By 1977, nearly every Cadillac model had been downsized except the Eldorado, whose turn wouldn’t come until 1979. Dated, gargantuan, and gaudy, late second-generation FWD Eldorados like this low-mileage Colonial Yellow example still sold amazing well, putting a lot of extra money into the pockets of Cadillac dealers at the height of the brand’s popularity — a little extra butter on Cadillac’s bread.
After 1977, the second-generation FWD Cadillac Eldorado was officially a dinosaur, and an endangered species. The Eldorado was now bigger than any other Cadillac model except the rare formal sedan and limousine, stretching 224 inches overall on a 126.3-inch wheelbase. It had shed a nominal 93 lb with the switch from the previous 500-cid V-8 to the latest 425-cid engine, but its curb weight was still on the high side of 5,000 lb. Prices started at a hefty $12,401, and mileage remained in the “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it” category.
Like many aging celebrities, the 1977–1978 Eldorado had been facelifted more times than it was polite to count. The basic shape was the same, but the beveled surfaces and ’50s retro nods of Wayne Kady’s original design for the 1971 car (whose conception Kady discusses in the above video) had been diluted almost beyond recognition.
However, the Eldorado did still look like a Cadillac, and that was all some ’70s buyers needed to hear. Annual Eldorado sales had topped 40,000 units every year since 1972, and they never dropped below that level even in the worst days of the energy crisis.
True, the final years of this generation Eldorado didn’t sell as well as the rival Lincoln Continental Mark V. Cadillac built 47,344 Eldorados for 1977 and 46,816 for 1978, while Mark V production totaled 80,321 for 1977 and 72,602 for 1978. However, given the age of the design, the high price, and the fickleness of buyer tastes, the Eldorado sold quite well. It was significantly more popular than the Oldsmobile Toronado, the 1977–1978 Buick Riviera, or the Chrysler New Yorker Brougham (the artist formerly known as Imperial).
Also, Cadillac needed the Eldorado far less than Lincoln needed the Mark V. The Mark V sold extremely well for a pricey personal luxury car, but it represented more than 40 percent of Lincoln’s total volume. The Continental and Town Car didn’t break 100,000 units in either 1977 or 1978, while sales of the newly downsized C-body Cadillac lines (the De Ville and Fleetwood Brougham) were now averaging a staggering 250,000 cars a year. During this period, Cadillac and Lincoln actually had about the same number of total dealer franchises (at points, Lincoln was slightly ahead), but Cadillac was selling almost twice as many cars per dealer. As much as buyers liked the Mark V, the Cadillac brand was red-hot.
So, the Eldorado was just the icing on a large and lavish cake. Cadillac sold around 350,000 cars in 1978, and the Eldorado accounted for only about 13 percent of that total.
During much of its run, the second-generation Eldorado had been cordially detested by most contemporary magazine reviewers. Consumer publications like Consumer Reports and Consumer Guide saw no justification for its bulk, its poor maneuverability, or its thirst, and the elephantine Eldorado wasn’t fun to drive in any way the buff books could respect.
The Eldorado still had the questionable distinction of being the world’s biggest front-wheel-drive car, but while its Unitized Power Package remained a marvel of engineering, that was old news by the late ’70s. I doubt more than one in five Eldorado buyers knew or cared which end of the car was driving. Since 1976, the Eldorado had featured standard four-wheel vented disc brakes with a Hydro-Boost hydraulic booster, but the previously available Track Master rear anti-lock brakes, GM Air Cushion Restraint System airbags, and Bendix electronic fuel injection were all gone by 1978. (The injected 425 was still optional on the De Ville and Fleetwood Brougham, but both the 1978 brochure and contemporary Automotive News specifications indicate that the injection system was no longer available on the Eldorado.) Customers were unperturbed — they weren’t buying these cars for technology.
Gadgets were another matter. Cadillac had gradually expanded its standard equipment lists in the ’70s, so Eldorado buyers no longer had to pay extra for automatic climate control, tinted glass, an AM/FM radio, or a power driver’s seat. (Power steering, power brakes, and power windows had all been on the Eldorado since the ’50s.) However, there were still plenty of options, including cruise control, a tilt-and-telescope steering wheel, a power passenger seat, automatic headlight controls, and various fancier stereos.
Surprisingly, 37.6 percent of 1978 Eldorado buyers ordered a CB radio, more than I would have expected in a car like this.
The biggest-ticket item was the Custom Biarritz package. Because this was an option package rather than a separate model, I don’t have a sales breakdown for it, but Cadillac said at the start of the 1978 model year that they expected 35 to 40 percent of production to have this $1,831 option.
The Biarritz was distinguished on the outside by the stainless steel zig-zag molding under the side windows (extending all the way through the hood), a special stripe treatment, sail panel opera lamps …
… and a smaller backlight, a modification performed for Cadillac by the American Sunroof Corporation (ASC). This surgery mandated a padded vinyl roof, which was theoretically optional otherwise. (Cadillac built only 710 Eldorados without the vinyl top for 1978, but a vinyl roof did cost extra.)
Here’s how the standard Eldorado backlight compared.
The Astroroof (power moonroof) was not part of the Biarritz package, but was often ordered with it, for an additional $995.
Inside, the Biarritz got a 50/50 Dual Comfort split bench seat with “pillow-style” tufted button seats and leather seating surfaces.
You could order the Dual Comfort seat and the acres of butter-colored leather on the regular Eldorado, but not the pillow-like seat cushions.
This color (thankfully not the sole option) reminds me of the famous scene in the 1948 film adaptation of Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House where Muriel Blandings (Myrna Loy) is picking out paint colors and advises the contractor, “I tell you, Mr. Pedelford, if you’ll send one of your workmen to the grocer for a pound of their best butter and match that exactly, you can’t go wrong.”
If you looked towards the rear in the Biarritz, you could immediately see the cap ASC added around the backlight. The appeal of this kind of thing is lost on me — the rear visibility in these cars is bad enough without making it worse on purpose — but as Wayne Kady noted in the video presented above, ASC founder Heinz Prechter had his finger on the pulse of tacky semi-custom addenda, and there was obviously a market for it.
Candidly, I’m not a fan of the second-generation Eldorado, with or without the Biarritz treatment. Its styling hadn’t been especially graceful to begin with, and even by the standards of its time, the 1977–1978 Eldo was an overdecorated lumbering barge. If you craved Cadillac luxury, there really wasn’t any compelling reason not to just buy a downsized Coupe de Ville, which was a better car in nearly every way and cost about $1,800 less.
But, Cadillac didn’t need everyone to love the aging outgoing Eldorado — Cadillac sales in this era would still have been robust even if the Eldorado had simply taken a break between 1976 and 1979. It sold more than well enough, with no doubt lavish margins for both division and dealers. Customers who opted to wait for the all-new 1979 Eldorado wouldn’t be disappointed, as the third-generation car was a vast improvement in nearly every area, but for Cadillac and Cadillac salespeople, the outgoing car was like chocolate chips in a big bowl of ice cream, in an era when it still seemed that, at least commercially, Cadillac could do no wrong.
Related Reading
Curbside Classic: 1977 Cadillac Eldorado – The Penalty of Leadership (by Jason Shafer)
1978 Cadillac Eldorado: The Biggest, Baddest Brougham Of Them All (by Tom Klockau)
COAL: 1978 Cadillac Eldorado – Reason #425 On Why Cadillacs Are Underappreciated (by Jason Shafer)
Curbside Classic: 1978 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz Classic Coupe – A Deadly Sin or Just Deadly? (by Paul N)
Vintage C/D Review: 1978 Cadillac Coupe De Ville: “Surprise! Opulence Can Be Fun!” (by me)
Vintage C/D Review: 1979 Cadillac Eldorado – A Brilliant False Dawn (by me)
Aaron, I agree with your view on Eldorado; it was overwrought, the Biarritz even more so. I would rather have a Mark V, although there is no doubt that Cadillac still carried more prestige in it’s the name at the time; I believe the Eldorado was the most expensive model in the lineup (not considering the limo) and that certainly represented a “quality” for some buyers.
Even the Eldorado Biarritz actually wasn’t as expensive as a Seville, believe it or not. Some of that was that the Seville had even more standard equipment, but a loaded Eldorado Biarritz was unlikely to top $18,000, whereas a loaded Seville Elegante diesel with Astroroof could conceivably top $19,000.
After reading the recent CC on the foibles of the 1980 Delta 88 diesel, I can’t imagine the ire one would have after laying down that kind of coin for a Seville diesel when the engine maladies quickly reared their ugly head.
To say it would sour the owner on any future Cadillacs (and probably GM products, in general) would be an understatement.
I would never have imagined that a “small” Cadillac with an Olds V-8 (granted, it did have fuel injection) could cost more than the Eldorado, but of course you are correct.
That was a very deliberate choice for Cadillac: They were determined that the Seville not be perceived as some kind of budget model. Cadillac buyers had a pretty acute sense of pecking order, which was probably why the Calais had sold poorly (it was dropped after 1976) — apparently nobody wanted to be seen as only being able to afford the “cheap” Cadillac. Making sure the Seville was the priciest of the bunch was kind of a crude, brute-force way to avoid that, but it did work.
I have a ’78 Eldo Biaritz w electric Astroroof, final edition. I’m pretty sure it has every option, inc CB radio. I think it’s UGLY. I bought it for a friend in Israel, but he wasn’t impressed, and it’s been sitting in my carpeted former furniture store ever since!
https://photos.app.goo.gl/W5xxVMG7vajmp6ii7
Oh, that’s one of the café au lait two-tone editions. I was thinking of using pictures of one of those, but I couldn’t resist the triple-yellow.
Took dozens of these in on trade in the `80s at Fanning Cadillac-Buick in Chicago.
At least 3 of the two-tone `78 Biarritz models that I can recall.
Always took them home when I could.
Like driving a couch. \o/
The CB radio craze was still going full force in 1978. My father ordered the factory CB in his 1978 Lincoln Town Coupe. For those who spent time on the highways, a CB radio was considered the best tech available to outwit Smoky and avoid expensive tickets for violation of the hated 55 mph speed limit. I wonder if the original owners handle was Land O Lakes. 🙂
I’m with you on the styling Aaron, they look like factory pimpmobiles and did right from the start. I for me personally this generation Eldorado’s only real highlight was the convertible option, which became the ONLY way to get a caddy convertible through the 70s, and in my opinion the styling without its gaudy roof looked much more palatable. After the convertible was dropped though these 77-78s just seem like overwrought zombies.
I might be able to argue that the 1977 introduction of the downsized Fleetwood and deVille models probably *increased* Eldorado sales. The real Cadillac traditionalists likely walked right past the new “small” Cadillacs to put their money down on “the last real Cadillac”.
It didn’t, though. Eldorado sales dipped slightly from 1976 to 1977, and a little more for 1978. Model year sales of the De Ville and Fleetwood rose by more than 23 percent from 1976 to 1977, and the C-body models picked up a quarter point of market share. The downsized cars were huge hits, and while I’m sure there were a few traditionalists who sniffed disapprovingly, that had no commercial impact at all.
I’m probably in the minority here, but I actually like the light yellow color both inside and out. However I would not order it in a land barge like this, but rather in a small sporty car.
I kind of like the butter-yellow leather, but the triple-yellow-with-color-keyed-wheel-discs look is perhaps a bit much.
I love this, if your going to have a car of this type, you may as well have the most extreme example, I’m starting to really love these big GM dreamboats.
No sunroof for me though.
“Tacky Addenda” would be a great name for a hard-bitten film noire detective’s secretary.
I always loved the body color wheel covers on these. Interesting how in the next decade, the body color wheel trend would go to Pontiac. On the Caddy I’ve seen them in person in red and brown.
There was a guy in town who is now passed, was one of the top community figures, who had one of these in red. Similar anyway, as his was a convertible. He would park downtown on summer evenings. When the tourists would walk by and ask if he had any Grey Poupon, he would respond with the jar he kept in his glove box.