’30s, with its embossed door trims and roll armrests at the rear,
but in six-light form the cabin is pleasantly airy, helped by the low-set front
bucket seats.
On the road, the ‘six’ is refined, smooth
and potent. Mid-range acceleration is brisk and a 60mph cruise comfortable, being
15mph inside the car’s maximum speed. Keeping the Rover rolling is no hardship.
The stubby floor change is clunk-clunk precise over its tight gate, and a quick
double-declutch on the way through gets around the unsynchronized second.
Despite a well-weighted clutch, that’s doing it the hard way, ignoring Rover’s
traditional freewheel.
With this engaged, easy clutch less change
is the norm, slurring cleanly between second and third and even more so into
and out of top, where the power take-up is almost imperceptible. It’s a more
relaxing way to motor, and results in impressive fuel returns, says Cartmell.
In
six-light form the cabin is pleasantly airy, helped by the low-set front bucket
seats
If you want to press on, the steering is an
ally, being quick and free of play. The Rover corners securely, with little
roll, and hold its line faithfully. The suspension with the later telescopic at
the front – is firm without becoming abrupt, while the hydro mechanical brakes
have a fair bit of travel but stop the car adequately. A bonus is a robust
pull-up handbrake as opposed to the Triumph’s sticky pistol-grip.
If you leave the Rover impressed by its
sporting road manners, you have no such expectations of Mike Bettridge’s
Triumph, which he describes as “an old man’s car”. But first you take in the
Renown’s physical presence, because it has that in spades. Assuming you’ve
fallen for its rectilinear classicism, you then notice the ‘tripod’ P80 lamps,
the chrome door hinges, the glass rear number plate unit, the valance bumpers
and the radiator cap that isn’t a dummy. Then open the boot and you’ll see that
it is carpeted, has a light and boasts little pop-up guards on the lid to stop
cases sliding about if you use it as a platform. Inside it’s the same story,
the crisp horizontal pleated seating and vaguely quaint wood dash being
accompanied by touches such as adjustable front armrests and a little cover to
flip over the rear view mirror to avoid being dazzled at night.
Sitting commandingly upright on the front
bench, there’s intimation that the Triumph will be a statelier ride than the
Rover – all the better to appreciate the countryside thanks to the panoramic
vision afforded by that thin pillared windscreen. The steering, blessed with a
certain amount of play, reinforces this impression: it’s heavy on lock – of
which there is plenty and you feel disinclined to take liberties on country
lanes. The column gear change sends out a similar message that you should go
gently – not that it’s in any way an awkward shift.
Inside
it’s the same story, the crisp horizontal pleated seating and vaguely quaint
wood dash being accompanied
Completing this pastel-colored comportment
is an under-damped chassis that leans into bends, despite the standard
anti-roll bar, and is ready to run wide if you insist too much. The
all-hydraulic brakes, meanwhile, do the job well.
If you’re unimpressed so far, the
transformational ingredient is the engine. Inspired by Citroën’s Traction Avant
unit, the wet-liner ‘big four’ is sweet and torque-rich, and at 40-50mph – a
good Renown speed – it is delightfully sophisticated and thoroughly
modern-feeling. Normally the edge would be taken off by the low gearing, but
Bettridge has fitted overdrive, which means that cruising is suitably
unflustered.
Which to choose? The Triumph has an
upper-crust distinction to its lines, its detail presentation and its quality
interior appointments. Contemplating such a car on one’s driveway or riding in
the back would surely have been an enduring delight for an owner of the time.
The surprise is that the driving experience is far from the disappointment one
might expect.
IoE
‘six’ good for 72bhp on single Solex carb
But, like the Rolls-Royces that its styling
emulates, perhaps for some the Renown might have been a touch too ostentatious.
Just as some would-be Rolls purchasers might have ordered, say, an Aerodyne
Bristol instead, so it is easy to see potential Triumph buyers plumping for the
quietly tasteful and conservatively well-executed Rover. They would not have
felt let down, and might well have been surprised by how the P3 drives with
more sporting panache than suggested by the marque’s staid reputation.
In my heart of hearts and notwithstanding
the P3’s initial teething troubles - I know that the Rover is a better-engineered
car. But I can imagine the serene pleasure of many a leisurely journey in the
airy and mild-mannered Triumph. I’d be happy with either.
