Model Histories
Terms and Technology
Editorials and Commentary
Contact Us
Admin Login
Support Ate Up With Motor
Search Ate Up With Motor
FTC Disclosure Notice
| Mark of Success: Lincoln's Continental Mark Series |
 |
 |
| Written by Aaron Severson |
| Saturday, 12 September 2009 00:00 |
|
This car, another of Lee Iacocca's many product planning brainstorms, was one of Ford's greatest successes in the late sixties and early seventies. A gaudy, overstuffed personal luxury car that critics aptly described as an overgrown Thunderbird, it was nonetheless a hugely profitable exercise and one of the most stylistically influential cars of its era. PHONY MARKSThe first Lincoln Continental was a customized version of Lincoln's Zephyr convertible, built in 1939 for the personal use of Ford president Edsel Ford. It became a limited-production model in 1940. Although the Continental was mechanically undistinguished, its styling was widely acclaimed, and it is now considered a classic. (We remain unmoved by the Continental and consider the facelifted post-1942 models appalling eyesores, but we recognize that we're in the minority on both points.)
There were plans for an all-new postwar Continental, but they fell victim to the company's financial predicament, so the model disappeared after 1948. In the early 1950s, though, Ford decided to try again, launching a new Continental division to produce a single high-end, ultra-luxury model. It was called simply Mark II, suggesting a spiritual continuity with the original "Mark I" Continental. The Mark II was extremely well made and quite tasteful for its era, but it was a commercial failure. Only about 3,000 cars were produced in two model years, and the division lost about $1,000 on each of them. The Continental division was shuttered in July 1956, and the Continental again fell under the auspices of Lincoln-Mercury. The Mark II vanished at the end of the 1957 model year, but Lincoln applied the Continental name to the top series of the gargantuan 1958-1960 Lincolns. Unlike the Mark II, the new Continentals were much the same as lesser Lincoln models, distinguished mostly by trim and a unique reverse-slant roofline with a retractable rear window (later recycled by Mercury for its 1960s Breezeway sedans ). To create a sense of continuity with the entirely unrelated Mark II, Lincoln called the 1958 Continentals "Mark III," the 1959s "Mark IV," and the 1960s "Mark V." These big Continentals sold better than the Mark II (mostly because they were almost 40% cheaper), but they still didn't sell very well, and they were not particularly special. In a 1985 interview with Dave Crippen of the Benson Ford Research Center, stylist L. David Ash summed up the view of many when he dubbed them "phony Marks." In 1961, Lincoln applied the Continental name (but not the "Mark" designation) to all its cars. The new Continentals' crisp styling earned them great critical acclaim, if not runaway sales success, and helped save the venerable Lincoln marque from cancellation.  The basic styling of the 1961 Continental lasted through 1969, with only modest changes. The final sixties Continentals were somewhat bigger than the '61, but shared the same body shell. A KISS ON THE HAND MAY BE QUITE CONTINENTALWhile the post-'61 Lincolns were not the money-losers their predecessors were, they were still not really profitable. Despite sharing some structural commonality with the Ford Thunderbird, which helped to reduce engineering costs, the Continental's sales hovered around break-even level. Even in Lincoln's best years, Cadillac outsold it by at least six to one in this era.
Why? The Continental was a match for a contemporary Cadillac in most objective categories except trunk space and acceleration, and its styling was cleaner and arguably more tasteful. Cadillac had backed off from the excesses of 1959, but it still had a space-age jukebox flair, where the Continental was understated and largely free of gimmicks. If the goal of the Continental was to appeal to wealthy aesthetes, it succeeded, but its lack of ostentation did little to appeal to the masses. As we noted in our article on the 1967-1970 Eldorado, the success of Cadillac hinged on its popularity with working-class and middle-class customers, who would eagerly beg, borrow, or steal to get their hands on one. A buyer prepared to scrimp and scrounge for three or more years to put a symbol of prosperity and achievement in the driveway was not interested in understatement. The whole point of purchasing such a car was to win the approval and the envy of friends, neighbors, and coworkers -- what good was it if nobody noticed? Chrysler had gone too far in the other direction with its early-sixties Imperials, which moved well past ostentatious into the realm of the grotesque, but we suspect that many Cadillac buyers simply found the Continental too bland. Lincoln-Mercury did not help their case by offering a limited selection of models and body styles. The four-door Continental convertible was a novelty in which few buyers were interested. While Cadillac offered an assortment of pillared or pillarless coupes and sedans, sometimes with a choice of different roof styles, Lincoln had only the four-door pillared sedan. It took Lincoln until 1966 to even add a two-door hardtop, consistently the era's most popular body style. Lincoln seemed out of touch with the tastes of the actual luxury car market. THE STRAWBERRY STUDIOIn the early sixties, Ford styling, like that of GM, maintained studios for each division, and a separate Advanced Styling studio. The Advanced studio was nominally responsible for developing new styling concepts for future models, but in practice, Ford management often staged internal competitions between Advanced and the divisional studios to develop the designs for production models. Lee Iacocca described it as the chocolate and vanilla approach; it gave management more options and encouraged a healthy sense of competition among the stylists.
In 1964, Iacocca and styling vice president Gene Bordinat launched what Iacocca dubbed his "strawberry studio," a new team that would compete with both the production stylists and the Advanced studio. They appointed stylist Dave Ash to head the new group, which Ash named the Special Development Studio, with Ken Spencer and Don Kopka as his executive stylists. Iacocca by that time was vice president of Ford Motor Car and Truck Group, riding high on the spectacular success of the Ford Mustang. Iacocca had an excellent sense of his buyers' tastes and priorities, and his insights in this era were usually astute. In the summer of 1965, Iacocca was on a business trip to Canada. Unable to sleep, he had a late-night brainstorm for a new model. He tried calling Gene Bordinat back in Dearborn, but Bordinat was traveling in Europe, so he finally ended up on the phone with Dave Ash. Iacocca said that he'd had an idea, and suggested that Ash combine the spare tire bulge theme of the old Continental with a Rolls-Royce-like grille to create a sort of upscale Thunderbird. Ash told him they'd try it. Iacocca's idea ran contrary to the conventional wisdom of stylists of the time. Stand-up radiator shells like Rols-Royce's were considered archaic, an antiquated throwback to the days of hand cranks and wooden artillery wheels. Ash said later that if he had suggested such a thing without Iacocca's imprimatur, Bordinat would have flatly refused. Nonetheless, Ash liked the concept and he and his team got to work on it. Bordinat was not fond of the project, but he recognized that Iacocca was, and reluctantly acquiesced.  The Mark III's mammoth grille, an elaborate and complex die-casting plated with copper, zinc, and chrome, was not a direct imitation of the Rolls-Royce shell, although it sought to evoke the same feel. Note that it does not have a hood ornament; Dave Ash says one was designed, but concerns about safety legislation kept it from the production model. Lincoln dealers sold the ornament as a paperweight, and some owners probably had it installed on their cars. LANCELOTIacocca's concept initially didn't have a name. Dave Ash recalled that it was originally intended as a personal luxury car to fill the price gap between the Mercury Marquis and the Continental. Ash suggested the name Merlin, a contraction of Mercury-Lincoln that referred to both the figure of Arthurian legend and the highly successful Rolls-Royce aircraft engine of World War 2. By the time the first clay model was ready in mid-October, it was called Lancelot.
Iacocca loved the clay immediately, but Gene Bordinat remained lukewarm, as did Lincoln-Mercury management. L-M general manager Paul Lorenz may have been concerned about blurring the line between Mercury and Lincoln, or he may have simply disliked the look, but either way, he didn't want the car. The division didn't begin to warm to the idea until they learned that Cadillac was about to launch its own personal luxury coupe, the 1967 Eldorado. The Eldorado put paid to the idea of positioning the Lancelot between Mercury and Lincoln. Instead, it was to be a top-of-the-line model, Lincoln's most expensive and prestigious offering.  All 1968-1979 Marks had concealed headlamps, with "Continental" lettering on the left cover. As with other cars of this era, the covers were not very reliable, and were often disabled by owners. (The covers also snap open if the mechanism fails.) Note the bladed fenders of the Mark III, which gave a sense of styling continuity with the Continental sedans. No one was happy with the Lancelot name, but the design received production approval on March 24, 1966. Any reluctance Lincoln-Mercury management may have had was overridden by the enthusiastic endorsement of company chairman Henry Ford II. Ash told Dave Crippen that when Henry saw the clay model, he declared that he wished he could take it home that night. THE THUNDER WITHOUT THE 'BIRDThe tooling budget for the Lancelot was set at about $40 million, a very modest figure; the Mustang had cost around $75 million. For cost reasons, the Lancelot would be mechanically based on the Ford Thunderbird, which was all-new for 1967. The two cars shared cowls, windshields, roof panels, and door glass. The Lancelot was originally intended to use the Thunderbird's doors, as well, but Ash and Bordinat eventually convinced Iacocca to authorize the cost of new exterior door shells.
Although the Lancelot was conceived only as a two-door coupe, product planner Hal Seigel suggested basing it on the longer wheelbase of the new Thunderbird four-door, which allowed both more interior space and a heroically long hood. (Regular readers might recall that Pontiac later used the same strategy to create the long-nosed 1969 Grand Prix.)  The Mark III's mammoth 460 cu. in. (7.5 L) engine was powerful, but it had to contend with 4,900 lb (2,226 kg) of curb weight. It was a little slow off the line, but had strong mid-range power; 0-60 mph (0-97 km/h) took around 9 seconds, but top speed was at least 125 mph (200 km/h). Fuel economy was predictably dire, averaging around 10 mpg (23.5 L/100 km). From 1958 to 1966, both the Thunderbird and the big Lincolns (which were built at the same Wixom, Michigan factory) used unitary construction. For 1967, the Thunderbird reverted to body-on-frame construction. As with contemporary big GM cars, the body shell was a stiff, welded semi-unitized structure, but it was mounted on a separate perimeter frame, isolated from the body with thick rubber mounts. The Lancelot shared the four-door Thunderbird's frame; the only real chassis differences were in suspension tuning. The use of the long-wheelbase frame allowed the designers to give the Lancelot exaggerated long-hood, short-deck proportions, in the mode of the old Mark II. Passenger room was unimpressive for the huge exterior dimensions, but its appointments -- supervised by Damon Wood and Hermann Brunn, son of the famous coachbuilder -- were lavish. Occupants were insulated from the outside world by over 150 lb (68 kg) of sound deadener. The standard upholstery was a very slick tricot knit that Ford designers called "panty cloth" (also used by the Ford LTD), with real leather optional. To create a posh English men's club feel, the cabin made heavy use of wood trim, although in typical American fashion, it was plastic. (For a truly baroque touch, customers had the choice of two different fake wood grains: "English Oak" or "East Indian Rosewood.") Shortly after introduction, there was also a pretentious Cartier dashboard clock, marked with Roman numerals.  While the 1969 Mark III offered an array of fake woodgrain, 1970-71 models, like this one, substituted genuine walnut veneer. Hermann Brunn specified the wrinkles in the leather to give the upholstery a plusher look, which nearly gave Ford's quality control teams -- more accustomed to flat, seamless vinyl -- a fit of apoplexy. The Mark's interior does look notably richer than the contemporary Eldorado, which feels comparatively Spartan. As Iacocca had directed, the Lancelot had a Mark II-style fake spare tire bulge in its decklid, a styling feature Chrysler design chief Elwood Engel (a former Lincoln designer) had recently cribbed for the 1964 Imperial. The pièce de résistance, however, was its ersatz Rolls-Royce grille. This daunting piece of automotive architecture cost Lincoln-Mercury around $200 per car -- 10 times the cost of an ordinary grille -- but it made an undeniable impression. Behind that grille and beneath the prodigious hood was Ford's largest engine, the "385-series" V8 introduced on the Thunderbird in 1968, expanded from the T-Bird's 429 cubic inches (7.0 L) to 460 (7.5 L). This was actually fractionally smaller than the 462 cu. in. (7.6 L) M-E-L engine used by the Continental, but it was a much more modern design, better suited to the emissions controls that U.S. law would shortly require. It was rated at 365 gross horsepower (272 kW). The sheer size of the car caused considerable strife with Lincoln-Mercury engineers. L-M chief engineer Burt Andren was particularly unhappy about its pronounced front overhang, which did unpleasant things to the weight distribution. Andren went to Ash and demanded he reduce the front overhang by four inches (102 mm), which Ash steadfastly refused to do. Eventually, Gene Bordinat went over Andren's head and had him overruled, allowing the design to go forward unmolested.  Like the Continental Mark II, the Mark III featured a simulated Continental spare wheel, intended to evoke the "Continental kit" of the original 1939-1948 cars. Also like the Mark II, the Mark III's spare-wheel bulge is purely cosmetic; the spare is laid flat toward the back of the trunk. THIRD TIME'S THE CHARMAs the Lancelot's development proceeded, its name became a pressing issue. Everyone accepted that "Lancelot" was a placeholder, but no one had yet offered an acceptable alternative. Since the car showed a clear design kinship with the Mark II, someone (possibly Iacocca) suggested reviving the Mark designation. Logically, this would have made it the Mark VI, but no one had been especially fond of the 1958-60 Marks, which had had little connection with their predecessor. The new car was therefore dubbed Continental Mark III. (Some sources attribute the decision to Henry Ford II, which is equally probable.)
Resuscitating the Mark name was an interesting decision. It's a sign of the Mark II's commercial failure that barely a decade after its demise, it was apparently acceptable for Ford executives to publicly criticize it. On the other hand, the failure of the contemporary Cadillac Eldorado Brougham had not moved Cadillac to abandon the Eldorado name, or dissuaded them from applying it to their new style leader. The battle between the Brougham and Mark II had been inconclusive, so the imminent clash between the Mark III and the new front-wheel-drive Eldo represented something of a rematch -- a new front in the ongoing war of corporate egos.  The Mark III is 216.1 inches (5,489 mm) long on a 117.2-inch (2,977 mm) wheelbase, about 9 inches (229 mm) longer overall than a Thunderbird four-door, but some 5 inches (127 mm) shorter than a Continental. The prominent flares around the wheelhouses help to stiffen the body, which was more rigid than the Thunderbird's, despite the larger dimensions. Note the rear quarter windows; as with the contemporary Thunderbird, the rear panes side backward into the sail panels, rather than retracting downward or swinging out. AND SO TO WARIacocca was fond of mid-year introductions, which allowed new models to stand out from the herd. Therefore, the Mark III bowed on April 5, 1968 as an early 1969 model. It arrived about 18 months after the Eldorado, which had already found an eager market.
The Mark III's starting price was $6,585, $20 less than the Eldorado. It included many standard amenities, including power steering, power brakes, and automatic transmission, but not features like air conditioning or a radio. With a full load of options -- as most were equipped -- the price rose to around $9,500, enough to buy two well-equipped Mercury Cougars. It was still somewhat cheaper than the old Mark II, and on an inflation-adjusted basis, it was about 30% less expensive. With its extravagant styling and unexceptional engineering, the Mark III was not the sort of car to appeal to enthusiasts. No one at Ford was concerned. In March 1968, Gene Bordinat told Motor Trend's Robert Irvin, "The buffs may not like it, but people with money will." Even before the car's release, Dave Ash and designer Art Querfeld noted that Ford assembly workers loved the Mark III and were very taken with its styling. It had the same sort of appeal as the Eldorado: it was in no way subtle, but it looked like money. Buyers responded enthusiastically, despite the high prices. The late introduction limited first-season sales to 7,770 (compared to 24,528 1968 Eldorados), but for the Mark's first full-year, the tally rose to 23,088.  The Mark III is low, but with an overall height of 52.9 inches (1,344 mm), not as low as it looks. Dave Ash's team raised the rear deck -- the "upper back panel," in Ford parlance (sometimes called the "Dutchman") -- by about 2 inches (51 mm) compared to the Thunderbird, giving the top the cut-down look of a fifties Carson padded top. The vinyl top was a $136.85 option on 1969 models, but fewer than 100 cars were built without it, and it became standard in 1970. While the Eldorado had done little to increase Cadillac's total sales, the Mark III boosted Lincoln's business significantly. Lincoln sold only 39,134 Continentals in 1968 and 38,290 in 1969, so the Mark III accounted for more than half of Lincoln's total volume. More importantly, it was an exceedingly profitable car. The Mark's 1968-69 sales totaled around $275 million, which enabled Lincoln to recoup the modest tooling and development costs very quickly. The Mark III was also far less costly to build than the Eldorado; Lincoln's profit margin on each car was reportedly around $2,000. Thanks to the Mark, Lincoln was a moneymaker for the first time in many years.  Unlike the 1961-1969 Continental sedans, which used leaf springs in back, the Mark III (and the Thunderbird on which it was based) had a three-link rear suspension with coil springs and a Panhard rod for lateral location. The Continental adopted this system in 1970, along with body-on-frame construction similar to that of the Mark. All Mark IIIs had front disc/rear drum brakes, even with the optional Sure-Track system. Four-wheel discs became standard on the Mark IV in 1976. SIDEBAR: SURE-TRACK  The 1969 Mark III used the same wheelcovers as the Continental sedan, for cost reasons, but Bunkie Knudsen demanded that they be more distinctive. Later Marks got revised wheelcovers with a distinct hexagonal center, like the one seen here, designed by Dave Ash and Art Querfeld. They derived the hexagon shape from the classic Packards of the twenties and thirties; red hexagon wheel centers were a Packard trademark for many years. This car's tires are authentic -- in 1970, all Marks got standard Michelin X radial tires, still rare on American cars of this period. BUNKIE'S MARKIn early 1968, Henry Ford II promoted Ford Motor Company president Arjay Miller to vice chairman, which left Ford in need of a new president. This was a particularly challenging decision for Henry Ford, who was reputedly angling for President Lyndon Johnson to give him an ambassadorship if he was reelected that fall. Although Lee Iacocca clearly desired the presidency of Ford Motor Company, Henry thought Iacocca was too young, and he was somewhat wary of Iacocca's ambition (a conflict that would eventually lead to Iacocca's firing in 1978). Instead, Henry decided to look outside the company, setting his sights on GM executive Semon E. "Bunkie" Knudsen.
Bunkie Knudsen was a second-generation GM man. His father, William "Big Bill" Knudsen had worked for Henry Ford's grandfather in the teens and early twenties, and went on to become the president of General Motors. Bunkie, who joined GM in 1939, became a rising star in the fifties with a very successful career at Pontiac, followed by a stint as general manager of Chevrolet. Knudsen had looked like a strong candidate for the presidency of the corporation, but in the fall of 1967, he was passed over in favor of Ed Cole. Knudsen had not planned on leaving General Motors, but when Ford called to offer him the presidency, he was not inclined to turn him down. Like Lee Iacocca, Bunkie Knudsen was an ambitious, energetic executive with considerable chutzpah and very strong ideas about product development. He and Iacocca clashed almost immediately, and their battle of wills raged throughout Knudsen's tenure, forcing other executives (and sometimes designers and engineers) to choose sides. Many chose Iacocca, sensing that Bunkie would not be with Ford for long. When Knudsen arrived, Styling was considering proposals for a successor to the Continental Mark III, to be called Mark IV. During an unannounced visit to the styling studios in mid-1968, Knudsen took a fancy to a design by Wes Dahlberg of the Advanced Styling studio (actually created by Jim Arnold and Dean Beck), announcing that it would be the next Mark. Gene Bordinat, who hadn't liked Dahlberg's car to begin with, tried to talk Knudsen out of it, but Knudsen remained adamant, blocking all of Bordinat's subsequent attempts to alter the design and reminding Bordinat that he was the president. That may have been Knudsen's prerogative, but it hardly endeared him to either Bordinat or Iacocca, who took a paternal interest in the Mark series. It was also a bold move considering Henry Ford's well-known fondness for the Mark III; few executives would have had the brass to revamp the chairman's favorite car without consulting him. Bordinat continued lobbying for changes, so Knudsen grudgingly allowed him to create an alternative design. Stylist Ron Perry and Steve Sherer of Don DeLaRossa's Corporate Projects Studio subsequently developed a new Mark IV clay, which both DeLaRossa and Bordinat liked much better than the Dahlberg car. Although Knudsen showed no sign of changing his mind, Bordinat took the daring step of ordering DeLaRossa to continue work on Perry and Sherer's design even after Dahlberg's version had been approved for production, apparently hoping that Knudsen would be gone in time to substitute their concept for Dahlberg's. It didn't happen, and Dahlberg's car became the 1972 Mark IV. As Bordinat had predicted, Knudsen's presidency was short. Henry Ford's dreams of an ambassadorial post disappeared after Lyndon Johnson announced he would not run for reelection in 1968. No longer in immediate need of a successor, Henry soon decided that Knudsen was not right for Ford after all. Bunkie was fired in early September 1969, only 19 months after his arrival. After a brief interregnum, Lee Iacocca assumed the presidency in late 1970. Knudsen's Lincoln Mark IV debuted in the fall of 1971 as a 1972 model. It maintained many of the styling cues of the Mark III, although it was noticeably bigger. It continued the Mark III's fake spare-tire hump and ersatz Rolls grille and added a new neo-classical element: round "opera windows" in the sail panels. (They were initially an $81.84 option, although few Marks went without them; they became standard in 1973.)  The Mark IV still used the same 460 cu. in. (7.5 L) engine as the Mark III, although its compression ratio was reduced to allow it to burn regular-grade gasoline, costing it 15-20 horsepower (11-15 kW). Thanks to the adoption of more realistic SAE net ratings, the drop looked far more drastic than it was: the 460 was now rated at only 212 net horsepower (158 kW). The Mark IV was a bit slower than the 1971 Mark III, but the difference was not vast. One now-ubiquitous item introduced on the Mark IV was the moonroof, a sunroof with a glass panel that allowed it to do double duty as a skylight. The idea of Heinz Prechter of American Sunroof Corporation (ASC), it became a very expensive option on the Mark IV in 1973. The Mark and Thunderbird had also offered a steel sunroof since 1969, which remained available as an alternative. The Mark IV was even more popular than the Mark III. It sold nearly 50,000 units in 1972, and nearly 70,000 in 1973. Even in 1975, its worst year, it managed 47,145 units, better than the Mark III in its best year. The Mark usually accounted for nearly half of Lincoln's total sales, and most of its profits.  The Mark IV was bigger than its predecessor: 220.1 inches (5,591 mm) long on a 120.4-inch (3,058 mm) wheelbase. Curb weight was similar, still around 5,000 pounds (2,268 kg). As with the contemporary Cadillac Eldorado, the effort to retain the styling cues of its predecessor with more curvaceous lines made it look rather bloated, although buyers were evidently not dissuaded. By 1974, its base price had soared to over $10,000, thanks mostly to increases in standard equipment. After Knudsen's departure, Gene Bordinat ordered Don DeLaRossa to supervise the design of the Mark IV's replacement, the Mark V, which would be closely based on the 1969 Perry/Sherer proposal. Introduced in 1977, the Mark V's dimensions were much the same as its predecessor's, but it was about 300 lb (136 kg) lighter, thanks in part to a smaller standard engine. The Mark V proved to be the most successful Mark of all, selling around 75,000 units a year during its three-year run -- remarkable considering its high prices. Popular as they were, the two-and-a-half-ton Marks were not compatible with the demands of Corporate Average Fuel Economy requirements, nor were their massive engines suitable for ever-increasing emissions standards. In 1980, Lincoln replaced the Mark V with the downsized, Panther-platform Mark VI. Sales immediately dropped by half and never really recovered. The 1984 Mark VII was a decided improvement over the Mark VI (and its LSC version was the first Continental that could be called sporty with a straight face), but it sold no better. By the time the sleek Mark VIII arrived in 1993, the market for all personal luxury cars was evaporating; the Mark finally died in 1998. While Ford showed Mk 9 and Mark X concept cars in the early 2000s, there has been no move to revive the series. VULGUSThe styling and concept of the Mark III were hugely influential, both at Ford and elsewhere. By the early seventies, the Thunderbird, whose sales had slumped badly, became increasingly Mark-like. So did the Mercury Cougar and later the Ford Torino. Soon, Ford had a host of pseudo-Marks at various price points, as did most of its rivals. It's fair to say that we have the Mark III and Mark IV to thank for the upright grilles, opera windows, and other neoclassical gimmicks that blighted American automotive styling well into the 1980s. Don DeLaRossa, who followed Lee Iacocca to Chrysler in 1981, made no apologies for recycling Mark styling cues as late as the 1990-93 Y-body Chrysler Imperial.
 The Mark V was even bigger -- a whopping 230.3 inches (5,850 mm) overall -- and more expensive than ever, but it had rather anemic performance; its standard 400 cu. in. (6.6 L) engine had only 179 hp (134 kW) to move its nearly 4,800 pounds (2,175 kg) of heft. Nonetheless, it was by far the most popular Mark ever, selling 228,862 units in three model years. We may even hold the Mark III responsible for the later obsession with retro styling. As Dave Ash remarked to Dave Crippen in 1985, prior to the Mark, stylists would have considered such backward-looking designs embarrassingly old-fashioned. The Mark demonstrated that there was a lucrative market for looking backward; it was eerily prescient of the sometimes mawkish nostalgia that gripped American culture a few years later. At the risk of sounding snobbish, we consider the Mark III and its successors to be supremely vulgar. We mean that both in the sense of being tasteless -- frankly, their heavy-handed and self-conscious ostentation makes us want to avert our eyes -- and in the most literal sense. "Vulgus," the word's Latin root, means "common people," and the Mark III definitely had a strong appeal to the man on the street.  This Mark V is a Cartier Edition. Lincoln began offering these "Designer Edition" models in 1976, bearing famous names like Pucci, Givenchy, and Bill Blass. Each had specific paint and trim combinations; the Cartier Edition had this "Light Champagne" scheme, with matching landau top. These packages were quite expensive, costing between $1,800 and $1,945, but they were very successful. The Cartier Edition was the most popular, accounting for about 8,500 in 1978 and nearly 9,500 in 1979. The Mark was perhaps the perfect car for the seventies. The giddy futurism of the fifties and the naive idealism of the sixties had collapsed by then, giving way to a queasy hangover of economic malaise, environmental anxiety, and political scandal. It's little wonder that overstuffed personal luxury cars were so popular in that era. Americans often value symbols of success more than success itself, and tend to see expressions of wealth as the highest of virtues -- a tendency that becomes more pronounced when actual prosperity is hard to come by. The self-indulgent affectation of the Mark and its imitators was a palliative for the disillusionment and disaffection of Watergate, the energy crisis, Vietnam, and inflation. It's not difficult to see the connection between the Mark and the SUV craze of 25 years later. The specific signifiers are different -- brush bars and skid plates rather than opera windows, big rims instead of Continental decklid bulges -- but the overwrought grilles, the needless bulk, the fuel-sucking engines, and the sheer look-at-me grandiosity are much the same. As they say, le plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. # # #
NOTES ON SOURCESOur sources on the development of the Continental Marks III, IV, and V included L. David Ash's 1985 interview with Dave Crippen (David R. Crippen, "The Reminiscences of L. David Ash," 25 January 1985, Automotive Design Oral History Project, The Benson Ford Research Center, http://www.autolife.umd.umich.edu/Design/Ash_interview.htm (transcript), accessed 30 July 2009); the Auto Editors of Consumer Guide, "1972-1976 Lincoln Continental Mark IV" (9 October 2007, HowStuffWorks.com, http://auto.howstuffworks.com/1972-1976-lincoln-continental-mark-iv.htm, accessed 1 August 2009) and Encyclopedia of American Cars: Over 65 Years of Automotive History (Lincolnwood, IL: Publications International, 1996); Automotive Mileposts, "1969-1971 Lincoln Continental Mark III" (no date, Automotive Mileposts, http://automotivemileposts.com/contentsmark3.html, accessed 31 July 2009), "1972-1976 Lincoln Mark IV" (no date, Automotive Mileposts, http://automotivemileposts.com/contentsmark4.html, accessed 1 August 2009), and "1977-1979 Lincoln Mark V" (no date, Automotive Mileposts, http://automotivemileposts.com/contentsmark5.html, accessed 2 August 2009); Jim Farrell, "Don DeLaRossa: Seeing It All," Collectible Automobile, April 2003 (Vol. 19, No. 6), pp. 68-77, and Jim and Cheryl Farrell, "Continental Style: A Contest of Wills: Lincoln's Mark IV," Special Interest Autos #199, February 2004, pp. 44-47; Tim Howley, "A Mark of Distinction: 1969 Lincoln Continental Mark III," Special Interest Autos #58, July-August 1980, reprinted in Terry Ehrich, ed., The Hemmings Book of Lincolns (Hemmings Motor News Collector-Car Books (Bennington, VT: Hemmings Motor News, 2002); and Lee Iacocca, Iacocca: An Autobiography (New York: Bantam Books, 1984).
We also consulted the following period road tests: "Rampant Nostalgia: The new Continental Mark III," Road Test, March 1968; "Continental Mark III: It's Thunderbird size and owes little to the classic Lincolns and Continentals," Car Life, March 1968; Edward Eves, "Lincoln's New Continental Mk. III," Autocar, 15 February 1968; Robert Irvin, "Continental Mark III" and Bill Sanders, "First Driving Report: Continental Mark III," Motor Trend, March 1968; Graham Robson, "Driving the Lincoln Continental Mark III: The latest American status symbol," Autocar, 18 July 1968; Charles Fox, "Viewpoint: Lincon Continental Mark III," Car and Driver, August 1968; "Continental Mark III: Prestige & Luxury? Dream car of many less than perfect," Road Test, April 1970; "King of the Hill: Road testing the Lincoln Continental Mark III and Cadillac Eldorado," Motor Trend, July 1970; John Lamm, "King of the Hill: Eldo-Mark III Revisited," Motor Trend, July 1971; "Distinctive Styling and Boundless Luxury: The Continental Mark IV, A Brand New Ballgame," Car Life, December 1971; and John Lamm, "King of the Hill: Cadillac Eldorado vs. Lincoln Continental Mark IV," Motor Trend, July 1972, all of which are reprinted in R.M. Clarke, ed., Lincoln Cars: Lincoln Continental 1969-76 (Brooklands Road Test Books) (Cobham, Surrey: Brooklands Books Ltd., 1992).
Comments (32)
Please do not post copyrighted content or images you don't own!
User comments do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Ate Up With Motor, and we accept no responsibility for their content. Publication of a comment does not constitute Ate Up With Motor's endorsement of any opinion, product, or service. Please click here to read our Comment Policy. Joomla components by Compojoom
|
I recently saw a Mark V parked on the street, and while those pictures are very well taken, images and numbers alone cannot describe how huge these things are. Great work as usual!