To visit Europe or Asia is to be constantly exposed to the remnants of empires long gone. One travels the modern streets of Granada or Madrid, and suddenly, some ruin of Roman, Visigod, or Arab origin appears. What’s left is usually not much, and one has to wonder, what was it like during its prime? What led to its downfall? And how much the world has changed since?
Ephesus ruins in Turkey. Image from Wikipedia.
Some ruins work better than others to reimagine the past. Sometimes, it’s a few scattered rocks on a hillside. Hard to think of them as a Visigod castle, or whatever they were at some point. Sometimes, they’re whole cities; with structures, streets, and houses in crumbling condition and faded colors. Occasionally, they exude some of the splendor they once had, even if the visible scars prove hard for the imagination to overcome. One stares, walks around and tries to envision. This must have been quite the place back in the day…
Coming from the American continent, distant history is hard stuff to fathom. Anthropologists will tell us that there’s a lot of history in California’s past, but walking around LA, most visible vestiges are only a few decades old. Easy stuff for my mind to wrap itself around. I hear, “That house is from the 1940s,” and my head just pieces it all together. “Well, that’s a bit of FDR, rock ‘n roll, Cold War, Rocky movies, the internet, and The Hunger Games!” Give or take a few events here and there, it’s easy to link those decades to today.
But centuries-old events are an altogether different proposition, and it’s quite difficult to reimagine a distant fallen empire.
Packard Clipper, by Ralf K. From the Cohort.
One could argue that taking into account the speed at which car fashions come and go, reimagining a particular brand’s heyday is just as hard. Even if the span of time is only a few decades. Or years. In the car world, a few cycles of poor products are the equivalent of the Roman Empire’s protracted decay. Marques can fall in favor or disappear altogether, with astonishing speed.
And much like their human counterparts, those who lived during a brand’s imperial days talk of them in veneration, with names spoken in reverence: Packard, Pierce-Arrow, Pontiac. Meanwhile, the generations that follow only see ruins, and wonder: So… what was the big deal?
Photo by Ralf K, from the Cohort.
Such is my relationship with Cadillac. Not that the brand was completely rotten to me, but its prime days were well behind my time. To see a Cadillac in the late ’80s was to see a car with outdated styling and hardware, somewhat tacky, and of interest only to aging folk. Elvis usually came to mind too, at a point when that wasn’t cool anymore.
The brand had also pushed itself downmarket for so long, that by the mid-80s enough Caddys littered the streets in junky condition or worse. Many were just eyesores.
This had once been a luxury marque? Talk about a fallen empire.
I had to ponder such matters after I found this most extraordinary pair in San Salvador; a 1947 Cadillac Fleetwood, and a 1956 Morris Minor. Both were products of prominent empires, each built during their company’s prime. Iconic products from an illustrious imperial past.
We’ll start with the ’47 Fleetwood. This was a Cadillac from its peak, on its way to obliterating the competition in the American luxury field. Arguably, the last year its styling could be directly traced to the company’s trendsetting 1938 Sixty Special. Bill Mitchell’s first hit, and an influential design if there ever was one; architect of the three-box language and preacher of the lower-wider mantra. A school that would dominate car design for decades, as the tiny Morris Minor sitting next to it inadvertently proves.
Since I’ve no idea when we’ll ever see another early Sixty Special-derived Cadillac at CC, I may as well cover this chapter. However briefly. The design’s origin had its roots in the Panhard 6 CS Panoramic, seen by Harley Earl and Bill Knudsen at the 1934 Paris Auto Show. It’s hard to imagine now, but the way the Panoramic broke tradition with its roof and window treatment was quite eye-catching at the time.
In any case, Knudsen was rather taken with the Panoramic’s roof treatment, and his original intention was to purchase one. Earl got him to quit the notion, assuring him GM’s stylists could do one better.
Back in Detroit, a young Bill Mitchell got the assignment. Originally, Earl’s instruction was for a ‘youthful’ LaSalle model, but the design soon became a Cadillac. According to Mitchell, Earl paid close attention to the Sixty Special’s development, with a number of novel ideas being tested. The proposal had a low stance, improved on the Panhard’s window treatment, and discarded the then-standard running boards. More importantly, as clays advanced, the proposal’s trunk kept getting longer and longer. Mitchell’s team also added suitcase fenders with knife-blade edges and a sculpted elaborate grille upfront.
Just as in the Panhard, the trunk and roof treatment were the design’s most striking elements. It was an unusual approach at the time, but the styling department liked the looks and Earl championed it. The new design made a dramatic styling statement, the kind that defines or breaks a brand.
You know you’re onto something good when – besides healthy sales- everyone emulates you. The Sixty Special’s groundbreaking three-box shape soon became a norm in the automotive field. And as we know, just about everyone adopted its language, as it’s curiously evident on the Minor’s body. As tidy as it is, the proportions are Caddy-like; in reduced and compacted form.
And we can be certain that neither Issigonis nor Morris Motors were thinking ‘Cadillac’ when creating the Minor.
Our 1947 Fleetwood traces its lines directly to the 1941/42 redesigns, the division’s last significant updates before the war. The ’41s carried the first version of Cadillac’s ‘tombstone’ grille, intended to give the car a ‘wider’ stance. In 1942, ‘bullet shape’ fenders replaced the ‘suitcase’ ones, amongst other minor updates that were to remain in the ’46-’47 models.
As with most other makes, the ’46-’47s were mild refreshes of those pre-war designs. Yet, Cadillacs were a hot commodity in the intense postwar market. Just in the US, the division had over 100K back orders in wait at the beginning of 1947. Needless to say, the scarcity only increased the desire for Cadillac’s products, with dealers adding a good markup over sticker price.
And yet, against all that domestic pent-up demand, the company still managed to move a number of units abroad. As our sample in San Salvador shows.
Let’s devote some lines to the Minor now, another member from a fallen empire. A proud dynasty in some ways harder to imagine than Cadillac’s, with the presence of British goods now seeming very distant. Still, British-made carried a lot of weight around the world when this Minor came out of the assembly line. Just in Central America, many railways were of British origin and that nation’s industrial might was synonymous with speed and modernity. (We lost a good deal of forests in the process, but well, progress didn’t worry about such things then).
When this Minor arrived at local dealers, the UK’s fame as a cradle of industry still loomed large in this region. That the market the Minor once occupied was overtaken by a bunch of newcomers from Asia, using hardware of UK origin as its basis, speaks of the hubris that topples empires.
But let’s leave those downfall details aside for now. Meanwhile, let’s take one more look at these two side by side, and the curious way they mirror each other’s shape. As mentioned, no one at Morris Motors had Cadillac in mind during the Minor’s conception. However, the widespread language established by the Sixty Special is evident.
Styling-wise, one aspect where the original Minor really broke away from American tendencies was its face. If Alec Issigonis’ had his way, the Minor’s fascia would have remained unchanged throughout the car’s production years. This post’s 1956 Minor carries the Series II update, a restyle done against Issigonis’ wishes. The new look was obviously following trends, American mostly. Another sign of how trendsetting Detroit was at the time.
I actually had known about this unusual pair for some time, as both had appeared for sale at the local Marketplace. As far as I understand, the two belonged to the same individual who would rent them for events such as weddings. Luckily, the online advert showed their approximate location, which allowed me to track them down.
Nothing wrong with a bit of automotive stalking, right?
Let’s take one more look at our 1947 Fleetwood. At least while the security guard won’t stop me.
Talking about specifics, I believe that what we’ve here is a Cadillac Fleetwood Sixty Special. In the words of Cadillac’s brochure, a ‘five-passenger touring sedan,’ built in a factory where ‘craftmanship is a creed and accuracy a law.’ Only one engine was offered in all 1947 models; a 346CID V8, with 150 HP. As for shifting, it was provided by GM’s 4-speed Hydramatic, available on Cadillacs since 1941. Trim and options were minor variations of the 1942 restyle. The most noticeable one being the first appearance of Cadillac’s “sombrero” wheel covers.
By the end of 1947, the division almost reached prewar production numbers with 62,000 units built. Of those, 6,561 were Sixty Specials.
I’ve no idea if this Fleetwood carries the original paint or not, and I’ve my doubts it does. But other than that, most of the vehicle appears to be original and unrestored, with only hints of patina appearing on the chrome bits.
Here, up close, is another bit of updated trim for 1947; the rear tail lights. The upper round lens casing already hints at the fins that were to appear in the 1948 Cadillac, which was to be another trendsetting design.
In this shot, lots of sculpting in close inspection is evident. More than it appears at first sight. It’s a good sign that this amount of detailing doesn’t detract from the car’s overall shape. Instead, it nicely adds to the whole, providing a degree of enjoyment as one examines the vehicle.
Curiously, sometime after my picture taking, my wife came across the Fleetwood as it smoothly glided over our local roads. She dutifully took a few captures and sent them my way. I won’t deny it, it is a rather incongruous sight to see a vintage Cadillac parading around San Salvador’s colorful and hectic streets. Besides this image, I got a few additional blurry ones with the car appearing to make good prowess. It certainly passed with ease my wife’s Uber ride (some Korean 4-banger) that Sunday morning.
Capturing these two together was just icing on the curbivore-cake. The Cadillac was my chance to explore -in the metal- the company’s glory days and reexamine my relationship with the brand.
As for the Minor, what can I say? It’s an all-time favorite of mine, even if I’ve only seen a few in my whole life. Cute and appealing as can be, exuding Britishness from every seam and bolt. As for its background and details, I’ve nothing to add over Roger Carr’s CC take on the model.
Here up close are the Minor’s Series II trim and styling updates; bits that must have appalled Issigonis. I know designers hate it when others tinker with their works, but for once, I’ll give reason to the executives. The Series II updates gave the Minor a more saleable and palatable appearance, providing a friendly look that is endearing to this day.
The Minor is, of course, super tiny by today’s standards. As can be sensed by the tiny 14″ wheels on which it rides.
As it often happens with my Salvadorian finds, the security guard was not fond of my photo taking. While he had stayed out of my hair for the most part, by the time I approached for interior shots, his patience came to an end. I was told to move about and stop with my car-stalking. The fun had come to an end.
Luckily, I do have a couple of captures from the Marketplace sales ad; with the Caddy on the left, and the Minor on the other two. From the photos, I get a sense the Minor’s interior has gone through some refurbishing, while the Cadillac’s looks rather undisturbed and original.
As is known, the Sixty Special’s three-box school of design began a long-lasting dynasty. And lower and longer kept getting ever more so, until the human form couldn’t take it anymore and reverted to our current tall two-box reign.
I honestly can’t see an end to that trend, but humans are a peculiar lot, and can’t help to gravitate to the extremes of a nifty idea. Commodious packaging and commanding views of the road are undisputable goods, but some offerings are getting awfully tall. I know my wife is getting tired of ‘climbing’ into some of her acquaintances’ rides.
As I examined this ’47 Fleetwood up close, I did develop some newfound respect for the house of Cadillac. I won’t deny that I somehow prefer the original 1938 Sixty Special, but this ’47 still carried in spades what the brand lost through the years. In one word: presence.
I know that those who lived the Cadillac dynasty’s prime ache and lament the marque’s eventual fall. But empire-making is hard, and periods of splendor are short-lived. Some empires disappear altogether, others hang on in hopes of reinventing. But if you happened to live through an empire’s splendor and relish the memories, just be glad you were alive to experience them firsthand. For the rest of us, we can only rely on our imagination -and the occasional curbside find- to take us there.
Further reading:
Curtis Perry Capsule: 1946 Cadillac Series 60 Special – The Beginning Of Cadillac’s Dominance
Curbside Classic: 1955 Morris Minor Series II – Britain’s Favourite Car, Bar None, And Rightly So
Wonder how that Morris got there. That’s a Dutch license plate.
I recognized that Morris from 1970s Vancouver! There were a few running about town back then! The old Caddie is new to me tho!
The Panhard had the C column exactly over the rear axle. Perfect.
Who pioneered the hidden door hinge and when? Is there a CC? The ’41 60S fender extended into the front door, which must have been innovative at the time, but without the recurve. Amazing they could push hinging science that far that quickly.
Probably the 1936 Cord 810/812?
As usual, terrific essay, Rich! As for the hidden door hinge, I am also unsure. I viewed the 1934 Airflow Chrysler but it has protruding hinges.
Just looking at my collection of automobile pictures regarding hinges. As best as I can see, 1936 Buicks and De Sotos have concealed door hinges. I found a 1935 Duesenberg with concealed door hinges.
Enjoyed this thoughtful and insightful post. Quite the fortuitous pairing. I too prefer the original 60 Special over the more blobby ones like this one. But things always need to change, if not for the better.
The Minor was a brilliant design in every way, and I rather like the original front end design but I can see why it was changed.
Wow, I never looked at a Morris Minor and thought it was a baby Cadillac styling-wise, but these photos make a good case it somewhat was. The Minor’s front appearance with the headlamps flanking the grille was quite prescient.
The resemblance is even closer with the contemporary Morris Oxford, the Minor’s big brother. It had raised headlights, blended in, from new. As a bonus the inner ends of the door window frames are rounded like the Caddy too.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morris_Oxford#/media/File:Morris_Oxford_MO_1952.jpg
My understanding is that the original Minor headlamps were raised to meet US standards?
When I was a child we had a Minor 1000 – effectively a Series 3 version, with a larger engine and single-pane windshield
The raised headlamps in the Minors wings were adopted first on the US cars from late 1949, and then phased in on all Minors. The grille was similar to the low light, with side (parking) lights where the headlights had been.
The Series II was introduced in July 1952 and for export cars had the BMC A series OHV engine 803cc and the bonnet (hood) ornaments shown. Home market cars still had the side valve (flathead) engine for longer.
The grille with horizontal bars was introduced in 1954.
The Series III Minor 1000 was introduced in October 1956 with a 948cc engine, larger rear window and smaller rear wheel arches than the car shown.
The Series V Minor 1000 came along in September 1962 with the engine enlarged to 1098cc.
My first car was a 1966 2 door, scrapped in April 1979.
What a great pairing! It’s interesting to note, that while a modern Cadillac relies on a lot of high tech features to give it it’s luxury chops, vintage models had to display their refinement of the basic automotive functions. Large size for passenger and luggage space. A long wheelbase for a smooth and steady ride. The large V8 provided plenty of smooth, quiet power for highway cruising and passing. The optional automatic transmission provided ease of driving. The standard three speed manual combined with the engine’s torque output, required minimum shifting. Tech was a radio and a two zone heater. One heater located under the front seat directing hot air to the rear compartment. All this was topped off with impressive styling that had real presence and superior quality of construction. Unmatched reliabilty was a given.
This Cadillac is a beautiful luxury coach of an automobile. In the mid ’50’s Cadiilac joined the Gizmo Generation both in accouterments and styling.
I am another who had never thought of the Minor and the immediate postwar Cadillac as having much in common, but now I see it.
I love the parallel between auto manufacturers and long-ago empires. Cadillac, in its prime, really was a kind of automotive empire. But like Rome, it was eventually sacked.
I have not seen many early 60 Specials, and that really was a beautiful body. I am fascinated by those early “slim pillar” designs. It showed up on the 1939 Graham coupe and the Lincoln Continental coupe, but the 60 Special is one of the few sedans that went with that look at first.
It is the nature of empires to fall. Nothing, be it a building, a car or a political ideal lasts forever. A great leader achieves something, but his (or her) successors aren’t of the same calibre, and eventually things start to slip. We see this pattern again and again throughout history. Think of the glory days of Egypt – long past. How long did Alexander the great’s Greece last? Or the Roman empire? Spain was a great power once. So was Britain.
Given this, can we expect a division of a manufacturing empire to maintain excellence? Arguably we should not be surprised, but we can be caught off guard when it happens during our lifetime, that a once respected if not revered brand we have some familiarity with becomes something of an also-ran. But if we stop to think, we’ve seen it all before.
(Enough! /Philosopher mode off.)
I never stopped to think how much Cadillac there was in those postwar Morrises. Even as a kid I recognised the styling as being rather American, but never thought of the likely origins. Just enough car to convey four people with a little luggage, but like the Cadillac it has some pleasant little styling details which arguably didn’t need to be there – the ornate hood badge and ‘M’ ornament, the central reflector on the trunk lid. Earlier Minors had a much classier-looking dashboard. As Bernard says, the resemblance is ever clearer in the Oxford, but this Minor makes the point. I saw a lot of these in my childhood, along with the later Aussie Major. Very popular cars, until the Japanese automotive empire came along, with superior quality, and swept the British industry away.
A great post.
The Caddy and the Morrie aren’t just two signifiers of time’s past. They each wear a philosophy on their skin, the American America the beautiful, and big and bold and generous and available to anyone, the English stylish enough, but restrained, and small and economical for the classes who’d need it, clever in engineering, but a bit pinched. The first is also a bit extravagant, beyond the needs of actual motoring, the second, rational and sensible, but without any glamour beyond mere charm. One is wasteful of resources, the other cautious with them.
One is the very peak of an empire, 1947, America as victor over all, the other is an empire at the edge of the abyss, mostly about to be discarded as the financially-broken sceptered isles at the heart could not maintain it.
Each, perhaps, show the seeds of their destruction, the Morris being hidebound by class and austerity, unsuited to churning times in the colonies, the Cadillac’s generosity also foreshadowing the excess that later would come to plague its country’s rule over things.
Both will one day pass into rust, of course. if I was to show these pictures to my 17 y.o., he would shrug and likely say “One is cute old car, and one is fat old car. Can I have some money for my phone, please?”
I’ve commented on CC before that I don’t know if I left hospital as a new born in a Morris Minor or a VW Beetle, but I am obsessed with both.
I’m interested that the Minor is seen as ‘hidebound by class and austerity’, because that is not how it was intended. The Minor was the smallest car of the new for 1948 range from a designer -Issigonis- who was obsessed with small cars. It had the same suspension and unit body as the bigger cars, but in a smaller size for convenience. The Minor was cleverly designed with a unit body, 2 and 4 doors and convertibles all went down the same line. Look how close the A pillar is to the front wheel, the front footwells were quite narrow, but it allowed the front seats to be mounted nearer the front of the car, which together with rear footwells that were lower than the front ones allowed a surprisingly roomy cabin, especially given the size of the car.
Remember in 1948 when the Minor was introduced Morris (or more accurately the Nuffield organisation) was offering a full range of sizes and types. There were the bigger Morris Oxford, longer 6 cylinder Isis, pre war based MG and Wolseley saloons, Rileys, Morris commercials and MG sports cars. Few manufacturers in this era were offering a range as varied in size and types of vehicle.
The manufacturer that was emphasising austerity was English Ford, the company Morris had been copying from since he started. They continued with a 1930s design with separate chassis, cable brakes, sidevalve engine, 3 speed gearbox and beam axles until 1959. William Morris himself didn’t see the need for the Minor, thinking to continue the pre war car like Ford.
By the time the featured Minor was made in 1956 Issigonis was at work designing its front wheel drive replacement. The USSR launched Sputnik. The following year the British government showed they didn’t realise Empire and colonialism were over and there was the Suez crisis. Yes we had an oil crisis in 1957 and Issigonis came up with the Mini, but that’s another story.
My first car was nearly a prewar-style Morris Eight. Much as I liked it, I shudder to imagine what would have happened if Morris had tried to continue that through the fifties. The Minor seemed old-fashioned enough, and needed rebodying by about 1953. Yet it somehow found a place in British hearts that enabled it to live on well past its use-by date in export markets. In this colony its place was largely supplanted by the Major, which in turn bowed out when the 1100 came on stream.
If we’re talking austerity, take a look at a 1953 Standard Eight – yikes! Sliding windows. No door trims. No external boot access. No grille, just a big hole. And yet people bought them. A Minor was a luxury car by comparison.
All good points (and yes, Pete, the Standard 8 is my favourite example of a condescendingly misery-guts car, only outdone by the aforementioned Prefect!)
I suppose it’s all to do with context. I tried out a Minor in ’86 for my first car, as they were just old 2nd-handers then, but by that time, 50 mph cruising, very weak brakes, unsyncroed 1st, etc just felt ancient, and very austere. I later bought a ’66 Falcon, a crude machine, (and also unsyncroed on 1st and weak-braked!) but powerful, comfortable, roomy. Now, the tech in the Falcon was barely different to, say, a ’49 Chev, and so I guess my point is that one empire’s everyman car was generous, the other’s necessarily meaner: and one empire was soon to fall, (with its ruling class still clinging to their own generous-szed Daimlers, et al!) Perhaps also symbolic that the Morrie stayed in production far too long (and perhaps even further, that the brilliant Mini was never developed OR made money, but you’re right, that is another story!
Thanks for the well written & enjoyable piece of journalism.