Mercury’s posh Marquis was one of the brand’s longest-lived nameplates, surviving (as the Grand Marquis) through 2011. It started here, with this little-seen top-of-the-line hardtop. Car Life tested the new Marquis in August 1967 and found its comfort and luxury impressive, but they thought it was too soft for its own good.
Car Life began with a philosophical question:
Are consumers demanding ever-softer cars, or are manufacturers creating ever-softer cars for the public to demand? Do consumers demand cars as billowy as Lincoln-Mercury’s Marquis, or did L-M create the Marquis’ cushiony automotive environment with the idea that people would buy once treated to this level of comfort? Snug cocoon, warm garment, inner space capsule, insulator against all that does not cater kindly to creatures within—such is the luxurious Mercury Marquis.
The Marquis was Lincoln-Mercury’s latest attempt to push the Mercury brand upmarket. It was positioned above the Park Lane (and would replace it after 1968), offered alongside the new Mercury Brougham. Lincoln-Mercury would eventually consolidate them into a single series, but in 1967, the Marquis was offered only as a two-door hardtop, while the Brougham was offered only as a four-door hardtop or four-door Breezeway sedan. It started at $3,989, $237 more than a Park Lane hardtop.
Like all full-size Mercury models except the station wagons, the Marquis was 218.5 inches long on a 123-inch wheelbase, making it about 5.5 inches longer than a full-size Ford.
It wasn’t actually any larger inside than the Ford — Consumer Reports rated the big Mercury only average for interior space — but Car Life was impressed:
Largeness inside was translated into terms of spaciousness for passengers and luggage. Though only a 2-door model, the Marquis easily accommodated six passengers, with only moderate complaints on lack of rear seat knee room and rear head room voiced by the longest legged of CL’s testers.
I think the editors were unusually kind on the subject of back seat space. For a car this size, the Mercury two-door hardtop had embarrassingly little room in back: The specification credit it with just 33.3 inches of minimum rear legroom, which was not only a full 5 inches less than a Buick Electra 225, but also about an inch and a half less than a midsize Olds Cutlass Supreme.
With a split bench front seat, a back seat passenger might be able to negotiate adequate legroom on at least one side, but rear seat space was not overly generous in the two-door models. Maybe that was why buyers of the senior Mercury models tended to prefer four-doors, which was fairly unusual at this time. (More than 42 percent of all 1967 new domestic cars were two-door hardtops.)
The principal claim to fame of this initial Marquis was really its split bench seat, which Ford Motor Company called the Twin-Comfort Lounge Seat. By 1967, the full-size buckets-and-console fad was dying out (and Mercury hadn’t had a lot of luck with it anyway). The split bench was a lot more practical, offering separate adjustment and individual armrests while still allowing three-abreast seating in a pinch.
A minor point of confusion about the car in these pictures: The 9G trim code on the warranty plate indicates “Dark Ivy Gold” cloth and vinyl upholstery, but this interior is definitely not Dark Ivy Gold, which was a dark green, and which the brochure says wasn’t available with this exterior color. The cloth upholstery looks more like what Lincoln-Mercury called “Parchment,” which WAS available with the dark green exterior, and which I think would normally have a 9U trim code. This car was a corporate special order, so while I’m pretty sure the interior is original, it might not have been a combination otherwise available on this model. (It’s also possible the warranty plate was just stamped wrong.)
One regrettable loss on the 1967 full-size Mercury was the 1965–1966 cars’ full instrumentation, replaced by a symmetrically arranged fuel gauge and clock on either side of the speedometer. This car has the C6 Select-Shift Merc-O-Matic, which was fitted to the vast majority of 1967 Mercury full-size cars. A 4-speed stick shift was a no-cost option, but only 15 4-speed cars were built.
The standard engine on the Marquis was the Marauder 410 V-8, an FE-series engine that Car Life described as “something of a cross between the Ford family 390- and 428-cu. in. powerplants,” with the 390 bore and the longer stroke of the 428. With a four-barrel Autolite carburetor, this made 330 gross horsepower and 444 lb-ft of torque. The 428, which Mercury called the Super Marauder, was now optional on all full-size Mercury models.
The 410 wasn’t an especially racy engine, and its 2.80 axle ratio didn’t help it get off the line with much enthusiasm, but Car Life found it had strong mid-range performance, and if the driver was inattentive, “the 410 engine would silently seek its [2,800 rpm] torque peak, increasing speed perceptibly to well beyond the posted limit.” Here are some highlights from the acceleration figures:
- 0 to 30 mph: 4.1 sec.
- 0 to 60 mph: 9.4 sec.
- 0 to 100 mph: 23.5 sec.
- Standing ¼ mile: 16.8 sec. at 85.6 mph
Car Life got 14.5 mpg overall, which was really pretty good for a car like this.
One very welcome standard feature on the Marquis was front disc brakes, which were now standard on all the senior Mercury models, including the Colony Park station wagon. Ford’s early front-disc system included a proportioning valve to limit pressure to the rear brakes until the front discs had started to bite, making it much easier to avoid locking the rear wheels. On some early disc/drum cars (including the 1967 Plymouth Fury and the 1967 Firebird), the rear brakes would lock early and abruptly in a panic stop, leaving the driver fighting to keep the car in a straight line.
The Marquis test car did show some tendency to lock its right rear wheel, but its stopping distances in 80 mph panic stops were much better than average, and the brakes had decent endurance. Making front discs standard on these models was an important step: In 1967, only 6.2 percent of new domestic cars had disc brakes, and few model lines had installation rates above 15 percent except for the handful that offered discs as standard equipment. “This top-of-the-line car had top-of-the-line brakes,” Car Life declared.
Since 1965, when the full-size Mercury adopted a perimeter frame, Lincoln-Mercury had been hard at work maximizing the ride isolation of these cars. Car Life felt they might have gone a little too far:
What hath softness wrought? Given smooth, ribbon-laid asphalt or concrete of modern expressways, the Marquis met its design parameters—a soft, shake-free, vibrationless, luxurious ride. Mile after quiet freeway mile flowed past with the only sound from the radio or the living room level conversation of driver and passenger.
On the quiet urban boulevards where 35 mph is excessive speed, the Marquis slipped about its business, silence belying size.
But, take the Marquis out of its expressway-urban environment and place it on an enthusiast’s road, a hidden bit of mountainous terrain, that undulating straight through secluded farmland, the winding secondary that skirts the lake shore. It is in these situations that the soft, kind Marquis loses its cool. The heavy forward weight distribution (57% forward static weight bias), abetted in no small way by the 410 engine, induced an exceptionally high degree of understeer. Each curve, taken at speed, urged the driver to withdraw his accelerator foot. Each roadway irregularity, met by the soft suspension, resulted in a long, slow jounce and an equally long, slow rebound—which was followed by three, sometimes four, oscillations. Taken together, speed, curve and bump, the combination of understeer and oscillation became almost unmanageable.
This was basically a preview of the Ford cars of the ’70s: pillow-soft on very smooth surfaces, queasy when pressed. Obviously, cars like the Marquis weren’t designed for “enthusiast driving” — few big American cars of the time were, and no one other than buff book editors really expected them to be — but the mal de mer on bumpy pavement was harder to take. (I remember getting carsick in cars like this when I was a kid.) Also, even Consumer Reports complained that the steering was vague and imprecise.
Getting back to the editors’ initial question — “Are consumers demanding ever-softer cars, or are manufacturers creating ever-softer cars for the public to demand?” — the answer was of course “a little of both.” In the cheaper price classes, softness and quiet were easy to sell because they were easy to advertise and easy for a salesman to show off. Ford made a big splash proclaiming that the 1965 LTD was “quieter than a Rolls-Royce” because it was audacious for that segment of the market, and because prospective buyers could hear and feel the difference in a brief test drive.
The Marquis was in a higher price class (Car Life noted that its as-equipped price was within about $100 of the Oldsmobile 98, Buick Electra 225, Chrysler 300, and Cadillac Calais), where quietness and an ultra-plush ride were expected. Even if a Marquis or Brougham was a little quieter or a little softer than a Buick (and I’m not sure it was), that wasn’t really a unique selling point, and it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for Mercury’s badge cachet deficit.
So, softness alone didn’t cause customers to beat a track to Lincoln-Mercury dealers’ doors. Sales of the Marquis for 1967 were only 6,510 cars, while the Brougham sold 7,514, split roughly 4 to 3 between the four-door hardtop and the Breezeway sedan. By Detroit standards, that was a flop, and things didn’t get better for 1968: The Brougham was demoted to a Park Lane option package, while sales of the 1968 Marquis fell short of 4,000 units.
For 1969, however, Lincoln-Mercury had a better idea: They ditched the Park Lane and applied the Marquis name to a new senior line that shamelessly pastiched contemporary Lincoln styling. Mercury marketing made no secret of the resemblance, noting proudly, “One look tells you their proud kinship with the Continental Mark III, the most classic of motorcars.” This went over like gangbusters: 1969 sales topped 81,000, more than twice the old Park Lane’s best year. Softness and quiet hadn’t done much to put butts in seats, but a little borrowed prestige did wonders, a formula that would carry Mercury through the 1970s and beyond.
Related Reading
1967 Mercury 410 FE V8 Engine Rebuild – Or How One Thing Leads To Another, Part 1 (by tbm3fan)
1966 Mercury Park Lane Vs. Ford LTD: Did The LTD Make Ford’s Mid-Priced Mercury Obsolete? (by me)
1968 Mercury Park Lane Convertible: Very Rare Ersatz Woodie Ragtop (by me)
Thanks for this tutorial on that confusing period where LM dealers offered Park Lane, Brougham and Marquis. I always liked the 67-68 Mercury a lot, but will freely admit that the 1969-70 car was the one that found that elusive sweet spot Mercury had been seeking for its entire existence.
I don’t think this car has a parchment interior. This looks completely different from the parchment shown in the brochure. I remember Ford’s parchment interior of 1967, and it was an off-white/beige color that used brownish carpet. I think the key here is special order, because this looks like a light ivy gold interior with dark ivy gold inserts on the seat backs and a coordinating cloth that might be from elsewhere in the Mercury/LTD line or even Lincoln.
This car has brown carpet. I go back and forth on whether I think the vinyl bolsters are Light Ivy Gold — maybe, but I didn’t think it was usually that light, and I’m not sure how much of the greenish cast in the photos is a lighting artifact. The cloth inserts don’t look like Light Ivy Gold at all. I think this is the original upholstery, so it does seem like it was a special order combination that wasn’t otherwise offered.
The nomenclature was really strange. In this era, Mercury had often done surprisingly poorly with two-door models (they sold okay in the Monterey trim series, but the pricier ones often seemed DOA, unusual for the late ’60s), so I don’t know why they thought a two-door-hardtop-only series would work. When they consolidated the Marquis and Brougham for 1969, they made the Brougham a Marquis sub-series or trim option (it was technically an option package, but Mercury brochures treated it as a sub-series), which made much more sense and was more in line with what their ostensible rivals were doing.
It’s so odd because the big strength of Ford Division in this era was product planning: They didn’t necessarily have great engineering, performance, or styling, but they were generally very good at knowing how to merchandise their products. Lincoln-Mercury seemed rudderless by comparison, and that was reflected in their sales.
I would love to see this car in person. On both my laptop and my phone, that carpet appears to me to be a dark green that has faded over the past 60 years (to the rope-like color all old carpet of this era seems to want to turn into). The seat belt cases are dark green, as is the steering wheel and steering column.
Those dark and light ivy green/gold interior colors are interesting, because they were not commonly seen in standard sized Fords or Mercurys in 1967 (though both light and dark ivy green was offered in Lincolns). In Fords, the light ivy gold interior was only in a limited number of body styles and trims. A low mile 67 Country Sedan with that color interior is below. Every 67 FoMoCo car I have ever seen with a parchment interior also had a parchment steering wheel, steering column and center hub. Those parts are dark green in this car, just as they are in the Ford wagon picture below.
That seat fabric is not one I have been able to ID – it does not seem to be from a 67 Lincoln or LTD, but was maybe from some other year or a small batch from a proposed trim that was not picked up for production? Whoever put this interior together did a fabulous job, because I think it looks great.
Edit – my picture would not attach for some reason.
$100 in 1967 would be akin to $1000 now, but still not that much of a stretch by new-car standards even with tighter credit and shorter loans in the ’60s. For that money you could have a Calais which was the cheapest Cadillac but still *a Cadillac*, a senior Olds or Buick which everyone knew was the car of people who could afford a Cadillac but not to be seen in one (pastors, bankers, etc) and was well-differentiated from a Delta 88 or LeSabre.
Or…this ultrafancy Mercury that looked all-too-much like a Pontiac Catalina-priced Monterey. No wonder Ford saw the need to split the faces of the ’69 big Mercs between Monterey and the fancier ones.
As an aside, pushing Lincoln to the high-end of the high price field in 1961 saved it, but only exacerbated Fomoco’s problems in the midprice market.
The Calais actually didn’t sell a whole lot better than these senior Mercury models: People who just had to have a Cadillac stretched a bit further for the De Ville, and people who didn’t bought a Ninety-Eight or an Electra 225 instead.
Ford cared more about its British customers than Americans, apparently, as its Consul and Zephyr had front discs standard by 1961.
Such a handsome, understated, classy vehicle. One of the few times that the Mercury wasn’t slathered with unnecessary gingerbread to differentiate it from it’s Ford counterpart. That green is GORGEOUS.
And it’s not white, silver, or black!!
In 1967, The Greatest Generation, the men who fought in the war, were in their mid-40s and entering the maximum earnings phase of their careers. Looking through the eyes of my father (who sat squarely in this generation) I think he would have loved this car, although he’d probably have purchased something similar from Oldsmobile.
Today, you can buy a car that handles decently but still has a smooth ride. That wasn’t really true in the era of this Mercury. Buyers had to make a choice between “handles well, rides hard” or “rides smooth, handles like a sofa”. (Yes, there were a few exceptions if you knew your way through an options sheet, but most people didn’t.)
Sales figures don’t lie. The people of the Greatest Generation loved cars like this.
Not this car, though, judging by the sales figures.
My brother had a 1968 Meteor Montcalm 2 door hardtop. The rear seat room was way too small for the size of the car.
Just looks a very exaggerated Ford Fairlane
If you said it looked like an exaggerated Galaxie or LTD hardtop, you’d be completely correct.
Wouldn’t care for that light, colored interior. Oh it’s a nice car though.
Having so little rear seat legroom is unforgivable in such a large car. Still, I think this ’67 is preferable in many ways to the ’77 featured here the other day. And 14.5 mpg isn’t half bad considering the 410 cu. in. V8 with 330 gross hp.
People today complain about outward visibility in modern cars, but look at the huge blind spots created by those gargantuan C-pillars in this car!
Maybe the lack of rear seat room is unique to the two door and i don’t feel that way in my 4dr. Park Lane. For this year the 2dr. Marquis is not that different from the 2dr. Park Lane. Interior not that different from my 4dr. As for soft ride that is true but as is known mine has been stiffened some but one couldn’t tell. I will say the 410 could run easily at 100 mph and you wouldn’t even know it. I know because I have been up at that speed with an engine that was at 150,000 miles. Can’t wait to place the now rebuilt engine back into the car.
Yours looks very nice, and these make much more sense as a 4-door. I think Aaron did say there is more rear seat legroom compared to the 2-door. With the deep shade in your photo I can’t quite tell what color it is — light green, pale yellow, or beige?
Seafoam green under it’s cover. By the end of the month the 410 will go back in.
Nice, love seafoam green! And I bet you’re looking forward to getting that 410 back in place.
What a beauty ! .
I didn’t remember the ‘Breezway’ sedan was available in 1968 .
IIRC Ford’s base Customers really did want a ‘floatier’ ride back then, in ant case a simple and not to $pendy thing to up grade the tires and tweak the suspension to firm it up a bit .
I used to have many Gear Head buddies, work mates and friends who were die hard full size American car lovers, all through the “gas crisis” of the early 1970’s they still drove nd loved their Land Yachts .
I wish I still knew some as I miss riding in these fine cars, I don’t much like driving them nor working on them but they’re a thing that’s never coming back again =8-( .
The Marquis displayed here is really eye catching .
When this was a new car I was still cutting off the factory mufflers, adding crossovers and long pipes to the rear bumper so I could _HEAR_ that big V-ate working =8-) .
Now as another old man not so much =8-^ .
1967 was kind of a watershed year, all brands, makes and styles .
I know many disliked the silent vacuum door locks but as long as you take care of them they’re wonderful .
All my 50 + year old Mercedes’ have this vacuum system and once sorted it keeps on working and no clatter .
Intermittent wipers in 1967 ?! glorious .
@ 4,880 # this was a real porker but I bet it was nice to tool around town in speedily and silently =8-) .
-Nate
The final Breezeway sedans are hard to spot because they got rid of the overhanging reverse-slant C-pillars, and the rear window only rolls down a couple inches. (I tried to find an example and came up short.) Mercury buyers had actually kept buying the earlier Breezeway despite or because of its odd looks, but once it no longer looked distinctive, it sort of faded away because Ford flow-through ventilation made it mostly obsolete.
Here’s a link to a (rather clumsily scanned) copy of the Mercury’s 1968 sales brochure on the website: oldcarbrochures.com:
https://www.oldcarbrochures.com/static/NA/Mercury/1968%20Mercury/1968%20Mercury%20Full%20Line%20Brochure/index1.html
Here’s a link to a photo of a ’68 Montclair 4-door sedan equipped with the optional Breezeway Ventialtion where the rear window is in the “down” position:
https://www.oldcarbrochures.com/static/NA/Mercury/1968%20Mercury/1968%20Mercury%20Full%20Line%20Brochure/image15.html
https://www.oldcarbrochures.com/static/NA/Mercury/1967%20Mercury/album_001/1967%20Mercury-06.html
I have seen that, I meant I was trying to find an example of an actual Breezeway survivor and came up short.