In the late 1960s, Cadillac went radical with its luxurious Fleetwood Eldorado Coupe. Glen Waddington prowls the city streets in one.
So here I am, making my way about the city in a Baroque Gold 1968 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado. London isn’t as crowded as it might be, but there are people about, all the more so as the light fades and Saturday evening burgeons. The car feels at home here, in that mix of urban grit and gentrification. Its low and lengthy linearity is reflected in the neon glow of bistro windows, and the solidity of its ‘feel the width’ construction finds its counterparts in the Victorian infrastructure of rail bridges and Thames wharves. Of course, this isn’t the environment it was built for, but Interstates and the grand estates of North America’s more exclusive suburbs have moved on: there you won’t find quite so many Caddies amid the Rolls, Mercs and SUVs today. Dean Martin commissioned George Barris to build him a Chevy Nomad-style wagon version; that wouldn’t happen now.
But boy, does it attract attention here, scattering Priuses like a gilded shark in a sea of meek and pallid squid. And it gets yet more esoteric beyond the sheet metal surfacing, radical by American standards within that arresting exterior, moving Cadillac along into a volume-driven expression of luxury from its more (literally) exclusive origins. With that came the shift to front-wheel drive, almost unheard of in Detroit, especially in the world of full-size luxury cars, a configuration that remained through all subsequent generations until the demise of the Eldorado line in 2002.
So, in 1967, Cadillac stood at a crossroads. The same crossroads at which folklore suggests the Delta blues legend Robert Johnson sold his soul in return for fame? Perhaps not, though there’s no doubt a bargain was struck as Cadillac sought greater popularity for its luxury coupe. The first generation had arrived in 1953, as a limited-edition convertible styled by Harley Earl that was, in effect, a production version of the 1952 Eldorado concept car built to celebrate the company’s golden anniversary – hence the name, which had been chosen as the winner of an internal competition. Only 532 were built, and it cost twice as much as the Series 62 on which it was based.
That changed in the subsequent generation of 1954-56, which shared the be-winged bodyshell of the lesser Cadillac De Ville and Series 62, and from 1955 the Seville (hardtop) joined the original convertible, which then carried the sobriquet Biarritz. Annual sales were in the low thousands rather than hundreds. The third generation was more closely related to other GM products from Buick, Oldsmobile and even the new Chevy Bel-Air, but 1957 brought the high-tech handbuilt Eldorado Brougham sedan, with brushed stainless steel roof, power seats, self-seek radio and air suspension. It sold for twice as much as any other Cadillac and was even more expensive than a Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud.
The sharp-edged crispness of its panelwork and the restraint of its detailing give it something of the character of the 1961-69 Lincoln Continental.
So things continued, with changes in taste dictating ever more outrageous Jet Age styling for the coupe and convertible, and the Eldorado Brougham lasting through a single further generation, though built in Italy (rather badly). Chuck Jordan had taken over from Harley Earl, only to be succeeded by Bill Mitchell from 1961, whose styling gradually became a little more restrained. From 1963, with the sixth generation, Eldorado bodies were built by Fleetwood, a coachbuilder with a long history that had become part of the Fisher Body Corporation in 1925, itself bought out by GM in 1929 – during the 1930s, Fleetwood had built bodies only for Cadillac, and all Cadillac series offered Fleetwood bodies as an option. Sharper lines and a lack of tailfins characterised the Fleetwood Eldorado of 1965, available once again only as a convertible, so gone were the Seville and Biarritz suffixes. And then, in 1967, came the eighth generation…
It’s certainly a step on, stylistically. I mean, just look at it! Rather as Aston Martin claimed that the DB9 was so-called because it was more than a single generation on from the DB7, so the ’67 Fleetwood Eldorado looks to have nothing in common with what had gone before. It’s still a vast car, especially by European standards – even today – yet its 221in (5.6m) length and 120in (3m) wheelbase are both down on previous generations, which had run on a wheelbase typically 10in longer.
But far closer to European tastes is the lack of fussiness in the styling. It looks more like a concept car than, say, the contemporary Mercedes 280SE, and the sharp-edged crispness of its panelwork and the restraint of its detailing give it something of the character of the 1961-69 Lincoln Continental. It stands out from its contemporaries; the V-shaped rear screen and blade-like rear wings are especially delectable forms, the whole tail end having been inspired by the GM-X Stiletto concept car.
Two other GM products of that era also stood out: Buick’s Riviera and the Olds Toronado. The Eldorado is related to both, structurally (hard points and perimeter frame) and (in the case of the Oldsmobile) via the drivetrain. Yes, the Toronado donated its front-drive running gear to Cadillac: the three-speed planetary GM Turbo-Hydramatic 425 automatic gearbox is in-line with the longitudinal engine, connected via a chain to a torque convertor, which then drives the front wheels.
Up-front and under that tennis court of a hood was a 7.0-litre V8, uprated to a 7.7 for 1968 (as in the car you see here) and again to a scarcely feasible 8.2 (the largest production-car engine of its day) from 1970, for its final year in production. Within that V8, a ductile-iron crankshaft, cast Armasteel conrods, oversized bearings and elongated piston skirts contribute to longevity and quietness.
In fact, 1968 was something of a golden (sorry) year for the Fleetwood Eldorado, featuring as standard the front disc brakes that had been optional on its launch, as well as an extended bonnet (oops, ‘hood’), the trailing edge of which conceals the windscreen wipers. Inside is a revised dashboard that places the central air-con vents outside the main driver-focused binnacle. As before, and in stark contrast to the glitzy jukebox styles of the 1950s, it’s largely plastic, rectilinear and conservative in comparison with the body. And it seems as though GM was saving a few dollars, as the lower moulding went unchanged, with no attempt to line up the bottom row of minor switchgear with the new upper section.
There’s theatre in the operation of a couple of elements, though, not least the headlamps, revealed as outer sections of the grille are lowered electrically; meanwhile the rear quarterlights retract into the pillar, rather than dropping into the body, disclosing a pillarless cabin. Neat.
Those headlamp covers disappeared altogether in 1969, but in came a ‘rim-blow’ steering wheel, with a rubber horn-ring let into its inner surface, and some of the elegance was lost in the final year’s revisions before the somewhat blander ninth generation arrived in 1971, which bore far greater familial resemblance to its sedan siblings. While independent rear suspension featured for the first time in 1979, a downsizing trend had begun and continued in 1986 before the final – 12th – generation reversed it in 1992. It was the last of a dying breed, seeing out the model line over an elongated ten-year stretch that was laid to rest with another golden anniversary: 50 years of the Eldorado.
Like a certain other place, London is a city that never sleeps. Good job, because this Cadillac is running a cherry bomb exhaust, fitted by a previous owner, so it doesn’t motor with quite the silence it once did. Still, it isn’t unrefined, and the beat of that enormous V8 has its own appeal. Cadillac styled this generation of Fleetwood Eldorado as a ‘personal coupe’, the first time it had done so, yet though the interior is intimate and intended for four, six will fit: the front central armrest can be re-positioned as a backrest. The steering wheel is unusually small in diameter by American standards, the dash feels expansive – most of what you’re looking at ahead is dominated by a huge ribbon-style speedo, and there’s no revcounter – and you’re very much aware of the car’s width. Down in the footwell, the pedals are substantial and accompanied by a third for the parking brake. To hand are climate-control air conditioning and twin coaxial rotary knobs for the cruise control.
Naturally, the transmission selector is column-mounted. Grab ‘Drive’ and a gentle brush of the accelerator unleashes 525lb ft of torque and conquers the inertia of more than two tonnes. Keep the throttle opening light and you’ll jog rather than sprint; push harder and the exhaust is clearly audible yet there’s little other than a distant breathy threshing from the other side of the dash. That small wheel commands surprisingly tight steering, though it’s ultra-light; not far off a Jaguar XJ6 in feel. And there’s little wallow either, the ride bearing comparison with a Rolls Silver Shadow in the way it keeps bumps at bay yet remains just taut enough not to go all a-quiver over undulations. That’s enormously impressive for a car that runs on a leaf-sprung live rear axle, though it’s a tad less refined in the way it transmits some of the suspension’s more vocal complaints when tasked with the roughest surfaces.
By being deliberately more sporting, in its ‘personal coupe’ styling if not its actual handling, the Fleetwood Eldorado sought to expand the usual Cadillac customer base. It certainly attracted younger buyers: Eldorado drivers averaged 48 years of age, the sedans 52. And that expansion was reflected in sales figures. In its first year it found 17,930 homes – three times as many as any previous Eldorado. For ’68 the figure was a record 24,528, when it accounted for 11% of all Cadillacs sold.
Its pretensions to greatness didn’t necessarily translate to Europe, where luxury has traditionally been expressed as engineering advancement or material quality (and often both) rather than glamour and conveniences, but the notion of a Cadillac as a symbol of success was prescient and embedded well before brand values landed on this side of The Pond. Certainly this generation of Eldorado was aimed more squarely at car enthusiasts than any that had gone before, or that followed, and it’s indicative of the regard in which Cadillac was held that the US motoring press wrote with the deference and reverence once reserved by the British for royalty.
‘Ownership is not a symbol of success but success itself. It’s the halo of intangibles that makes the Cadillac especially desirable – the car merely has to avoid tarnishing the halo,’ Car and Driver grovelled in 1970. But that conservative approach clearly pleased the buyers: Cadillac had 70% of the US luxury car market to itself. Car and Driver continued: ‘We tried extremes of society, from Beverly Hills to Watts, and wherever we went the Eldorado was well received while, at times, we were barely tolerated.’
That social visibility is a curious and evolving concept is illustrated sharply when we make our escape from the city by the Limehouse Tunnel. It’s midnight, yet there’s a guy wearing shades while driving his spanking new 911, window down; he drops a couple of ratios and stomps on the throttle, treating all beneath the Thames to a memorable reverberation of flat-six. Meanwhile, the gilded shark glides with grace, and we keep our cherry bomb to ourselves.
Thanks to Nigel Case of Classic Car Club.
1968 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado specifications
Engine 7735cc OHV V8, Carter four-barrel carburettor
Power 375bhp @ 4400rpm
Torque 525lb ft @ 3000rpm
Transmission Three-speed automatic, front-wheel drive
Steering Recirculating ball, variable ratio, power-assisted
Suspension Front: double wishbones, torsion bars, telescopic dampers, anti-roll bar. Rear: live axle, semi-elliptic leaf springs, telescopic dampers, self-levelling
Brakes Discs front, drums rear
Weight 2122kg
Top speed 120mph
0-60mph 8.6sec
