(first posted 7/16/2013) Chrysler Imperial. Doesn’t it just roll off the tongue? A little too well, for fans of the newer models. As the former owner of a 1964 Crown Coupe, I learned that the curse of an Imperial owner is the constant need to correct people: “It is not a Chrysler Imperial–just an Imperial.” Sort of the Mopar equivalent to the Cadillac owner’s curse of “Don’t slam the trunk lid.” Thinking back on it, is there any high-end car that ever had so much trouble deciding what it wanted to be?
The Chrysler Imperial 80 followed right on the heels of the original 1924 Chrysler 70 as a car with all the goodness of the new Chrysler plus extra size, comfort and luxury. In the classic era, there were few more beautiful cars than the custom-bodied Imperials, but shortly after the Airflow debacle, the Chrysler Imperial morphed into a Buick Roadmaster wannabe (1937-39), and then into an ultraconservative, eight-passenger sedan or limo usually to be driven by a chauffeur.
Through 1948, a Chrysler Imperial was basically a long-wheelbase New Yorker sedan with an extra cushy back seat. People who looked for a bit of glamour in their cars stuck with Cadillacs, Lincoln Continentals and, maybe, the wood-bodied Town & Country. The Imperial had a certain patrician appeal, provided you were a gray-haired financier who wore spats.
When planning the new 1949 models, Chrysler decided to get back into the market aimed at the man (or woman) of means who preferred to drive rather than be driven. Following a handful of 1949 models, the 1950 Chrysler Imperial (sorry, I just love the freedom to keep using this full name) appeared as Chrysler’s first semi-legit Cadillac competitor in years. By 1951, the Imperial lineup, now with a new Firepower Hemi underhood, had been fleshed out to include sedans, coupes, a hardtop and a convertible in addition to the traditional eight-passenger sedan and limo. It was here the Chrysler Imperial would stay while preparing its leap to the big time (including its own Imperial nameplate) with the ambitious 1955 models.
The heart of the Chrysler Imperial (and New Yorker and Saratoga) was the famous Chrysler FirePower V8 engine. Although not the original engine with hemispherical combustion chambers, this was certainly the original Chrysler Hemi (which is a registered trademark of Chrysler). Until then, Chryslers had been powered by durable (but dull) inline flathead engines. The smooth straight eight that powered the New Yorker and the Imperial through 1950 dated back to the early 1930s.
A team of engineers, led by James Zeder (the younger brother of Fred Zeder, a fixture of Chrysler’s engineering department who’d helped develop the first Chrysler, in 1924), began experimenting with different engine configurations during the war. Allpar has an excellent account of the development of the first Chrysler V8 (here) The digest version is that James Zeder, having done his homework, had the data to convince company President K. T. Keller to shake some cobwebs out of stolid old Chrysler by abandoning the straight eight in favor of this modern design. K.T. Keller had his faults, but his respect for a superior product almost always outweighed his conservative approach to change.
The 1951 Chrysler V8 displaced 331 cubic inches (5.4 liters) and, with a 7:1 compression ratio and a two-barrel carburetor, put out 180 horsepower. A 1951 New Yorker was the first stock car since the supercharged Cord of 1936-37 to crack 100 mph on the sand at Daytona Beach. For comparison, the identically sized Cadillac V8 had 20 fewer horses despite its higher compression. In 1952, Cadillac would bump up the power to 190 horses; two years later, Chrysler responded with a boost to 235. The Great American Horsepower Race was on. The same 331 CID Chrysler engine would be massaged to put out 300 ponies in the 1955 C-300 before its displacement was raised to 354 (in 1956), and later to 392 (1957-58). By any measure (aside from manufacturing cost), the Chrysler FirePower was undeniably the best of the first crop of American V8 engines.
Unfortunately, the sparkling innovation of the FirePower failed to progress beyond the engine compartment of the big Chrysler. Until the two-speed Powerflite would come to the rescue very late in the 1953 model year, the 1951-53 Imperial continued to make do with the hoary old Fluid Drive and semi-automatic transmission. Paul Niedermeyer gave a good account of this simple but incomplete step towards automatic shifting in his CC of the 1946 Town & Country (here). When the V8 hit town, the veteran M6 transmission had a torque converter added (in place of the old straight fluid coupling) to give the car a little more ooomph.
Although Chrysler tried to disguise the ancient transmission with a shift quadrant that looked like that of a real automatic, the renamed “Fluid Torque” transmission still needed that “Safety Clutch” pedal and the lift from the accelerator to accomplish its single semi-automatic shift in normal operation. Actually, there are some sources that claim that the Fluid Torque transmission would give the superb Torqueflite automatic a run for its money in acceleration if one could master the technique of manually shifting from Lo to Hi range. It may have been the finest flowering of the semi-automatic at Chrysler, but it was still just a semi-automatic, and as such an unforgivable sin in the Imperial’s price class. The rest of the world had moved on to where even plebian Fords and Chevrolets could be equipped with full automatics.
The rich red rose pictured in a series of print ads for this car was an award-winning variety introduced in 1952 called . . . the Chrysler Imperial.
From a competitive standpoint, the ’53 Imperial was a laggard. By 1953, the FirePower engine, despite dripping with potential, trailed both Lincoln and Cadillac power plants in horsepower. It beat the ancient Packard straight eight by only a mere twenty horsies–and even conservative old Packard offered its home-grown Ultramatic tranny, while Cadillac and Lincoln shared the industry-leading HydraMatic. There would be no advertising comparisons between the Chrysler Imperial and Luxury Cars C, P and L. At least by 1953, the rebodied Imperial was (sarcasm on) a beautiful car (sarcasm off).
The 1953 Chrysler and Imperial would be the last new models before the Virgil Exner styling era at Chrysler. Exner had come to Chrysler’s Advanced Design Studios in 1949 and was put in charge of a new line for 1955, following his creation of several stunning show cars. Despite new exterior sheet metal, the 1953 Chryslers were still based on the ’49-52 structure. Some sources indicate that Exner led this redesign; others at least hint that the cars were largely the work of Henry King, and that Exner did not assume control of production cars until they were well underway. King was an old-timer who had become Chrysler’s lead stylist after Fred Zeder fired Ray Dietrich after Walter Chrysler’s stroke, in 1937. While not (quite) as frumpy as the ’49-52 cars and featuring one piece windshields, the cars were far from stylish. It is interesting that the ’53 Imperial lost the convertible and coupe models, though it appears that the Newport hardtop reappeared at some point after the brochure was produced.
Surely, Exner tried to exert whatever influence he could at his late arrival to their development, but only so much could be done. In the historical record, the development of these cars has been largely ignored, overshadowed by the 1949 models and by the later 1955 and 1957 models. Even Aaron Severson’s fine account of this period of Chrysler history (here) doesn’t really get into these cars–not that there’s all that much to get into.
In truth, the 1953 (and nearly identical 1954) Imperial probably came off as well as any Mopar of that two-year generation, though that’s not saying much. Inside, however, Chrysler did its traditional fine job of making its top car look like a top car. It is unfortunate that Imperials of this era would suffer from the same shortcomings that affected so many of their younger siblings. Despite a longer wheelbase and many special touches, they gave the impression of being very nicely trimmed and slightly better equipped Chrysler New Yorkers, and really nothing more.
The 1953 Chrysler Imperial’s fatal flaw was that it failed in the most critical mission of a proper luxury car: to impress the neighbors. The Imperial did so only if the neighbor was an engineer who saw the wisdom of spending several hundred dollars more for a really nice interior, or a Chrysler die-hard who would never think of sliding his derriere onto the seat of another brand. At the time, the other 97% of the population was wowed by a Cadillac and not much else. Quiet, “old world” elegance and baked-in quality (then, as now) could bring in just so many buyers.
Before and after. Or is it after and before?
The sad story is that the 1953 Chrysler Imperial, with its less-than-attractive styling and lack of an automatic transmission, sold (according to the Imperial Club’s website) 9,018 cars. In 1975–after over 20 years and umpteen bazillion dollars and man-hours expended–the (once again) Chrysler Imperial sold 8,830 units. If ever there was a car that toiled its life away under that Presbyterian concept of predestination, it would be the poor Imperial. Like some of the tragic figures of history and mythology, the Imperial would never permanently break out of the role it settled into during 1951-54. This most obscure of Imperials may not have been a successful luxury car, but it was a very, very nice Chrysler. And shouldn’t that be enough?
It’s funny how things come full circle. Imperial’s problem over its entire life was that most people only saw them as slightly nicer Chryslers. And sadly this was true for many years, especially by the late ’60s. Certainly a fine car, good looking, nicely equipped, and powered by the top engine available, but not exclusive enough to appeal to the average luxury car buyer who could just as easily buy a Cadillac or Lincoln or even Chrysler New Yorker. It’s the same problem that other luxury makes have faced and still face today.
That being said, I’ve always loved Imperials. I’ve liked the styling of every 1955-75, the ’81-’83, and even the ’90-93s. And you can’t beat the name Imperial.
Because it was such a good name, it always seemed like Chrysler was bound and determined to keep an Imperial model, no matter how weak the sales. Unfortunately, Chrysler management just never seemed to have either the funds or enough of a grasp of the luxury market to make it work. They couldn’t pin down the whole concept of understated luxury and style, always seeming to fall back on superior engineering and comfort.
Packard was much better at this sort of thing, and I suspect that much of the Imperial’s meager market share was gleaned from former Packard owners after that once proud company’s untimely demise. If not for the fall of Packard, the Imperial might have seen a much quicker exit from the market.
I have long been intrigued by the idea of what would have happened if Chrysler had bought Packard. Packard’s name was certainly a first-tier luxury car. Then, the Imperial could have become the top Chrysler (like the old days) and the New Yorker could have become the lower priced line. Packard dealers could have maybe gotten DeSoto franchises. It all probably would have come crashing down, but interesting to ponder.
What I’ll never understand was Chrysler discontinuing the Imperial in 1975 and then continuing with the SAME EXACT CAR as the Chrysler New Yorker in 1976. Why not just continue with Imperial? Dumb…
Because they could sell the car as a NYer at a price point where customers would actually buy it. They were basically giving up on convincing customers that Imperial was a real luxury brand that could be priced in Cadillac territory.
It might seem dumb but it worked — they made some standard equipment optional and sales soared!
Me, too. Like right after WWII, when a lot of the Packard old guard were eager to cash out. Probably could have avoided the bathtub Packards, but would the new models have looked as exciting as this…
OTOH, I could definitely see Exner’s ’55 Imperial as a Packard. I’m not sure you would have needed the Imperial as a high-end Chrysler in that case, but it couldn’t hurt – and would have been a stake in the ongoing Buick-vs-Chrysler battle for which was the most senior non-luxury car.
“And you can’t beat the name Imperial.”
+1
The most dramatic automobile name there is, other than “Roadmaster.” I hate to say it, but the Imperial truly is the “Cadillac of Mopars.” Or is the Cadillac the “Imperial of GM?”
I think of the Infiniti Q45 as the “Imperial of US-market Japanese Luxury Cars.” Well-engineered, emphasized performance, a little quirky to look at, a resounding “meh” from the marketplace.
Saw one recently they are Generic Nissan emphasised price is all nothing special about them.
“I’ve always been fascinated by failure.”
– Charlie Brown
Sigh.
If nothing else, this admittedly dull Imperial is an excuse to share this shot of the FirePower billboard on the Jeff Ave. plant. Must have been awesome lit up at night.
Awesome ad.
Here’s the odd thing – even I have never been able to get enthused over the 1953-54 Mopars. However, since writing this, I have been seriously jonesing after this car. It sat for years outside of a bodyshop near here, and last year showed up on CL. When I was in the area, it was still there. Because it was for sale, I did not feel funny about lifting the hood or opening the door. The car has since been sold. Sure, it was far gone, especially chrome and interior. But I really, really like this car.
True, it’s tempting in a blank slate sort of way. Warm up the Hemi, transplant a TorqueFlite, do a subtle clean-up of the exterior…leave off the badges, let ’em wonder! 🙂
I would skip the Torqueflite, as I am intrigued by the Fluid Torque. I came across a discussion board where a guy claimed to have thrashed one of these mercilessly years ago. He claimed that it would blow the doors off any Mopar with a Powerflite and certainly anything with the older Fluid Drive systems. His method was to clutch into Lo, nail the gas, lift for the shift into 2 (directdrive Lo) then at about 40-50 mph clutch into Hi (by which time you are going fast enough that you skip 3rd (underdrive hi) and let the Hemi do its thing, or if you had the gas floored, it would hold in 3rd until about 70. So, with some driver effort and skill, these could be quite rewarding. These things are virtually impossible to tear up, from what I have read. As you can see, I have developed some respect for this unit.
I’m not surprised. And I couldn’t agree more about the lure of having one of these transmissions precisely because they aren’t just another slushbox. And because most folks wouldn’t know or understand how you’re operating it. I’m quite drown to one of he Chrysler Fluid Drive tranny cars for just that reason. Underdrive FTW!
We had a Fluid Torque 53 New Yorker for 15 years, and I loved it. It is essentially a manual tranny with electric shifter. We had the hemi rebuilt in 63 when we decided to bring the car back from Hawaii to Georgia, and requested the tranny also be rebuilt. The shop said there was absolutely no wear in the tranny or clutch, and it performed flawlessly until an encounter with a power pole, in reverse at high speed in 69.
My mother aggravated me by starting from a dead stop on steep inclines in third gear (D). People would stare at the creeping car that sounded like a wide open tugboat, but she never found a hill it couldn’t handle.
When I started driving it in 66, I would floor it in first and it would scream just like the Dodge hemi dragsters on TV. Let up the gas and floor it again (just like clutching) and you would be well over the speed limit in a flash. A wonderful car, solid as a rock.
We had a new 50 Windsor with the i-6 and Presto Matic, but my father hated it because it was so slow. My schoolmate’s dad had a 53 Windsor with the i-6 semi-auto and it was a very quick car. I assume it had the benefit of the torque converter.
“My mother aggravated me by starting from a dead stop on steep inclines in third gear (D). People would stare at the creeping car that sounded like a wide open tugboat, but she never found a hill it couldn’t handle.”
Dr Fine, this reminds me of when I was in high school and one of the guys had a ’50 Buick with Dynaflow. It sounded exactly like your description trying to go up 33rd hill in Portland, OR. Everyone walking home from school in earshot of the Buick knew it was his car on the hill.
Well, you’d be the only guy on the block to have one, that’s for sure.
I actually like it, for the novelty value if nothing else, but this thing must have one of the more clumsily-styled front ends of any car of the period, outside maybe the ’50 Buicks. I have no idea what the designers were after with the bumpers and grille, except maybe to anticipate the adoption of Armco barriers for highway guardrails.
Armco guard rails came out in 1933, so their designer could have switched over to designing bumpers at Chrysler. 🙂
Heh, I spent some time this morning trying to find out when those Armco things had been invented, but came up dry. Thanks.
I was never a fan of these cars…past or present…by “these cars” I mean Broughammobiles or their patrician predecessors. But it’s interesting to see how the Extra Care In Engineering company fared when trying to be Cadillac.
They failed. These things – repeatedly, over three generations – would hit the market like the Titanic hit the iceberg, and leave about as much of a mark.
What this shows, is that the tendency for one’s reach to exceed one’s grasp is not just limited to individuals. It’s common in organizations as well, and is illustrated in several sad stories in the auto biz.
Here, we have a company known for superior engineering – not cutting-edge engineering, but for durable, worked-the-bugs-out engineering – going for car market where the first and most important test is, as noted, impressing the neighbors.
And it didn’t work. Engineering is, at base, a dull focus…design; test, examine, redesign. Styling is pure Id. And impressing others is not, at least immediately, done with durability – it’s done by identifying the trend and riding it. Seeing where the crowd is stampeding and rushing to get out in front, pretending to lead.
Imperial bombed with its bulletproof components. Cadillac succeeded with bubble-tops and chest-high tailfins.
The Cadillacs with their rocket-pods and stabilizer fins, impressed the neighbors. Now…what was the Engineering Company even DOING, trying for THAT market?
The auto world is full of failed companies which didn’t know what they were. Chrysler was the most successful of those, hanging on in some form or another even to today. But American Motors’ death knell was rung with the NEW! IMPROVED! non-Rambler Ambassador of the 1960s. And Mazda almost expired in trying to be Nissan. Studebaker tried to be as generous to its people as GM, without the sales to support it. And the only thing that saved Jeep, in the end, was Kaiser’s purchase of Willys, and his understanding of the futility of continuing to challenge Detroit head-on.
If someone were to start a “Venal Sins” series for Chrysler, this would probably be one of the first modern ones.
I think a lot of Chrysler’s identity crisis can be traced to a single cause, its name being “Airflow.” As Babe Ruth demonstrated, swinging for the bleachers means you’re going to strike out sometimes, too, and that was pretty much the Airflow.
If Walter Chrysler or someone like him had remained in charge, I think Chrysler probably would have shrugged philosophically and kept swinging, but he had a stroke and then died, and without him, Chrysler spent a lot of time going for the bunt. K.T. Keller was a great manufacturing man, but he wasn’t exactly a visionary and he was too much of an autocrat to easily let anyone else be.
Despite looking too much like Plymouths on steroids, I rather like these. Perhaps it’s because I used to ride to the jobsite every morning in a ’53 New Yorker with a bunch of crazy guys from Chicago that had picked one up on the cheap. It was baby blue, and despite being twenty years old, it was utterly solid, a tank of a car in the truest sense.
No rust to be seen, and the Hemi churned out a smooth flow of power, enough to get this thing down the road plenty fast if the mood struck, like getting back to town on a Friday after work.
Sliding inside and sitting on the mohair seats on a chilly morning, listening to the smooth distant burble of the V8 was very comforting at 6:30 AM on a chilly morning. The only downside was knowing that these guys were not taking care of it, and that it would get run down and discarded eventually. But what a dignified way that big New Yorker lived out the final chapter of its life.
Chrysler couldn’t figure out how to sell a glamourous car. Even when it dolled up the interiors, these cars just never had it compared to a Continental or a Cadillac.
Then there was the freaky-deaky years from 57-64 when Imperial actually attempted to create some competition. Exner wanted so badly to do something different from everyone else, he couldn’t or wouldn’t use traditional luxury design language for the Imperial. Imperials of this era don’t look glamourous, they look extraterrestrial. Even with his mock-ups, Exner never honored tradition enough to create a competative luxury car.
But by 1965, Imperial had it’s big chance to shine and didn’t. So back it went into being a fancy New Yorker. Until 1974 when Chrysler decided to try again – just in time for the gas crisis when nothing that seat six sold.
Imperials are good cars, they just don’t have the “it” factor of other premium brands.
When you look to Cadillac for leadership, you’re not going to outdo Cadillac.
And when Imperial tried to pull away from Cadillac, they were left standing alone. Partly, again, because of the herd mentality – when Cadillac went with tailfins, they were new and probably got a mixed reaction. But they had the coat of arms and the crest and V…so it had to be stylish, right?
If Studebaker had done exactly the same styling exercise, it would have been one more case of wasted money and low-low sales. Because the Studebaker emblem signified nothing of significance in many buyers’ minds.
So…Imperial was trying to run in Cadillac’s territory without having the image, the street cred as it were, to do it. A losing game.
Hello from the future. I always thought the ’57 Imperial was pretty awesome and Cadillacs of the late fifties were just tacky. The ’57 Imperial was the only production car with curved windows like every car starting a decade later. The dramatic shapes of the fins and front end and roof were beautifully balanced. The basic body was entirely unique to Imperial, unlike with Cadillac. And it even had a different frame than other Chrysler products. It wasn’t a perimeter frame but had depressions that allowed foot wells in the back seat. The interiors were dramatic as well.
Since everyone else dropped the forward slanting or upright A pillars which Chrysler never used, plus having the curved windows, the same inner structure could be remodeled by Elwood Engel into a sweeping big box shape in 1964 and still be contemporary.
Just noticed something with the quadrant – R is right next to L. No apparent space or N or lockout. Man, how easy it would be to get R when all you want is to downshift after slowing down in traffic. Or, how easy to get R when stopped at a light…light changes…you gun it, guy behind you guns it…Imperial force!
Most of the time, you would shift into D or Hi and just drive. It would start in underdrive Hi (3rd gear) then with a lift of the gas pedal clunk into direct Hi (4th). This was just like all of the M6-equipped cars going back to like 1941. The thing would downshift automatically when slowing for a stop, and also had a full throttle kickdown that worked off a solenoid at the carb. You will notice how little wear there is on that “Safety Clutch” pedal relative to the brake. The only time any shifting is involved is when you are drag racing or maybe pulling a trailer. Even then, downshifting would probably be done at a stop. The fluid coupling AND a torque converter guaranteed that you would never be penalized too badly for being in too high a gear. BTY, there are few gizmo names that crack me up like a “Safety Clutch”. Just what, exactly, is so safe about it?
Just what, exactly, is so safe about it?
De-coupling the engine from the transmission in case of “runaway acceleration”. 😛
Yabbut…then you have a runaway ENGINE, ready to cold-cock pedestrians on the sidewalk with rods, block fragments, engine fluids…a real mess. Better you be made to hurry down the road, out of the crowds…and protect the public by stopping your runaway with the nearest old oak tree.
Just sayin’… (c;
Too bad Chrysler didn’t resurrect the term ‘Safety Clutch’ for the ‘HIll Start Assist’ (HSA, otherwise known as a ‘hill-holder’ clutch) they introduced in 2009 on the Jeep line.
Now I have the Safety Dance song stuck in my head. “We can clutch if we want to, we can leave your friends behind . . . “
“Your friends don’t clutch and if they don’t clutch then they’re no friends of mine…”
SING WITH ME NOW!
Funny!
Oldsmobile tried the safety tack with their semiautomatic Hydra-Matic predecessor as well. The idea there was that reducing the number of times the driver had to manually shift enhanced safety by allowing the driver to concentrate on the road.
The Fluid Torque had a torque converter and a friction clutch; it didn’t have a fluid coupling and a torque converter, which would have been kind of silly. Essentially, they added a stator (actually two stators, if we’re being technical) to the Fluid-Matic’s coupling so that it would multiply torque as well as transmitting it. That gave you a lot better breakaway starting in High than with Fluid-Matic/Prestomatic, which was sluggish off the line.
You are right. I had read a reference guide on the Imperial Club’s website and misunderstood a section of it. Rereading it, it is comparing the torque converter to a fluid coupling, but not in the same car. When the manual made a big deal out of the converter having its own oil supply, that was not in relation to a separate fluid coupling, but to other systems where the fluid coupling shares an oil system with the engine. The booklet is interesting reading.
http://www.imperialclub.com/Repair/Lit/Master/049/cover.htm
I haven’t looked at that, but the Fluid-Matic and Fluid Torque were available concurrently for a while, so I assume all the shop manuals talk about both. My impression was that both transmissions were pretty similar except for the coupling.
I suppose having both would not necessarily be ridiculous. The late four-speed Hydra-Matic (from ’56 on) had two fluid couplings, and it would have been technically possible for GM to have turned one into a converter. That’s actually kind of an interesting idea, although to do that to advantage would have involved revising the internal ratios as well. Then you’d have a close-ratio four-speed automatic with a converter for smooth step-off multiplication, although I suppose GM would have considered it prohibitively expensive.
The combination of the large number of variations Chrysler made and their low level of popularity, both when new and with collectors, guarantees that there is not very much good, detailed info out about these various Fluid Drive transmissions. Yes, the Fluid Matic (which I think was pretty much the “normal” Chrysler/DeSoto setup in 1946-48) remained offered, mostly in lower level cars. There was also the Plymouth HyDrive, which was like the Dodge Fluid Drive (manual transmission with fluid coupling) with a torque converter in place of the standard coupling. I have read that it shared an oil supply with the engine, which made for something like 15 quart oil changes.
That Chrysler put so much engineering effort into this concept shows the almost reactionary state that the company sunk into. Engineering was still under the control of people who had done great things in the 20s. Fred Zeder argued mightily against the FirePower hemi, saying that Chrysler was synonymous with straight engines. It probably took someone of Keller’s credibility and iron will to buck that powerful bloc of old timers. With a weaker president who would have kept to the old ways (and Henry King) Chrysler might have flamed out like Studebaker.
It’s not difficult to see the problem with many once great corporate leaders (guys like Zeder). Because of their prior success, they reached positions where no one was really able to question their decisions, steadfast and poor as they might have become.
It’s probably safe to say that, without the FirePower V8, Chrysler, indeed, would have went the way of Studebaker. One can only imagine the splash the 331 made when introduced in 1951, culminating with the 1955 Chrysler C-300. The ’51 Firepower introduction surely had to be as big an event as the 1949 Oldsmobile 303 OHV Rocket V8 (at least in engineering circles). The Olds and Chrysler V8s were likely only matched by the 1932 Ford Flathead and 1955 Chevy Small Block in terms of domestic V8 engineering prowess.
Chrysler had historically been an engineering company that was able to maintain their sales by attracting those customers who wanted the most innovative, best engineered cars (even if the rest of the car might be crap). Once they lost the ‘Extra Care in Engineering’ corporate focus (the mid-seventies), it would take a super salesman like Iacocca to bring them back from the brink.
Really, the stuff built before 1955 was simply of tremendously high quality, only (with the exception of the FirePower V8) completely dull. I have read that Chrysler products commanded premium resale values back then because they would run almost forever. An Allpar page claims that many of the Fluid Drive units still on the road have never been touched inside. It seems like until the Airflow, the company could almost do no wrong, with a mixture of quality and appeal that few could match. However, after the Airflow (and Walter Chrysler’s 1937 stroke), the appeal factor gradually leaked out of the product. Don’t forget that Chrysler was no. 2 of the Big 3 after WWII. Then, once the product started to get some pizazz in 1955, quality started to slip, then took a horrible tumble with the beautiful 57s. It seems that Chrysler has never been able to put appeal and quality into the same package ever since.
The mechanical aspect of this car is fascinating with the early automatics, I drove a Hydramatic equipped Holden 3speed it was terrible on modern roads it couldnt find gears on roundabouts slushy shifts, I got it checked out nuthin wrong thats what they’re like, so these earlier heath Robinson contraptions are great, lead on.
The “shift quadrant” indicators of the ’51 and ’52 cars (and the ’53’s) were kind of silly in that you had to move the shifter in the normal Fluid Drive type “Y” pattern; reverse up and toward you; away and up for low range (gears 1 and 2) and straight down and away (three and four). I drove a ’53 Dodge with “Gyro Matic” that did have an indicator, but shifting was like a Fluid Drive of yore.
I ran into a guy ca. 1987 in Petaluma, California that had an original but TLC-needed ’51 New Yorker. He explained the whole rapid acceleration technique (as described here) with his stock ’51 331. He informed me that the 1-2 then clutch into high at speed would put the old Mopar into direct fourth and that people’s jaws would drop when this old light green over dark green patinad old car went shooting past them.
In retrospect, I did get to drive a ’50 Desoto Custom Coupe in Ohio, ca. 2001; Fluid Drive and the six is definitely leisurely.
It’s good to have complete gauges, but they look hard to read in an arc around the speedometer.
At least those gauges mostly have #s on them not just “H & L”. I liked it so much better when an oil pressure gauge actually had numbers on it. Of course today all the gauges are designed to stay almost perfectly between H and L unless the crap truly hits the fan, but of course by then its mostly too late and the gauge is no better than an idiot light.
Okay – let’s examine this. I can read a gauge and know the meaning; most of our panel of commentators could.
How many of the general public could, or would know the significance? How many would be bothered to see the oil pressure drop at idle once the engine warmed up? How many would know that 15 psi was okay at idle when warm, but not at freeway speeds?
The idiots lights…are a better solution for the masses. I don’t like them; but they make more sense for most owners. Today, anyway; but the older owner who bought a 1953 Imperial probably knew his way around an engine.
And FWIW…even a gauge isn’t going to prevent an engine from grenading. Unless it’s a very gradual slow leak, or a very-gradual increase in engine temperature…AND unless you’re watching the gauges regularly, something that’s easy to get out of the habit of. When the pressure drops, you’re toast; and at least an idiot light flashes on to get your attention. With a gauge in traffic, you may be preoccupied and not notice anything until you start hearing noises.
Oh I agree but it is nice for those of us who do understand. I was given the keys to a 2002 Jimmy SLT owned by my district. Much to my surprise it had honest to goodness gauges that actually fluctuated with rpms etc. I could watch the oil pressure gauge change PSI as I accelerated or as the transmission dropped from overdrive to 2nd gear on a hill climb. For such an unremarkable vehicle that was a nice touch.
Note the 90’s Fords with oil pressure gauges have idiot gauges, because too many customers brought their cars in thinking something was wrong when the oil pressure was lower at a hot idle than, a cold idle or running down a freeway. They use a standard gauge but a special sender that works the opposite of an idiot light sender. It completes the circuit when there is pressure, then a resistor usually in the flexible circuit board sets the desired reading.
Henry Ford said hed never fit an oil pressure gauge to a car because people would look at them, not understand what goes on and freak out and not buy his cars, seems he was right.
I thought it was because his Model T engine was SPLASH lubricated.
It also had a convection-circulation design – no water pump,
He was in favor of simplicity – all good engineers are – but that can be carried too far.
@JustPassingThru makes an interesting observation:
“Here, we have a company known for superior engineering – not cutting-edge engineering, but for durable, worked-the-bugs-out engineering – going for car market where the first and most important test is, as noted, impressing the neighbors.”
But… it worked so well, for so long, for Mercedes-Benz. Nowadays, a Merc (as we call them in the UK, no FoMoCo divisions here) is too flashy and insubstantial, and has to go head-to-head with BMW and Audi. But solid engineering (plus racing and luxury pedigrees) used to really mean something.
Virgil Exner certainly earned his money making the beautiful swan 55 after the previous ugly ducklings.It looks rather dull and staid compared to the opposition
I keep noticing how many liberties the illustrators took with the dimensions of this car for the promo materials. The car is quite attractive – in the drawings. In the metal, not so much.
To a lesser extent, that’s commonplace in the business.
Anyone who’s seen the brochures of the beautiful 1966 Studebaker, and then seen the car in person…will have blinked a couple of times, surprised they’re really the same car.
Mad-Men puffery, graphic-arts division.
I’m with you, Gem, I’d take a 55-6 before even the big fin cars that followed.
Nice to see another 55/56 fan they are so elegant and graceful
The ’55-’56 Imperial and 300 are hard to beat.
The carpeted wedges for the back seat passenger’s feet remind me of the foot rests in the Cadillac Fleetwood.
I have a soft spot for the early 50’s Mopars, and certainly thought the 53 and 54 cars were nicely styled units. OK – maybe they didn’t quite have the “pizzaz” of a ’53 contemporary GM car, but they certainly weren’t as dowdy as the ’49-’52’s. The imperials were trimmed (inside) with the finest of materials; drawing room luxury surrounded, not to mention, Virgil Exner DID have influence in adding more brilliant colors for the interiors that harmonized well with the facelifted looks of the 1953-54 cars.
Perhaps in hindsight, the 1953-1954 Chryslers should’ve been the cars introduced for 1949, however history has been cruel towards these. These could run circles around their competition; I believe only Lincoln gave these a run for the money performance wise. Cadillacs and Buicks were marshmallows by comparison, especially in ’54 with Cadillac and the Buick (C body) rear overhang.
I didn’t find it until right now, but this road test of a late 53 Imperial (with PowerFlite) would indicate that you are correct in your assessment. The road testers of Speed Age were quite impressed.
http://www.imperialclub.com/Articles/54Speed/index.htm
Good read JP colour me impressed twin leading shoe brakes quite a big deal in the US at the time the whole thing was quite well engineered for the times and the tranny is almost modern, I could like it.
Nice car but hardly an Imperial in the Humber sense with a mass produced body and self drive facilities True luxury meant you hired somone to drive you about, as the owner you sat in custom crafted comfort and didnt touch the controls only a peasant drives themselves. Nice try but like most American “luxury” its aimed at the plebs not the truly wealthy
If you are into human engineering (ergonomics) you will have to agree that the gauges used on NASCAR, and possibly other racers, are the way to go. These indicators combine both an analog indication with an idiot light-when all everything goes south, the entire gauge lights up red.
We were told to watch our gauges at Bondurant, but the critical gauges were in the center of the dash on a 280Z, not exactly where my focus was as I was trying to become the next Jimmy Clark. Were it not for the fact that my Z broke a halfshaft U-joint shortly after the water pump drive belt expired, the engine would have been toast. Sorry Paul, gauges in the center of the dash just don’t cut it.
In fact, the 2014 Corvette is said to have a user-configurable gauge package. You want digital, you got it. You want analog, same deal. Want only a tach, speedo, and idiot lights, just push a button. With electronics the way they are in today’s cars, this is the logical conclusion. My 2012 Impreza has one of the worst gauge packages ever, which only becomes worse at night, when even the analog gauges become totally unreadable. What were they thinking?
Chrysler did that with gauges in the later 70s. My 77 New Yorker had fuel, ammeter and temp gauges with a red LED in each one that would glow when the gauge got into an unhappy area. I always thought it was the perfect solution. I say I like an oil pressure gauge, but I would be lying if I said that I watched it regularly.
Negative Nellies! Or, for the younger set, “Haters gonna hate.”
Love the four aux gauges (plus idiot lights) on my Imp, and love seeing that older Mopars have the same set. I like watching the oil pressure change as things warm up and I like knowing when/if my alternator is toast before getting stranded.
The full gauge set in my Minx is in the centre of the car I’d much prefer them in front of me where I might see them.
British cars like the Mini did that so the dashboard was symmetrical and they could make right hand drive cars cheaply, because they were really cheap. The modern Mini continues the round center thing but it’s got the nav screen in it and other stuff instead. I wonder how many owners know the historical reference for why the thing is there other than to be weird.
When he left the presidency, Chrysler sold President Truman a new 1953 Chrysler New Yorker (they wanted him to take an Imperial but apparently he felt it was a bit too pretentious for him) – possibly for one dollar. Harry Truman’s Excellent Adventure: The True Story of a Great American Road Trip is a book not to be missed by anyone with an interest in the 1953 Chrysler. He and Bess actually drove themselves from Missouri to DC (and on to NYC) in their new Chrysler – without security or staff, the last president to travel this way. Delightful story and the Chrysler is a major character:
http://www.trumanroadtrip.com/page/page/6814760.htm
What a fun story, and a chronicle of far different times. This has nothing to do with Chryslers, but apropos of Harry S., he was famous for his unaccompanied walks. In the mid-50’s, my aunt was the local librarian for this little hole-in-the-wall library in Palm Desert, off of the now renowned El Paseo shopping street. One day, out of the blue, in to the library popped Harry, out for one of his walks while visiting the desert, all on his own. My aunt spent some time chatting with him and showing him the library (just the two of them, mind you, so no pictures, drat!), and although an unreconstructed Republican, she thoroughly enjoyed the encounter, and spoke of it fondly through the years. Imagine that happening today! And the desert area being the “playground” of presidents, a few years later, at a local book signing, my aunt met and chatted with the then former president Dwight D. Eisenhower, again unencumbered by Secret Service and other minions. He inscribed his new book “Mandate for Change” to me on my 17th birthday. I still have it to this day, it is one of my treasures. Fun stuff.
The reconciliation between Presidents Truman and Eisenhower at President Kennedy’s funeral is one of my favorite stories about these gentlemen. Unfortunately it did not lead to a resumption of their friendship that really did exist prior to the 1952 election. I think they both were too stubborn to give up old grievances. I finally visited Gettysburg Farm recently and was somewhat surprised to discover what a modest home Ike and Mamie had for their retirement. Very different times in so many ways. Knowing how much Harry Truman loved books and libraries, I’m sure he enjoyed your aunt’s tour. I would treasure a book personally signed by the General (or by Mr. Truman).
“Chrysler Imperial” has to be one of the most mellifluous automotive names ever. As you note, it rolls off the tongue with an unmatched fluidity and grace. There were always a few of these cars around L.A., although you had to look twice to make sure it was an Imperial and not a New Yorker. As a child back then, it always seemed to me that the only drivers (or passengers, as the case may be, if they were being chauffered) of these cars were little old ladies in net-veiled hats with those dead animal skin furs draped around their necks, on their way to a shopping expedition and afternoon tea at Bullocks Wilshire or I. Magnin. Stodgy and dull as they were, these cars represented substantial old money, on a much different plane than even Roadmasters or Cadillacs (my grandmother always said that only gangsters drove Cadillacs!).
That imposing Imperial eagle hood ornament should be on a crystal base and resting in a glass case in a museum, it must be one of the most elegant sculptural elements to ever grace the hood of an automobile.
> “Chrysler Imperial” has to be one of the most mellifluous automotive names ever
“Lincoln Continental” does it for me. A Lincoln anything-else just doesn’t sound right…
I’ve never quite understood the advantage something like the Fluid Torque had over a plain-ol’ manual transmission, other than the marketing advantage of presenting it as a sorta-kinda-almost automatic. But who would be fooled after driving it?
“I’ve never quite understood the advantage something like the Fluid Torque had over a plain-ol’ manual transmission”
The advantage was that you eliminated 98% (or so claimed Chrysler) of manual shifting. For city driving with lots of stops and starts it worked just like everyone else’s automatic except that you had to lift your foot off the gas for that shift from low to high. The Fluid Torque added a torque converter in place of the fluid coupling, effectively adding a lower gear for more oomph from a standing start. You could sit at a light at idle with your foot on the brake, then step on the gas when it turned green just like the guy with the Hydra Matic.
The problem was that old clutch pedal necessary for forward/reverse shifts (and the occasional shifts between ranges). It was also extremely simple. It was the engineer’s solution to inexpensive shiftless driving. Problem was that the public wanted the salesman’s solution of “See? No clutch pedal!”
A classic case of engineers and bean counters convincing themselves that their way was the preferred one, even though it was painfully obvious that the paying customers had entirely different priorities.
What really hurt Chrysler Corporation was the lack of a true automatic transmission on the Plymouth. By 1953, even the Nash Rambler offered Hydramatic as an option.
The Chrysler semiauto trans was a real glue pot.
“It is not a Chrysler Imperial – just an Imperial.”
“It is not a Dodge Ram – just a Ram.”
“It is not a Hyundai Genesis – just a Genesis.”
(Has this ever worked?)
Chrysler management indeed did decide to take the Chrysler Imperial into the fray of owner-driven luxury with the new Hemi V8 for 1951 in a broadened line. Initially, they were priced parity with the comparable Cadillac 62 and Packard Patrician for 1951-’52, Ironically, for this “newly competitive luxury choice”, they outsold the Patrician both years. For 1953-’54 the Imperial sedan prices jumped into the Cadillac 60 Special $4,200-$4,300 class, Patrician stays in the $3,800-$3,900 range and Imperial sedans outsold them both years again. It was one more ‘canary in the coalmine’ that Packard ignored.
Once the public was accustomed to the “Chrysler Imperial” Make/Model pairing, there was no disassociating them. The only successful case of such a model promotion to a make (of sorts) was Ambassador, first from Nash, then from Rambler. But, then again, it was still (AMC) Ambassador even if they didn’t emphasize it when they were trying so hard to promote it as an affordable luxury car.
Packard was really hurt by the lack of a modern V-8. One wonders how much better Imperial would have done with a true automatic transmission and more up-to-date styling.
“One wonders how much better Imperial would have done with a true automatic transmission and more up-to-date styling.”
Was this answered in 1955? Classic Car Database says there were 7840 Imperial sedans built. And the 55 Packard Patrician managed 9127.
By 1955, Packard was much more competitive, with a heavily restyled body, a new V-8 and a truly innovative suspension system. Packard’s initial problem was that it couldn’t produce them fast enough to meet demand.
Plus, Chrysler Corporation had lost so much ground between 1952 and 1954 that the 1955s had a herculean task ahead of them. It’s telling that the 1955s, as handsome and competitive as they were, didn’t bring the corporation’s market share up to the levels it had enjoyed in 1950 and 1951.
I have a quick question for you JP: Does this car have power steering, or as Chrysler referred to it at its 1951 debut, Hydraguide? The large cylindrical container in the under hood shot above and behind the generator looks to me like a power steering fluid reservoir.
I think you are right, Glenn. I checked the brochure expecting to find that power steering was standard on the Imperial but found that it was still an extra cost option. I cannot imagine that many were built without it.
Another 2 questions on power steering’s debut: Wasn’t the same steering ratio used on manual and power steering, and wasn’t the power steering pump driven off the back of the generator by its armature?
A couple of good questions. I had never paid attention to the pump on these, but it turns out that it was driven off the back of the generator as you say. I think some GM systems were like this too, at least early on.
I do not know on the steering gear ratios. I would expect that the ratio was faster (I know it was by the late 50s) but cannot say on one of the early ones.
Ever read some of the spec’s on these? The standard Custom Imperials (not Crown): Wheelbase = 131″ (same as ’58 Lincoln– L-O-N-G!) Fully automatic 2-speed PowerFlite available in the latter part of the model year. With available power steering and brakes and the expected excellent riding qualities, it would be a very pleasant car to drive. Four-door sedan production was 7,793; but a real find would be the Imperial Newport 2-door hardtop, priced at $4560…$565 more than a Coupe deVille…and only 823 built!
I drove a ’53 Custom Imperial sedan a Chrysler enthusiast had years ago, all the fine qualities you assume that it delivers it truly does. Only the power steering is so over-powered there is no road feel at all. The Newport do appear for sale occasionally, they’re magnificent.
The 2 best tail lites ever:
#1: 1955 Imperial
#2: 1956 DeSoto
Show me one with factory Air Temp air conditioning and I`ll bite.
“… is there any high-end car that ever had so much trouble deciding what it wanted to be?”
That’s a great line—and all too true.
I have owned a 53 Chrysler Imperial for 45 years. I bought it in Olean, NY, from the former mayor, who had a collection of classic cars including an L-29 Cord, and drive it home to SE Michigan with no drama. It is all original (with 67K miles), with the exception of the front seat, front door cards, and front bumper. Here are some observations:
*Mine was a late production model, with a true fully automatic transmission (Powerflite, with 2 speeds). It is slowish off the line, but builds momentum like a freight train.
*Across the line (Plymouth to Imperial), Chrysler had excellent build quality, choice of materials, etc, from the early Postwar years through, I would say, 1954. (Of course, this all changed in 1957). This is reflected in my car, with the exception of the Korean War chrome. The grille is pitted, for example. Thankfully, much of the side trim is stainless, and it shines nicely.
*Dollar for dollar, Chrysler spent more money on interiors than did Ford or GM. The interior is beautiful, with Bedford cord and broadcloth. And, since KT Keller insisted that all Chrysler products allow passengers and driver to wear a hat, enormous inside.
*Agreeing with a post above, the power steering has no feel, and there is a small dead spot in the center. It is almost if the engineers thought: “You want power steering, we will give you power steering. So there”.
*It’s a easy car to drive, despite the size (it has wide white radials). Your passenger in the back has removable wedge-like footrests, and a lap robe cord attached to the front seat back. You waft along in luxury, enjoying the sound of that completely unstressed Hemi.
Currell