Charles Stewart Rolls FRGS FRMetS MICE
27th August, 1877
Sports cars are funny old things. The world’s major producers of uncomfortable and unreasonable sporting motor vehicles all market machines that have distinct national traits. German sports cars are efficient, reliable and designed for roads where you drive as fast as you wish. American sports cars are brutal and rely on the great American mantra of ‘more is better’ as long as the ‘more’ in question is cubic inches. Italian sportscars are designed to be glorious for 15 minutes and then catapult you, screaming and on fire, into the Tyrrhenian Sea. British sports cars are designed solely for the reason of delivering Rachel Weisz to a rain sodden garden party, completely dry, but with the roof down.
Similarly, the engines in them all sound like they come from their respective countries. German engines hum with restrained threat, as if everything is ok for the moment, but things can and will change if someone fails to show the correct papers on time. The crocodile growl and gurgle of a big American V8 is brontosaurus and prehistoric. Lamborghinis banshee scream at each other like two stallions fighting over a meatball.
And British sports cars sound like Lord of the Rings. Steam trains and jackhammers. Great, cranking, Victorian machinery. Dwarves, Khazad-dûm, foghorns and cavalry charges.
Like King Arthur in a cathedral.
The British find America’s overtly patriotic reaction to such things as their national anthem very odd. Such egregious displays of national pride aren’t the done thing on the rainier side of the Atlantic, where it’s simply too demonstrative, old chap. Have some decorum, will you. However, even the most reluctantly patriotic of British spines can be snapped tautly to attention by the sound of an engine. Not any old engine, you understand, but one engine in particular.
The 27-litre, liquid cooled, V12, Rolls-Royce Merlin.
In 1936, R. J. Mitchell, chief designer at Supermarine Aviation Works near Southampton put a V12 Merlin into his new aircraft, called it the ‘Spitfire’, and created a machine that, nearly 90 years later, is still held in awe by the British.
In terms of machinery only the T-34 Soviet tank, the tank that saved the USSR from the Nazis, holds the same place in a nation’s conscience. The Spitfire was the plane that saved Britain in 1940, destroyed the Luftwaffe, inspired a desperate nation back off its knees and back into the fray and did so whilst being the most beautiful fighting machine ever made, sounding like a balrog backfiring down a coal mine, and being capable of delivering a bone-dry Rachel Weisz to any garden party of her choosing within the hour.
If you’ve never experienced a Spitfire flypast, and there are still some of them around, it’s quite something. It begins with a change in expectation. A field full of people suddenly aware that something is coming, like cows when the weather is changing. You can’t hear it yet - it’s currently about 4 miles away, barreling along the treetops - but you can feel the air begin to chatter excitedly. Another minute or so and there’s a mechanical whining sound, like a straining turbine and the grass begins to get nervous. You’ll strain to hear it - what’s that sound? Is that it? Are those waves? The wind? - It’s all those sounds. It’s the environment rearranging itself like a bow-wave in front of the aircraft. It’s the sound of nature getting out of the way.
And then the growling starts. It’s not an angry dog snarl, or a frightened animal warning. It’s a bear. A big bear. A bear played by Idris Elba. A big, urgent bear played by Idris Elba, who is now doing 350mph at hedgerow height directly towards you.
…….ggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggrrrrrrgrrrrrrrGGRRRRRRREXCUSEMEWOULDYOUMINDAWFULLYGETTINGTHEFUCKOUTOFTHEWAYTHANKYOUEVERSOMUCHIVEGOTRACHELWEISZINTHEBACKGGGGRRRRRRRRRgggggrrrrrgrrrrrggrrrrrr………..
And then it’s gone again, the air sucked out from around you, leaves and dust and hedgehogs spinning in tiny circles on the grass, the faint whiff of oil, sandalwood and glory hanging in the air. And you’ll wonder why the Luftwaffe even bothered trying.
You’ll spin, excitedly on the spot in a daze, looking for it. Suddenly you’ll see it, a tiny Icarus dot against the Sun at 3,000ft, where it will hang for what seems like ages until you realise that it’s coming back. Straight out of the Sun at you. And it’s accelerating this time.
To most people, the name Rolls-Royce conjures images of extraordinarily expensive, stately cars, but they have always been, first and foremost, an engine manufacturer and an aero engine manufacturer at that. And Charles Rolls was responsible both for the dedication to engines and to aircraft.
Charles Stewart Rolls was born on August 27, 1877, in Berkeley Square, London, into an aristocratic family. He was the youngest son of Lord and Lady Llangattock and was raised with a passion for engineering. Rolls received his early education at Eton before studying mechanical and applied sciences at Trinity College, Cambridge. Even during his studies, Rolls was captivated by emerging technologies. He made a name for himself early on, becoming one of the first people in Britain to own a car, a Peugeot Phaeton he purchased in 1896 at the age of 18. His love for automobiles shaped his future career and marked the start of his ventures in the automotive world.
In 1903, with financial backing from his family, Rolls established one of Britain’s first car dealerships, C.S. Rolls & Co., specializing in importing and selling French cars like Peugeots and Belgian Minervas. Although his dealership found success, Rolls desired something more substantial than simply selling foreign cars. He wanted to see British engineering at the forefront of the industry.
This ambition led him to Henry Royce, an engineer whose technical prowess perfectly complemented Rolls’ business acumen. The two were introduced by a mutual acquaintance, Henry Edmunds, in May 1904 at the Midland Hotel in Manchester. Although Rolls initially preferred multi-cylinder engines, Royce’s two-cylinder car left a strong impression. By December of that year, they had formalized a partnership that would give birth to Rolls-Royce Limited in 1906. Rolls brought the business strategy and public relations skills, while Royce focused on the engineering side. The first car produced by the company, the Rolls-Royce 10 hp, debuted in 1904 and set new standards for smoothness and reliability.
Despite the success of Rolls-Royce, Rolls' interest in the company began to wane as his passion for aviation grew. Even before his partnership with Royce, Rolls had been a pioneer in air travel. He was an avid balloonist, making over 170 ascents, and won the Gordon Bennett Gold Medal in 1903 for the longest balloon flight. Rolls was also a co-founder of the Royal Aero Club in 1901 and was only the second person in Britain to be granted a pilot’s license.
His fascination with powered flight intensified after witnessing a demonstration by the Wright brothers. In 1909, he purchased one of their planes and made over 200 flights, cementing his reputation as a leading figure in British aviation. His most famous achievement came on June 2, 1910, when he became the first person to complete a non-stop double crossing of the English Channel. The feat took 95 minutes and was recognized with the Royal Aero Club’s Gold Medal. Rolls' successful flight demonstrated the potential of powered aviation at a time when flight was still in its infancy.
Tragically, Rolls’ aviation career was cut short just weeks later. On July 12, 1910, during a flying display in Bournemouth, the tail of his Wright Flyer broke off mid-air, causing the plane to crash. Rolls was killed instantly at the age of 32, making him the first Briton to die in an aircraft accident and the first aviation fatality in Britain involving a powered aircraft. His death was a national loss, with numerous memorials established in his honor, including a statue in Monmouth and a stained-glass window at All Saints' Church in Eastchurch.
While his life was brief, Charles Rolls left a lasting impact on both the automotive and aviation industries. His work with Henry Royce laid the foundation for Rolls-Royce to become one of the most respected names in luxury cars and engineering. Simultaneously, his adventurous spirit helped advance aviation during its formative years, proving the viability of flight across bodies of water and setting the stage for future pioneers.