There’s not a lot of untold or compelling car stories that we haven’t covered here yet, but the Ford Cardinal is one of them. I’ve been fascinated about Ford developing a genuine VW fighter in the US, with FWD, no less, since I first read about it as a kid. It was objectively superior to the Beetle in just about every way, and was fully ready to roll off the production lines in Kentucky in the summer of 1962. Yet at the very last minute, the plug was pulled.
But the Cardinal did go into production in Germany as the Taunus P4 12M, somewhat reluctantly. The 12M was not the small car Ford of Germany in Cologne had wanted to build, for some good reasons. The details of how that all transpired has eluded me largely; there’s plenty of stories and snippets on the web, but they’re not credible, at least to this cynic. Thanks to a tip from a CC commenter Staxman, I finally found an excellent article in a 1977 SIA (Special Interest Automobiles) by the highly respected historian Karl Ludvigsen. It’s the best one out there, but it too has some omissions. So I have attempted to piece together a comprehensive Cardinal -12M story from the various sources. It turns out to be even more complicated than I might have imagined.
In the mid 50s, import sales in the US rose very strongly, led by the VW Beetle. Like GM and Chrysler, Ford could no longer ignore this inconvenient reality. The issue was exacerbated by the fact that the Big Three’s standard cars were growing rapidly in size and weight throughout the decade. A growing number of Americans, especially women, wanted smaller cars.
In December of 1957, Ford green-lighted the Falcon. As was the case with GM and Chrysler, initially the plans for their compact was a smaller four-cylinder car. But in the end, all three of the new 1960 compacts (Falcon, Corvair, Valiant) ended up considerably larger, with six cylinder engines and interior room to seat six adults. As such, they were really more of a relatively compact alternative to the traditional American car than genuine import fighters.
And that’s exactly how it turned out to be with the Falcon: it was very successful in its first few years, but its sales came totally at the expense of the full-sized Ford. Combined 1960 and 1961 (full size) Ford and Falcon sales were lower in both years than 1959 Ford (full size) sales. The Falcon turned out to be a cannibal. And VW sales were of course unfazed and continued to grow.
That’s with the benefit of hindsight; obviously that was not the intent or expectation in 1957. Meanwhile the Chevy Corvair actually was pulling in conquest sales from import buyers. Although Corvair sales were somewhat lower than the Falcon, they were almost all incremental gains for Chevrolet overall. No wonder Lee Iaccoca hated the Falcon and eagerly eyed the the sporty 1960.5 Monza coupe, which led directly to his Mustang. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
While many of the execs in the Glass House (Ford headquarters) felt confident that they’d found the solution to quash the Beetle, there were others who had serious doubts. A small group in the engineering and research staff was particularly concerned about the ability to compete directly against the VW.
This group, headed by Al Hayes, included a Brit and several ex-pat Germans with extensive experience with smaller cars. They knew the VW well, including its limitations. And they considered the Beetle antiquated and felt that a modern car that was quieter, roomier and more stable would have a good shot at really denting the VW’s success. They received the go ahead to begin some preliminary studies of a vehicle package and powertrain in February of 1959. The project was given the code 1-PF-4 (“1” stood for its class; “PF” was for Powerpak Front, and “4” indicated the number of cylinders)
this and other scans from SIA #41
The initial 1-PF-4 vehicle package looked like this, with a fastback and Avanti-like wrap-around rear window. No indication as to how the trunk was to be accessed. Glass hatchback? That would have been novel.
Front wheel drive was chosen from the start, primarily for space utilization and the stable feeling it imparted to a small car. This was clearly in response to the twitchiness of the rear-engine VW. It wasn’t Ford’s first foray into FWD; in 1958 there was work on a FWD Thunderbird for 1961, and FWD had been considered for the Falcon. But these both used longitudinal engines with a side-mounted transmission, driven via a chain, not unlike the Toronado’s drivetrain. This was considered for 1-PF-4 , but was rejected for being too noisy, among other things.
It was decided to go with an engine sitting in front of the ring and pinion and the transmission behind it. This was new for Ford, but had been used by Borgward, Renault and would be used by the Corvair, in reverse position of course. But placing an inline four cylinder sticking out so far forwards was considered unacceptable at the time; Audi would make it very much so a few years later. So very short engine configurations were explored.
They first built a V4 engine with an extremely narrow 20° angle, like a Lancia. It also had a single cylinder head for both banks and a single OHC.
In June of 1959, a second V4 design joined the project, a 60° V4 with overhead valves. The reason was that this configuration would readily lend itself to a V6 variant. The V4 would need a single balance shaft, but the V6 version would have an ideal cylinder angle for inherent balance.
Another unusual feature was the cooling system for both engines was the lack of an engine radiator fan in the usual sense. There were actually two “radiators”, one in the usual position in front and another on the firewall (readily seen here in this 12M engine room image), which would do double duty as the heater core. When heat was not needed in the passenger compartment, hot air was diverted downward. The heater fan came on automatically as needed depending on the coolant temperature (or manually when heating was desired in the cabin). An unusual solution, but it worked well enough in practice.
The 1-PF-4 received something of a push forward in June of 1959, when it was finally exposed to Ford’s Product Planning Committee, including Robert McNamara. The group was a bit skeptical, but allowed development to proceed.
The front suspension consisted of long parallel wishbones with torsion bars that ran forwards. The suspension was connected to the engine-transaxle, a concept called the “ponypak”. This was conceived with the idea that the mass of the engine and transmission would damp and contain jounces from the road instead of the body itself. The rear axle was a beam on single-leaf springs.
According to the account by Ludvigsen, in the summer of 1959 Ford’s stylists began developing the design for 1-PF-4. This clay from September 1959 presumably reflects the body’s basic final configuration but not its final styling, as that would obviously change.
In a curious coincidence (or not), Ford bought two Saab 93s to use as mules for the 1-PF-4. The Ford V4s (both versions) and its transmission and suspension (front and rear) were adapted to the Saab. Of course Saab would go on to adopt the Ford V4 in 1967 to replace its own two-stroke, but that was still well off in the future. But Ford showed that it was a viable solution.
One day Henry Ford II paid an extremely rare visit to the experimental garage, and was very surprised to see one of the cobbled-up Saabs, which had their headlights moved outwards to make room for the two radiators. Intrigued, he asked to take it home for the weekend, with mixed results. The column shift linkage was balky, and HFII missed a downshift to second, causing the 20° V4 to over-rev and damage a valve, which made it sputter and pop, not unlike a genuine two-stroke Saab. But apparently that did not diminish his interest.
According to Ludvigsen, when he brought it back, he asked what the target production date for this small car program was. The answer was “1965”. “Make it 1963, and you’ve got yourself a program”. This was early in 1960. To build it for the 1963 model year meant it had to be ready to go into production in the summer of 1962, barely two years. But thus was the Cardinal born as a genuine production-oriented program, as a result of a chance encounter by Ford’s Chairman. Such was Detroit in the good old days, especially if your name was on the building.
Meanwhile, over in Germany…
Ford Cologne needed a proper small car to compete with the madly successful VW on its home turf too. The smallest car in its lineup in the 50s was the Taunus P1, which was really a class larger physically than the VW and Renault Dauphine and other cars in that class. It was a conventional RWD car, still utilizing an outdated 1.2 L flathead four from the 1930s.
But clearly Ford (and Opel) had missed the boat with the exploding smaller car class now dominated by the VW. Opel went to work on its Kadett, a pragmatic and very light (1475 lbs) conventional RWD sedan that arrived in 1962, built in a completely new factory (Bochum).
Ford Cologne also went to work on a rather similar-sized car (3.7 M long) as the Kadett. The story gets a bit fuzzy here, as Ludvigsen does not say much about the specifics of that project, code-name NPX-C5, nor include any pictures of it. He only says that Cologne was at this time (late 1959-early 1960) presenting its plans for a class C car. He does say that it had a very innovative inline four (1.0 and 1.2L) with what would have been the first use of a toothed rubber belt to drive its single overhead cam. And he says “The German Ford men were sure they had a winner in their new engine and the rear-drive chassis they’d designed for it”.
These two photos of what are purported to be the clays of the NPX-C5 project clearly show that its styling was directly adopted in Dearborn for the Cardinal. But these are smaller than the Cardinal, and lack the extra front overhang that the FWD Cardinal required.
There is another story circulating on the web that tells a rather different tale about NPX-C5. They are all based on papers in the archives of the German journalist Hans-Peter Thyssen von Bornemisz. It describes the NPX-C5 in rather mangled terms, calling it a two-door limousine about 3.70 meters long, with “its engine in the rear”. He describes having its gas tank and spare tire in the front of the car. And it also says that in the rear, it had a “Starrachse” (solid live rear axle), suspended similarly to the Simca 1300, which was of course a front engine RWD sedan.
And as the pictures of BPX-C5 above show, it was obviously a conventional front engine car, with a radiator grille. There’s no doubt in my mind that somehow “rear wheel drive” became mangled into “rear engine drive”.
But it gets more confusing. This story line also says that “Ford President Lee Iaccoca” came to Germany in February of 1960 to inspect the prototype, “a classic limousine sedan” and did not like it. And that as a result, the Germans turned it into a fastback (above), in an effort to please Iaccoca. Which didn’t please him either, and based on that, Lee killed the NPX-C5 and forced the American 1-PF-4 Cardinal on the Germans.
This story was regurgitated by Jalopnik in 2017, but it has several fatal flaws. The most obvious one is that Iaccoca wasn’t the President of Ford at the time; in fact he only became a VP and General Manager of the (US) Ford Division in November of 1960, and would not have had such unilateral power (or any) over Cologne even then. And major decisions like this were not made in isolation by one executive, unless it was Henry II himself.
Curiously, that fastback clay above clearly is a rear engine car. But it does not show any direct stylistic similarities with the other NPX-5C clays. There’s no way Ford would suddenly have jumped from a front engine to a rear engine car in mid stream; Henry II had as much of a dislike for rear engine cars as his namesake did for inline six cylinder engines.
This story line is just not credible. As to what this fastback clay is supposed to represent, I don’t know. It looks like one of many VW concepts that were being developed during the early 60s, like the one above, but its license plate starts with “K”which is for Cologne. It’s a mystery, and may well stay that way.
Ludvigson’s story is a lot more nuanced and credible: Dearborn was of course very much aware of what Cologne was developing, and Ford product planners recognized that the two projects were rather similar in size and purpose: to compete against the VW. It became all-too obvious to them that one car built in both countries offered potential cost savings. Additionally, key parts for the US version made in Germany offered further cost savings.
Not surprisingly, this set off tensions immediately. At that time, the American I-PF-4 had a projected weight of just under 1600 lbs. Meanwhile, the German NPX-C5 had a target weight of not less than 1700 lbs, in part due to the more complex SOHC engine. This higher target weight was used against them, the lower weight of the 1-PF-4 being given as a key factor in the decision in favor of the American car despite it being considerably larger. The Germans were highly skeptical of that target weight, and with good reason. Sure enough; the final Cardinal prototypes weighed a good 1850lbs, and the production version was right at 1900 lbs. This was almost 300 lbs more than the Beetle, and would become a negative factor in the final production Taunus 12M.
But the tide had clearly moved in favor of the American 1-PF-4, and the Germans would just have to suck it up. They were informed of this in the Cologne boardroom in March of 1960. And they were not happy; the Dearborn cuckoo had pushed out their beloved little egg and replaced it with its own bigger one, and they had no choice but to nurture it.
The Germans were now tasked to share in the Cardinal’s development, although it was decidedly bigger than what they would have preferred. The 12M was only marginally smaller than the existing RWD 17M (here with HFII), which was new for 1961 and was a big hit for Ford Cologne. In terms of interior space, it was even closer. And as they suspected, it would end up being a lot heavier than Dearborn had claimed.
Now that the 1-PF-4 project was approved for further development, it was taken away from the original product study vehicles department and assigned to the light vehicle department, and given the name Cardinal, named after the red bird that feeds on…bugs and beetles. Two versions were developed: Cardinal A for the American market, with a 1.5L version of the V4 and a three-speed transmission, with US-standard threads and fasteners. Cardinal B for Europe had a one liter engine, four speed transmission and metric threads and fasteners. There were also minor differences in badging, trim, and interior details.
Although Ludvigsen implies that the Cardinal (bottom) was styled from scratch in the US, its actual styling is all-too obviously just a direct development of the German NPX-C5 (top). What’s curious is that it shows absolutely no family resemblance to either current or future American or German Fords. The front end alone is unlike anything Ford had or would do. It looks more like a possible subcompact Rambler. The additional front overhang required by the FWD drive train is quite noticeable compared to the RWD NPX-C5.
It certainly had no kinship with the oft-praised 1960 Taunus 17M P3, styled by Uwe Bahnsen. Its original and distinctive front end was eagerly copied in Dearborn for two of its most celebrated cars, the 1961 Continental and Thunderbird.
No wonder this widely used artist’s conception of what the Cardinal would look like was heavily based on the 17M, and by extension the Thunderbird and Continental. Frankly, it should have looked more like this. Much better.
This rendering’s front end styling appears to be based in part on the upcoming Ford UK Corsair as well as many elements of the 17M.
The actual result is a bit too similar to the 1961 Ramble American, which also was developed with the goal of using as few body pressings as possible. The Cardinal was not very attractive; it’s a rather dowdy design. The front end is ok, but the rest of it is certainly not an inspired one in any regard. And its track was clearly too narrow for its body.
From some angles, like in profile, it looks pretty bad. It’s a bit hard to see this being coming out of Ford’s Dearborn studios for 1963. It looks too much like something from East Germany or Kenosha at the time.
The view from the rear isn’t much better. But in the big picture of the times, its styling wasn’t exactly a serious deficit either. European styling was moving away from American design influences, and this is something of a transition.
The Cardinal was planned to be sold for $1336, wholesale and delivered, which was directly competitive with the Beetle. Ford projected sales of 150,000 annually. These, and the projected cost for tooling the US version ($45 million) were the numbers that were used by the executive committee, including HFII and McNamara, that approved the Cardinal for the 1963 model year.
At this point, the Cardinal was handed off to the engineers to make it production ready. The biggest changes were with its suspension. The single leaf rear springs were changed to multi-leafs, as no supplier could make them in Germany at the time. And the front torsion bars were replaced by a transverse leaf spring, which also acted as the upper wishbones, a common solution around this time in Europe. It and the steering gear were still mounted to the transaxle, in the ponypak configuration.
But this turned out to be problematic once prototypes hit the road in late fall of 1960. The V4 engine set up bad vibrations in the body, which was not as rigid as the Saab’s body used for the mules. The initial fix was softer mounts for the ponypak. But this caused even worse problems, like extreme lurching of the whole unit in the transition from acceleration to braking, and sever shudder at very low speeds. This was a serious problem, and there wasn’t much time left to fix it as orders for tooling were being let both in the US and Germany.
The advanced engineering department, which had first conceived the Cardinal, were asked to pitch in. The solution was to mount the front transverse leaf spring to the body instead of the drivetrain, and the steering as well, which did necessitate moving to a conventional worm-and-gear unit from the rack and pinion type.
By late April, 1960, a modified Cardinal was sent on an extend road trip with a Renault Dauphine and a VW, and it acquitted itself fairly well; the lurching was eliminated and the Cardinal was now deemed a reasonably pleasant driver. But the 8″ front drum brakes were found wanting, and thus upgraded to 9″ units.
That’s not to say it was perfect; far from it. The challenges of front wheel drive with an inherently unbalanced V4 were considerable. The production 12M struggled with resulting issues and a somewhat sullied reputation for its whole production life.
Taunus 12M (left), Cardinal (right) with their daddies
There were other problems too, especially in Germany. Supposedly suppliers weren’t eager to commit to key components, but this might have just been sabatoge by the German Ford execs who resented having the Cardinal shoved down their throats. In the end, some key parts had to be supplied from the US and shipped to Germany. Now that wasn’t going to make it cheaper.
A key aspect of the US Cardinal at some point was the decision to not build its drivetrain in the US, on the assumption that building its engine and transaxle in Germany would be significantly cheaper due to lower labor costs and the favorable dollar-mark exchange rate. Whether this decision was made from the get-go or later in the program is not spelled out anywhere. I suspect strongly it was integral to the decision to combine both programs. A new factory was added at Cologne to build the V4, transaxle and other key components for both versions.
In the US, Ford designated its Louisville, Ky. plant, which had been building the ill-fated Edsel, as its assembly plant. A full line was dedicated to the Cardinal, capable of assembling up to 180k units per year.
There was a lot of press build-up and anticipation of the Cardinal in the US. Small car lovers were going to finally get a proper domestic small car, with FWD no less. As this press clipping makes (un)clear: “The car may be built in this country or abroad”. Really? Some press reports like this one suggest that the Cardinal was to be merely assembled from CKD kits shipped from Germany. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, as the Louisville plant had stamping facilities, the expected volume was quite high. In his article, Ludvigsen says that the US body stamping dies were ordered and delivered, and stored for some time after the Cardinal was cancelled, part of a plan to send them to Brazil which never materialized. First year sales were projected at 100k. units.
At this point the Cardinal had its production name changed to Redwing V4, as Ford had no desire to confuse it with the Catholic cardinals.
A new product planner, Jack Eckhold, was now assigned to the Cardinal. He initiated an in-depth audit of the program including its costs, especially against the Falcon’s, which were by then well known. He discovered that the project had not been handled in the customary manner, and that records were not complete or up to date. And his audit showed that the Cardinal would actually cost more to build than the Falcon!
With this information, Eckhold prepared a report to Lee Iaccoca, who was now VP and General Manager of the (US) Ford Division. His report also suggested that in some 15 or more years in the future (1977), a car of the Cardinal’s size would be a virtual necessity (The Big Three were already aware that the country was heading towards a growing imbalance between domestic oil production and consumption which partially explains the 1971 Pinto and Vega and why GM initiated a downsizing program before the 1973 energy crisis hit). But Eckhold cast doubt on the need for a subcompact for the immediate future (5-6) years. Given that the sales of the Falcon swooned during the mid 60s but import sales roared ahead, and that the Pinto was initiated in 1968 or so, he pretty much nailed it. And of course Ford would eventually build the FWD Fiesta in 1976.
Eckhold’s report had a predictable effect. On April 10, 1962, Henry Ford II announced that the Cardinal/Redwing V4 was cancelled in the US (after having spent $36 million on its development), but that it would be built in Germany for the European market. There is no doubt that this decision was based on Lee Iaccoca’s very strong recommendation. The Cardinal was not his type of car at all; he disdained the unexciting Falcon and he saw the Cardinal as nothing more than an even smaller version of it.
Iacocca was done with dull little boring sedans; he saw a sportier and more dynamic future for Ford. After a series of fourteen management dinners at the Fairlane Inn, the theme “The Lively Ones” congealed to implement his vision. It started a bit modestly in 1962 with the Fairlane and its new thin-wall V8, which soon found its way into the Falcon and the Cobra in ever-more potent versions.
Lee wanted a genuine sports car too. He asked his guys to show him ideas for one. So the dowdy little Cardinal’s V4 and transaxle were repurposed in a mid-engine configuration for the 1962 Mustang I. And Lee liked what his creative engineers had drawn and cobbled up as a concept, and had it built by Troutman-Barnes in California. And the two of them made numerous appearances all over the country, in Lee’s efforts to reposition Ford’s image as a dynamic, sporty brand, and not one that was known mainly for dull sedans and wagons. And Falcons.
By mid-1963, the new direction was in full display with the new fastback roofs on the Galaxie and Falcon Sprint.
you stand over there with that thing
And of course the 1965 Mustang was its pinnacle. Iaccoca had finally put his stamp on Ford, and it would soon start to pay off with the Mustang, which grossly exceeded Lee’s most optimistic projections. And the dull Falcon was soon a distant bad memory, along with its still-born baby brother the Cardinal.
(the following color images from autobild.de)
Meanwhile, back in Germany, the Taunus P4 12M premiered on September 15, 1962. It was not what the Germans would have done to compete against the VW Beetle and the new Opel Kadett. But you fight the war with what you have, and the 12M did have some good qualities.
Most of all, size and weight, for better or for worse. The 12M had a long 99.5″ wheelbase, was a whopping 167.2″ (4.25M) long, and 62.8″ (1.59M) wide. And it weighed 1863 lbs (860 kg). That was big for its class.
Opel took a decidedly different route with its RWD Kadett, which had a 91.5″ (2.32M) wheelbase, was 154″ (3.93M) long, and a skinny 58″ (1.47M) wide. And it was the flyweight of the group, weighing 1475 lbs (670kg), 400lbs less than the 12M. Yet its interior dimensions were essentially the same as the 12M’s, except for a bit of width. And it was by far the liveliest of the bunch, with its rev-happy 40 hp 1.0L inline four.
The 12M’s weight and soft springing gave it a relatively good ride, but the trade off was sluggish acceleration no better than the VW 1200, despite having a 6 hp advantage (40 vs 34 DIN hp). 0-60 came in 22.4 seconds; top speed was 78 mph; getting there was another matter. Fuel economy was competitive despite the weight, advertised at 7.5 L/100km (31 mpg). That’s about the same as the VW 1200, but considerably less economical than the Kadett, which got 37 mpg (6.4L).
Handling was not the 12M’s strong suit. Understeer predominated, and it had a tendency to lift its inside rear wheel in tight curves. There was a lot of criticism for that, as folks thought it could easily lead to tip-over (it didn’t). In reality, the FWD 12M was just showing what would soon be a common feature of small FWD cars in fast corners, on three wheels. But Ford Cologne had to make substantial revisions in its suspension tuning for 1964 to counter the growing backlash.
The stiffly-sprung Kadett was a sports car in comparison, and even the Beetle was faster around the cones and felt sportier in the corners. The 12M’s steering was also criticized for being rather dull and on the heavy side, especially compared to its competitors, both of which had very light and direct steering.
These were limitations of the 12M’s FWD, a technology that had not yet been mastered by all, especially the newcomers. Companies like Saab, which had been at it since 1949, had mostly solved the issues that hamstrung the 12M to one degree or another.
The V4’s characteristics reinforced that image. Thanks to its balance shaft and the fine tuning of its soft mounts, vibration wasn’t really an issue. But it sounded odd, although noise stayed fairly restrained at higher rpm, unlike the typical inline four. But it had a rather hollow sound, and certainly didn’t get the juices going, especially in the rather week-chested 1.2 L version. The 1.5L and 1.5L TS that came along later solved that problem, but nothing could change the v4’s inherent sound and feel.
The 12M’s American DNA was everywhere on display, especially so in its interior. Unlike the Beetle and Kadett, it had a full bench seat, presumably to suggest that a third passenger could take advantage of its greater width and its essentially flat floor, which was certainly a boon and one of the few direct advantages of its FWD.
The dash was basic and rather typical of the times, when American styling themes were still widely adopted in Europe too. But not for much longer.
Instrumentation was spartan.
The four speed fully-synchronized gearbox was column shifted, but apparently not to any great disadvantage. But this also enhanced the non-sporty image of the 12M.
The 12m’s trunk was spacious; vast, compared to the VW, which did have a second storage compartment behind its rear seat. But the Kadett’s trunk was almost as big, thanks to being able to stow its little 12″ spare more efficiently.
The 12M’s heater, thanks to doing double duty as one of its radiators, was certainly quite effective. And the lack of an engine-driven fan kept noise levels low at speed.
Ford was eager to prove the durability of its new 12M, and sent one to the Mirimas oval near Marseilles to set a world endurance record, with a goal of at least 300,000km, on the same engine. They were doing well until at 284,275 km driver Michele Gramond briefly dozed off. He found himself awake in a rolling 12M, which fortunately landed on its wheels.
According to the governing body rules, he was allowed to push it back to the service area, where mechanics worked for eleven hours to make it roadworthy, such as it was. The cobbled-up 12M went on to cover 358.273,8 kilometers, with an average speed of 106 km/h (66 mph). An impressive accomplishment.
The 12M line soon was expanded, with a four door sedan. But these were relatively rare. Unlike France, Germany favored two-door sedans and wagons, except in the larger classes.
A two-door station wagon was also added to the line.
And a coupe too, with a roof that was borrowed from the Falcon Sprint. And power increases soon appeared; a 50hp 1.5 L version followed by a 65 hp TS 1.5. The TS gave the 12M some credible performance, including a win in Germany’s Rally Championship, but the intrinsic qualities of the 12M were always going to be an impediment to it becoming or being seen as a genuine sporty car.
The P4 12M was a solid enough seller, with a total of 680k sold over four model years (1963-1966). That was nowhere in the VW’s league, but about the same as the Kadett A. The 12M presented a very distinct alternative to the VW and Kadett as well as the other cars in its class. It offered a larger, heavier, more “American” alternative, along with its FWD. A rather odd combination in Europe at the time.
The P4 was replaced by the P6 in 1966, which was sold in 12M and 15M versions (12M shown). It was of course the same basic car under its stretched and restyled skin, which made it look decidedly more Falconesque. New engine and trim variants were offered, but the P6 was somewhat of a laggard, underperforming the German market during the second half of the go-go 60s. It looked increasingly out of tune with the tastes of the times; it was just not what the market was looking for. As such, it suffered a similar decline that the Falcon was experiencing in the US at the time.
For 1970, the FWD Taunus P6 was replaced by the conventional RWD Taunus TC, which was essentially shared with the British Ford Cortina MKIII (TC=Taunus Cortina). This new pan-European car was developed under the auspices of then-CEO Semon “Bunky” Knudsen, and is often referred to as the Knudsen-Taunus because of its Bunky beak, a feature seen on way too many of the cars designed under his short tenure at Ford.
The V4 engine was consigned to the Transit van, as well as being sold to Saab and Matra in France. The new SOHC inline “Pinto” four was now under the hood, along with 2.0 and 2.3 L versions of the 60° V6.
Ford Cologne did eventually get back to the size and concept of its original RWD NPX-C5 baby, in the form of the 1968 Escort, co-developed with Ford UK.
And in 1976, Ford re-embraced FWD with its even smaller Fiesta, which was also sold in the US as an import. No, Ford’s experience with the 12M didn’t really help much, as by now the modern transverse-engine FWD format had been well developed by others.
The Cardinal’s story is one of the more unusual ones. Who would have thought that an American FWD subcompact designed in the late ’50s would become a major player in Europe? It wasn’t exactly brilliant or beautiful, but it earned its keep and some grudging respect. And its American-designed V4 engine spawned a long line of Cologne V6s, which were built until 2010 and in its final 4.0 L form powered millions of American Ford Explorers and Mustangs. Who would have guessed that in 1959?
Thanks for the full story.
So Ford of Germany’s NPX-C5 can be best described as an early Ford Escort (of dimensions roughly akin to the BMC 1100/1300 and Opel Kadett A) with a similar-sized 1.0-1.2-litre engine to the Ford Kent unit, albeit notably featuring OHC and a toothed rubber belt?
Would have been interesting seeing both NPX-C5 and Cardinal/Redwing projects separated as models specific to the West German and US markets. Also would have been worthwhile seeing Ford adopt the 20-degree V4 for the US Cardinal/Redwing (perhaps even a V6 version for an upscaled Cardinal/Redwing-based car) without completely butterflying away the Ford Cologne V6.
Great piece, an early Christmas present !
I’ve always been fascinated by the American Ford that never was – and the similarity of the cabin/greenhouse area to the Mk 1 Cortina, which managed to look so much prettier.
During the summer of 1962, my mother, for some reason, got me a subscription to Mechanix Illustrated, which this 12 year old absolutely devoured. I remember that September issue vividly, as I was really turned on to the concept of that car. And kept my thoughts to myself, as Ford was the enemy in our house, and their products were only bought by fools, losers, and deadbeats who couldn’t afford to finance a Chevrolet.
And then, nothing. It was about ten years before I found out what happened to the Cardinal. Thanks for the rest of the story.
I too read about this in the magazines and wondered what had happened. I had recalled it happening earlier, with the Falcon talking its place but my memories are clouded. When I began reading this story I thought that I really would have liked to have been able to buy this car. The concept was right in my wheelhouse. But as I read on, it became less and less desirable. Interesting, but in a bad “why’d they do that?” way.
The way things worked out with the Fairlane and Mustang obviously was good for Ford. But I can’t help but think of where that ‘Lively Ones’ theme could have gone with the Cardinal instead of the Mustang. I’m thinking of the New Class BMWs that generated the 2002.
I’ve had the same dreams about the 2nd gen Corvair and regret that the US never really developed a sporty European-type small car. Something in the Cortina/Capri realm. Something that would be robust enough to not only keep the Beetle in check but to prevent Datsun from gaining a foothold and ultimately delayed Toyota’s attempts at the market.
In short, the musclecars are fine, but I wish the ponycars had gone off in a different direction instead of following the same path.
IMO the solution would’ve been to apply the styling cues then being developed for the Mustang to the Cardinal, minus the long hood and overly thick C pillars but including bucket seats and a (rod-actuated) four on the floor.
The result would’ve been an attractive but rational car that would’ve appealed to an entirely different group of car enthusiasts than a big-block Fairlane.
Fusion grill on one iteration and Plymouth and later Lexus frill on another.
frill = grill
Very interesting article about a car I knew of but knew nothing about if that makes sense, This is one of these that I need to read a couple of times to fully wrap me head around it all – second reading to commence this evening!
One note so far though – In regard to NPX-5C the linked article translates to having the tank and spare tire at the rear of the front compartment, not at the rear of the car. (Hintem im Bug – Bug is the front.) which obviously would work correctly for a rear engined car. There are other things that don’t really mesh but that one perhaps isn’t wrong.
Good catch! I originally found only a Czech version of this and used Google translate, which did not provide that detail. When I ran into the German version later, I just scanned it and din’t catch “Bug”.
I still don’t know how to make sense of this guys reminiscences (as well as that one picture of a rear engine fastback) when the other pictures clearly show a conventional sedan.
Maybe they were working on a parallel program?
I tried hard to reconcile this discrepancy in the story, but I can’t.
Parallel programs perhaps make sense or one was cancelled in favor of the other. That VW fastback looking mock-up obviously is rear engined but the sedan definitely looks front engined what with the grille and cowl vents (having both) etc. and the stick rear axle point really emphasizes it too. The grille only makes sense for front mounted radiators with a rear engine but from a cost perspective makes no sense.
For some reason the VW looking mockup looks more modern than early 60’s to me. I’d have to look at other old K license plates from Ford promos etc to try to figure out where in the sequence that one appears to be to be sure but…
I agree with you about the fastback looking a bit too modern for 1959 or so. Here’s a VW concept from the early 60s that looks very similar.
The fact that Luwigsen called the NPX-C5 a rear-wheel drive sedan, and the pictures corroborate that, is good enough for me. If it had been rear-engine, he would definitely have mentioned that.
There’s too many inconsistencies in the rear-engine idea. And from what I’ve read, HFII hated rear engines. He turned down the offer of being given the whole VW factory shortly after the war, in part because of his (and his execs) bias against them. I cannot see one of his companies developing a rear engine car.
Yeah, seeing that one for context makes the other one (in the post) seem WAY more modern. The sharpness of the character lines especially. Interesting how they both have the upper character line just a bit under the vents. As well as how large/deep the hood opening is compared to the above. Clicking back and forth between them makes them seem like a good decade apart but the Ford one looks so unlike Ford it’s weird. I’m even starting to see Fiat in it if I look hard enough. Maybe Don has some idea, he seems to spend half his time looking at old photos of styling bucks and can probably decipher the code numbers on the plaque 🙂
If it didn’t have that damn “K” on its plate, I would have utterly dismissed that fastback clay.
That German journalist’s notes must have gotten a bit mixed up. I actually stumbled into a different German version than the one I linked to, and it specifically said “Starrachse”. Good luck building a rear engine car with one of those.
May be the structure of archive code 25.663cs215-2 could be a hint – or even the key – to settle the pictures (and so the clay models) origin.
Corresponding to Ford’s archive rules ? Or more corresponding to Volkswagen’s arcive rules ?
I’m afraid not to have some more “registred” images to compare with. Anybody out there … ?
Lee Iacocca had some words about the Cardinal and his opposition to it in his autobiography. He was convinced it wouldn’t sell in America, at least at a decent profit.
What’s with the speedometer only going down to 10?
Since no one has answered the speedometer question, here goes:
REALLY look at that speedometer, it goes up to 160 !!!! Do you really think that this car, with it’s small 4 cylinder engines, as heavy as it was (compared to other cars it’s size, anyway), would be capable of 160 MILES per hour? That speedometer is marked in KILOMETERS per hour, at least I hope it is. And as such, 10 kilometers equals about 6 miles per hour. I suppose they could have started with “0” but in doing that they would have either made the markings more crowded or they would have been forced to subtract markings from the top end.
I find it fascinating the curious little details folks focus on.
I agree. That said, this vehicle is a “curious little detail”. And that’s why I read CC.
It was fairly common for speedometers on European cars not to start at 0 at that time. I think the speedo on my parent’s Renault Dauphine ca. 1959 started at 10.
This article contains a lot of details that I missed about the Ford P4. I almost bought one and ended up getting a beetle.
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/cars-of-a-lifetime/almost-coal-ford-taunus-12-m-2-birds-in-the-bush-and-one-heck-of-a-ride/
A terrific piece that definitely sheds some light on a car and some corporate workings.
Some speculation: The amount of publicity Ford gave the Cardinal in the US must have been just enough to catch attention and to position themselves for criticism later on. Somewhere I have a video of car commercials from the 1960s. One is the cast of Bonanza (sponsored by Chevrolet) standing behind a fence, polishing their pistols, talking about going hunting for Falcons and how they had really hoped to bag a Cardinal, but it seems to have suddenly become extinct (nudge, nudge, chuckle, chuckle).
… and here is that ad!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyKg7nzQFmo
Look for it around 59 seconds in.
Well, you’ve done it again. Another car I had no idea of its existence, what an informative read. How many more times can you do that?
“East Germany or Kenosha”, I got a chuckle out of that one. It really does look like a Rambler doesn’t it?
Looking forward to Cortina MK1, now that’s a car I know about 🙂
A very fascinating story. As an aside, it appears that Russian designers were looking at the facelifted 1966 12M when they styled the GAZ Volga M-24 – introduced a few years later.
Wow… outstanding piece here — and one that I’ll probably read and re-read a few times.
The late-1950s import sales boom in the US (resulting from the 1958 recession) is fascinating — both due to the sudden increase in import sales, also also the Big 3’s reaction to the recession (scrambling to bring compact cars to market quickly).
For example, Ford actually imported the Taunus in 1958-59 to satisfy immediate demand for small cars (which turned out to be a tiny amount of sales). And oddly, they were sold only through Mercury/Edsel/Lincoln dealers, not Ford dealers.
The Cardinal/Taunus saga is a great example of how disoriented the Big 3 were when it came to smaller cars at that time. Thanks for the extensive research here… this article is quite a resource.
Yes, it is really interesting that US manufacturers seemed unable to grasp the technique that almost every other successful small car designed after the war used: just make a conventional car smaller.
Instead, they felt the need to go all engineer-geek and find a new way to make a small car. Which was guaranteed to be like the Corvair and so many other early 1960s GM cars – highly interesting, of limited commercial appeal, and quite unprofitable.
I’ve said it before, but there’s no good reason to think that the Corvair wasn’t profitable. Unlike the Cardinal, its costs were carefully audited and controlled.
And unlike the Falcon, the Corvair actually fulfilled its mission to attract import buyers.
I’m quite convinced that Iaccoca dislike the Falcon because it cannibalized big Ford sales and did nothing to increase Ford’s overall sales and market share. And that he was obviously jealous of the Corvair’s ability to do just that. The Monza was a genuine hit in 1961. It’s not a coincidence that Iaccoca brought his execs together to brainstorm the future for Ford as having to cultivate a sporty image. And that led directly to the Mustang.
The impact of the Monza cannot be overstated.
Maybe, but whose desk did the complaints from Australia about the Falcon end up on and the requests for stronger suspension parts, Ford AU was making changes using parts for a model not yet in production to strengthen its version. The Falcon became a success down under but it wasnt initially and Lee would have known.
Falcon sales in Australia were hardly a concern of Lee’s. The numbers were minute compared to the almost half-million per year in the US.
“I’m quite convinced that Iaccoca dislike the Falcon because it cannibalized big Ford sales and did nothing to increase Ford’s overall sales and market share.”
. . . which would be a pretty good reason for disliking the Falcon, no?
I think that Chevrolet was moving a whole different direction image-wise from Ford in those years. Big Fords were just as dowdy as the Falcon in 1960-62 so their whole line was selling to die-hard Ford buyers and probably some Studebaker refugees. Chevrolet was selling style and youth in 1960-62. But that still did not stop them from building their own Falcon in 1962.
Pontiac (who wasn’t in the same market price as Chevrolet and Ford) also gambled on selling style and youth during the same era which helped them to rise to #3 in the 1960s ahead of Plymouth.
Then if Iacocca disliked the Falcon for cannibalizing big Ford sales, did he disliked the mid-size/intermediate Fairlane as well?
Then if Iacocca disliked the Falcon for cannibalizing big Ford sales, did he disliked the mid-size/intermediate Fairlane as well?
Most likely not, as it appears to have brought in new customers. Big Ford and Falcon sales dropped in ’62, but the Fairlane’s 300k sales added about 100k net sales to Ford overall.
But that still did not stop them from building their own Falcon in 1962.
Interestingly, although the Chevy II sold well in ’62 (327k), Corvair sales went up too, to 293k, its best year ever. The combination really boosted Chevy Division sales in ’62.
I know you tend to be a bit dismissive about the Corvair, it sold in the 200-300k range from 1960 through 1965. Given the much bigger market today, that’s comparable to selling 340 to 510k today! That’s more than Camry or Rav4. Companies would die to have that high of sales, especially if they were mostly conquest sales.
I still maintain that the Corvair was a pretty serious success, until the Mustang knocked the wind out of its sales.
Although the ’58 recession fueled it a bit further, the import car boom started shortly after the war and grew quite steadily each year. In the first half of the 50s, it was dominated by British makes; Austin was the #1 import. In 1955 there was a significant shift, as the VW suddenly exploded in popularity, and then in ’58, the Renault Dauphine had a big surge in popularity. By 1959, imports had just over 10% of the market.
True… and on the topic of small cars in the early 1950s, if I’m not mistaken, I think the French-market Ford Vedette started off as a design for a small American-built post-war car. But when it became clear that Americans would still buy bigger cars after the war, the Vedette design was shuttled off to Europe. I’m not 100% sure that’s accurate, but if so, it’s a very similar story to the Cardinal.
You are correct – have a look at this article. There is a follow-on for the Simca era too.
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/automotive-histories/automotive-history-the-small-flathead-v8-v8-60-part-deux-the-post-war-fords/
Thanks — I couldn’t remember where I had read about that.
Great write up, thank you Paul!
As a kid in Greece on the 1970s, I remember these cars. The featured Taunus 12M struck me as “cheap-looking”, the 17M P3 by Uwe Bahnsen I thought was one of the ugliest cars! Not as bad as a Citroen Ami, but bad.
The 1960s Opels looked so much better, the Kadetts and Rekords and occasional Diplomat
I really like this article, great job!!!
It was certainly not obscure in Israel where I grew up in the 60s. It must say something that even in the backwoods place Israel was back then it was not particularly loved but then we had the British Cortina Mk I, which highlighted all of the Taunus’ shortcomings. I remember them quite well, awkward looking and always sounding strained with those V4s – one my schoolmates’s dad had a second gen 12M, converted to a sedan delivery from a wagon (Israeli tax special) and it was no nicer inside. They did not last very long under local conditions – I think there are very few survivors.
But I suppose for Ford they did serve the purpose of learning how to do (or not do) a FWD car…
Very cool, Paul, this was interesting.
I like it. It has some of those classic 60s styling cues without looking as weird as the Beetle or awkward as the Kadett. The blue wagon and white coupe pictured: I want those. Transplant a Toyota Yaris 1.5L with stick shift to get those 0-60 times down in the 8-9 second range and emissions/durability up to spec!
A really fascinating story. I vaguely recall reading Ludvigsen’s piece in SIA but it was not the kind of car that caught my interest in 1977 so very little of it stuck in my noggin. Your deep dive into the history of this troubled little car is worthy of a Curby award.
I have to say that Iacocca made the right call. As you note, the car did nothing particularly well when compared to the Kadett and the Beetle. It would have been a niche vehicle selling maybe 30-40K/year at the start and tapering down to about 20. There is no way Ford would have made money on it as there was no other similar platform with which to share some component costs. And the vibrating V4 would never have endeared itself to American drivers.
And I do not believe that this would have provided the basis for a good small car later. The whole concept (front longitudinal V4/FWD) was a dead end. The BMC Mini and the Toyota Corona would be the templates for successful small cars going forward. Let’s just say that it was an interesting concept (that spawned a middling V6) and leave it there.
a troublesome V6
That’s the first time I’ve ever heard it called that. Based on what?
I’m sure some versions or details weren’t perfect, but I had rather the opposite impression in general.
Essex V6 wasnt much good we got loads of them in MK4 Zephyrs initially in 2.5 displacement Zephyr and 3.0 Zodiac, the 2,5 was dropped after the first year due to complaints about being gutless and warranty issues and both models used the 3.0 Zodiac motor also fitted to Capris.
Overheating and oil pump /distributor failures were common, the V4 Zephyr wasnt offered here and the V6 spawned a same day V8 swap industry the MK4 4 speed was stronger than the MK3 you saw optional on early Falcons and could withstand up to a 350 SBC or 351 Ford V8 reliably. The 3.0 was better but not by much.
It did have issues (fibre timing gear failure for example) but when it was running well, the 3.0 Essex was a great engine, great gobs of low down torque like a Diesel engine
Oops, I was confusing the Essex and the Cologne V6s. Let’s go with middling instead, as while it was certainly not a bad one, it will not go down in history as one of the outstanding ones either.
Interesting story. Lots of really cool stuff I never knew before today. However, the drawing from the front of Mechanix looks incredibly like the 1963 – 70 Ford Corsair…
It sure does! Undoubtedly someone in Ford must have leaked this and it was assumed to be the Cardinal. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll include that in the article.
I always liked the Corsair when I was at Junior school. The headmaster had one and I thought the pointed front looked really modern. Of course, I later learnt that the Corsair was basically a mildly stretched and tarted-up Cortina; a cheap replacement for the short-lived Classic, filling the gap between Cortina and the increasingly large Zephyr/Zodiac range. While it was never a runaway success it must have been quite a profitable exercise given the commonailty under the skin.
From the sound of it (your comparison to it’s chief rivals), Ford has had problems building cars with decent space utilization for decades. One of the criticisms of the Contour/Mondeo was it’s poor space utilization.
I knew a tiny bit about the Cardinal before I started to read this article but not as much as I thought that I did. I always assumed that the Cardinal was the car that Ford intended to build as their 1st small car in the U. S. but at the last minute the switch was made for the bigger Falcon.
I am also…fascinated (?) by the revelation that parts for an American built small car would have come from Germany. Though not nearly as fascinated as by all the new (for Ford) technology the Cardinal represented…and in their smallest car. GM was still years away from FWD cars, and would put that feature in it’s largest cars. Aside from Lancia, was any manufacturer building narrow angle V type engines?
”One of the criticisms of the Contour/Mondeo was it’s poor space utilization.”
True, and ironically the original Taurus had excellent space utilization, so it’s not like Ford was incapable of building space efficient vehicles. On the other hand, when the third-generation Taurus was introduced a few years after the Contour/Mondeo, it seemed cramped given its overall size.
Lots of “V4” cars for sale on Craigslist, 😉
A common mistake with average car owners when selling, calling every motor a “V-#”.
True. I’ve seen plenty of pre-1997 F150s advertised as having V6 engines.
Then: “… exacerbated by the fact that the Big Three’s standard cars were growing rapidly in size and weight throughout the decade. A growing number of Americans, especially women, wanted smaller cars.”
Now: “… exacerbated by the fact that the Big Three’s standard cars were [getting shorter] throughout the decade. A growing number of Americans, especially women, wanted [taller SUV’s].
And, VW has now brought out larger UV’s and is dropping the Beetle.
Who would have predicted this turn of events, after decades of “we need more small cars on the market”?
I spotted the possible Corsair drawing, fascinating write up about a rarely seen car over here, being a RHD former British colony we got our small Fords from England post war but the occasional Taunus has snuck in probably as baggage with German immigrants, the differences to the British product are amazing considering both were aimed at similar domestic markets though there are similarities in the cars they replaced, Looking forward to the Cortina edition.
This was a fascinating article. As Eric703 noted, these were supposedly imported into the U.S. in small numbers, but they must not have been very popular and they’ve always been something of a mystery to me. I’ve never seen one of these Taunus 12M on the roads although many years ago I did see a larger Taunus 15M (or perhaps a 17M) in the parking lot of an Osco pharmacy in L.A. Thank you for an article that was timely and well-done.
Imports of the Taunus to the US ended after the 1959 MY, presumably so as not to compete with the Falcon. So the 12M was never officially imported to the US. That’s not to say that some weren’t brought over privately, which was a lot easier back then.
358.273,8 kilometers
I have to chuckle because you wrote the numbers like Austrian (or European) would do. My American friends pointed it out every time I write with comma for decimal and period to separate the group of thousands.
By the way, I recall that Ford did have another front-wheel-drive project at
about the same time. Ford engineer, Frederick J. Hooven, developed the UPP in 1959 and received the patent in 1962. General Motors had to license the Ford technology as to avoid litigation despite the minor variations between two UPP designs.
Ha! I copied and pasted that, to save me the effort of typing it out, and I never noticed that. I wouldn’t have written it like that, for sure.
I mentioned Ford’s other FWD project. It was targeted at the ’61 TBird and considered (briefly) for the Falcon, but was not suitable for the Cardinal for the reasons given. It does sound quite similar the GM’s UPP.
That snapshot in time where the decision was made to build two identical cars, one with metric fasteners and one with SAE, simultaneously makes perfectly good sense and strikes me as completely ludicrous.
Keep in mind, back in the early ’60’s nobody was even talking metric in the US, much less trying to implement it (like twenty or so years later when the resistance hit).
Metric was for the furrin’ crap.
Oh, yes. That’s the part that makes perfect sense.
The part that is ludicrous is about having to make two complete sets of engineering drawings and the possibility (likelihood?) of conversion/rounding errors, etc.
But unless I’m mistaken, didn’t Ford routinely do that between its German and British operations, at least until the UK adopted the metric system?
And by the way, an old sales filmstrip on YouTube for one of the original Big Three compacts (I forget which one) makes a big fuss over its superiority over the Beetle and other imports, because “the owner doesn’t have to invest in special metric tools to work on his car.”
I recall seeing some US ads for the Anglia of the late 50s touting US style fasteners.
Thank you for your once again excellent work, Paul. I have always been interested in the Taunus/Cardinal story, but like you said in your article, there is very little information regarding these cars on the web.
This is one of the finest historical pieces ever done on any vehicle. Very informative and a very good read!
Thank you Paul for this outstanding article. I love these deep dives into automotive history, even more so when it’s about a car I have little knowledge of. The pictures you found from autobild.de were outstanding, almost as if you hired someone to take them for your article. I look forward to your follow-up article on the Cortina.
As for the story about Iacocca, I did some digging for you and found some information on it in his Autobiography. As in many things I have researched over the years, there are often snippets of truth in the various stories out there. According to Iacocca, when he took over the Ford division, one of his responsibilities was to oversee production. At this time McNamara had already authorized the development of the Cardinal and it was scheduled to be released in the fall of 1962. Iacocca states that a few months after he started his job, he flew over to Germany to check out the progress on the Cardinal. When he saw the car, he was underwhelmed.
He states “It was a fine car for the European market, with its V-4 engine and front wheel drive. But in the United States there was no way it could have sold three hundred thousand units we were counting on. Among other problems, the Cardinal was too small and had no trunk. And while it’s fuel economy was great, that wasn’t yet a selling point for the American consumer. In addition the styling was lousy. The Cardinal looked like it was designed by committee.”
Iacocca went straight to HFII when he got back from Germany, and told him “The Cardinal is a loser” and that if Ford were “to bring out a another lemon soon after the Edsel [it] would bring this company to its knees. We simply can’t afford a new model that won’t appeal to young buyers.”
He went on to say that he met with top management and the board of directors to discuss the fate of the Cardinal. He claims that he pitched the car wouldn’t sell and it’s best for Ford to cut their loss. He convinced the majority and there were only two dissenters, John Bugas, head of Fords International Operations, and Arjay Miller, Ford’s Controller. Bugas, wanted the car to succeed because he would be responsible for building it and Miler was concerned about the $35 million invested thus far and didn’t want to suffer the loss.
He goes on to admit that McNamara was ahead of his time on the Cardinal and admits the Cardinal would have been great at the time of the OPEC crisis. But then he also saves face by saying that being ahead of your time in the car business is not good for business. He also mentions that the Falcon was a big sale success, and credits that to McNamara. However he knocks the car for its lack of styling and its low profitability.
Thanks again Paul for the work that you put into this.
Thanks, Vince. I enjoy a deep dive once in a while, although other parts of life gets left by the wayside a bit.
I too found and read that whole section by Iaccoca you quoted here. As is so commonly the case, especially in Lee’s reminiscences, it was a bit less than totally accurate. “No trunk”?? The Cardinal had a very roomy trunk for its class; undoubtedly the biggest.
But I get his point, and obviously after that audit showed the Cardinal to be more expensive to build than the Falcon, it was a dead bird.
And the “300,000 units we were counting on” is also incorrect. First year sales were targeted at 100,000, and the factory line had a maximum capacity of 180,000/year. 300k was completely unrealistic; he forgot the real number. He does tend to lean towards exaggeration and bombast a bit. 🙂
It’s been a long time since I read Iacocca but I do remember that Lee’s versions of events seem to be very flattering of himself. No doubt he’s ego showed through in that book. And the 300,000 projection and the tiny trunk comments he put in his book were likely embellishments to make his decision look better.
That said, it does confirm that Iacocca went to Germany to inspect the Cardinal. And according to his book he went a couple of months after being appointed as general manager of Ford. So if he got the job in November 1960, he probably went to Germany in early 1961, which would have also been after McNamara resigned in December 1960.
Clearly when Iacocca had the chance, he wanted to change directions from McNamara. He describes McNamara as having a deep conviction that a car was a means of transportation and not a toy. And while he compliments the Falcon and claims it was the most successful of the 1960 compacts, he also basically describes it as a boring car with no style. He goes on to say “despite it’s enormous popularity, the Falcon did not bring in as much money as we had hoped. As an economical small car, its profit margin was very limited. Nor did it offer many options which would have greatly increased our revenues. After my promotion to the head of the Ford Division, I began to develop my own ideas about doing a car that would be popular and make us a ton of money. Within a couple of years, I would have the opportunity to put these ideas into practice.”
Step one of his goal to have more exciting cars began with axing the Cardinal. It seems pretty clear Iacocca had completely different ideas the type of cars that Ford should be selling.
And while he does claim the Falcon was a the biggest success of the 1960 compacts, he also does acknowledge that the Corvair Monza was a hot-selling sporty compact and Ford had nothing to compete with it. I will give him credit for he and his Fairlane committee for at least recognizing this early on, while I am not so sure if McNamara would have had he still been around.
There was an after-the-fact article about the the Cardinal, “The Cardinal That Never Flew Here,” in the October 1962 issue of Car & Driver.
Aha. Did I miss anyhting really significant from that?
Epic piece. Epic enjoyment. Love this styling period for FoMoCo.
The stunning 17M P3 was shaped by Ford US expat Wes Dahlberg, with Bahnsen assisting.
Aha! Thanks.
Any ideas about that rear engine fastback clay? It’s got me utterly stumped.
Don’t know much, but its similarity to the VW is scary.
It might be a marginalised ‘let’s-see’ exercise, where they rotated the FWD arrangement and put it at the rear like VW. For some reason, the name Ghia springs to mind when I catch a glimpse of the Ford clay. But Ghia was still working with Chrysler and don’t think with Ford until the mid-1960.
The shape is unlike what I remember coming out of the Ford US advanced studios at the time. My guess, a talented in-house local. Whose next job was at Volkswagen.
The thing is, since there’s no date on the photo, it may well not be from 1959. It looks a bit younger than that.
1966 Ghia Vanessa, based on the Fiat 850. Not the same shape but…
Interesting…
Nothing to add other than thank you for thoroughly researching this and putting it together. I always wanted to know more about the Cardinal and this has really fleshed out my knowledge.
Wonderful dive, Mr N. You really must have had scuba gear for this one.
Quite striking that a company run by the original number-cruncher himself (McNamara) could initiate then let a project run so long before an audit revealed what seems super-obvious from the specs: it would have to cost more than a Falcon. Just look. U-joints, full-synchro, sealed-for-life water pump, unique suspensions. But then this was also a company (like GM) that let two divisions a mere 300 miles apart design two unique 60 degree V4’s within 3 years of eachother! Btw, for any vibration complaints of the Cologne V4, the Essex one was even worse. That’s the one Oz got in Transits, and it was hated both for the ruckus and the unreliability.
I do have to wonder why Ford didn’t make an inherently-balanced flat-four when they were “borrowing” much of their power-pack layout from the Lancia Flavia, (including the transverse leaf and power package idea)? A flat six could have stemmed from that as needed too.
Motorsport Magazine liked it new. A bit vibey at low speeds, excellent gearchange, roomy, and heavy understeer which became a tailslide on lifting off. They regarded it as something much nicer than the conventional Cortina they called “stodgy”. Why, they even took it round a wet Nurburgring in 16-odd minutes! For context, the Top Gear folk nearly cracked 10 mins in a diesel Transit in about 2009. Time marches on.
This Cardinal is pretty sinful in the styling department, but one question from a non-American. I understand that the Falcon was regarded as a cheap or throwaway car when new. I also get why Ford wouldn’t like a car that took sales from more profitable lines. But what is the issue, often referred to, with the styling? I’ve always thought the Falcon a rather lovely-looking device. The original, especially the billowing-sheet roof, is downright pretty. And the hipster love it now gets seems to reinforce my view. For sure, it’s a cheap classic, but they cannot possibly all be driving it as some ironic statement either. Iaccocca was right to abandon this Taunus stodge-box on styling alone, but with the Falc, what am I not seeing?
I understand that the Falcon was regarded as a cheap or throwaway car when new.
I don’t have that same understanding at all. I’ve heard the same statement often over the years and I don’t know where it comes from. Americans certainly didn’t think so at the time. The whole notion of a disposable car would have been the utter kiss of death, unless it cost half as much or less.
A base 1960 Falcon cost $1912; a base big Ford cost $2230. That’s 16% more. I don’t thank anyone was willing to save 16% in order to buy a “throwaway” car. Would you?
The Falcon wasn’t engineered to be disposable. Yes, like many brand new cars, it had a few weaknesses, but in the US they were considered minor. The suspension’s inability to cope with you Outback wasn’t an issue here.
The fact that so many are still around in the hands of hipsters rather proves this point. Was it quite as solidly engineered as the Valiant? No. But the Valiant weighed more, and as a result, was not as economical as the Falcon. And I suspect Chysler’s profit margin was thinner too.
As to the Falcon cannibalizing big Ford sales, that should have been predictable, but I think this is where Ford fooled itself somewhat. Ford tended to attract a lot of very sensible buyers who grew up with Model T and As, and were increasingly unhappy about the size big Fords were becoming. So they went for the Falcon, which was often referred to as the new Model A.
As to its styling, the 1960 Falcon had attractive styling. But compared to the Corvair, it looked rather tall (which it was), and certainly not sporty. The Corvair was excessively low, for a regular passenger car. One sat almost on the floor. The Falcon was a better choice as a regular economy sedan, in terms of packaging. But the Corvair looked much more dynamic and sporty in comparison. That’s where the Falcon’s image came from: they types of drivers who bought them (thrifty) and its tall stance on those very skinny little tires.
This composite picture helps, but doesn’t fully show just how much lower the Corvair was.
My point is that while the Corvair was not as practical as the Falcon as an economy car, the Corvair Monza became an unexpected hit in 1961, totally due to its sporty looks, feel, and marketing. The Monza made the Falcon look very dull in comparison. And that’s waht annoyed Iaccoca.
Ah, thankyou. That resolves something I’ve often wondered about, and makes a whole lot of sense.
Your mention of sensible A and T buyers seems key, and instantly conjures an image of hordes of the “American Gothic” couple thriftily approving of the size and sinless lack of ostentation in the car. (Well, it conjures such to this distractable mind anyway, but you get the drift).
As an aside, the suspension failures of the early Falcon here are also a bit fanciful. Best I can tell, it seems to come down to balljoint failure from an under-specified batch from England, which was rectified.
One last thought, based on a super-quick scan of (possibly inaccurate) internet sources. There’s a ’62 Falc always parked in my street, and at 54-odd inches, it looks LOW. And compared to a current Camry, a lowish car today at 57 inches, it is.
Till I look online to see the Corvair was about 51 inches – which is just 0.7 of an inch above a Toyota 86! Amazing.
The Corvair’s lowness is remarkable, especially so in today’s traffic.
I think there were two reasons for that:
1. a lower center of gravity would of course minimize its inherent tendency to tip or roll thanks to its swing axles. It still did anyway but it would have been worse had it been conventionally tall.
2. Stylistically (which was a big thing for GM at the time) they specifically wanted to avoid having it look like the Falcon or typical compacts. While the Falcon is nicely styled, inevitably its windows (and greenhouse) looks tall in relative terms, because it’s shorter. It’s all about the height-length ratio. The Corvair is like a perfectly scaled down big Chevy in its ratios. That means it had to be really short to do so.
The rear engine and flat floor and minimal ground clearance along with seats very low on the floor made that possible. Getting in and out of one was like a sports car.
None of that made any sense as a sensible economy car, which is why the Falcon hoovered up all those buyers, but as a sporty coupe, it was perfect. America’s first affordable sporty car. Which led directly to the Mustang.
What are the chances? Two days after my comment….(excuse quality of photo)
British Motor Corporation was also working on a narrow-angle Lancia-influenced V4 in the late 1950s:
https://www.aronline.co.uk/cars/bmc-cars/1100-1300/ado16-development-story/
Scroll down to “The story behind the abandoned V4 engine.”
Speaking of the Ford Cortina, while Ford UK rejected the FWD Cardinal project was the Ford Essex V4 intended to power a UK built version of the Cardinal (assuming the Essex V4 was able to fit into the latter)?
Great article. Always nice to read about car development and companies strategies.
I somehow missed this last December, Paul. In the early 1960s I was just getting interested in all the (Detroit) auto magazines, and realizing everything that went into clean-sheet design and production.
(FWIW, I just searched “Cardinal” at the Henry Ford Museum’s digital collection, and got zero hits.)
A bit off-topic is this photo from “The Ford Book of Styling” (1963), and wonder about the clay in the upper LH corner. Full-size or not–and what is it?
The windshield looks identical to the Falcon’s. It looks to be about the same size too. This shot looks like they just lumped together a bunch of various items for the photo shoot.
Apparently Ford of Germany in 1964 also developed a V4 sportscar known as the Ford Special, which mated a sophisticated mid-engined 2+2 RWD layout with downsized Europeanised Ford Mustang-esque inspired exterior styling.
The engine’s heat output and lack of refinement however made the layout unsuitable, with those involved with the project saying they had a problem insulation the rear passengers from the engine, noise and head to the point where the pistons almost hit the backrests of the seats.
That said the concept might have worked in other circumstances had the Ford Special been a 2-seater (instead of a 2+2) like the conceptually similar V4-powered Ford Mustang I or even the Saab Sonett II/III (plus the 3-seater Matra 530), possibly with scope for a V6 variant akin to the 2.3 V6 Siva Sirio prototype. Though would have wanted to see a Ford US-developed variant of the above with the narrow-angle V4 in place of the 60-degree Taunus V4.
I discovered yesterday that there’s an interesting little item by John R. Bond in the July 1962 issue of Car Life about the Cardinal, with a discussion of the mooted 20-degree V-4, including dimensions and a cutaway drawing.
It describes the block as being 10.5 inches long and 11 inches high, with a block height (not including sump) of 9.5 inches, with three main bearings of 2.25 inch diameter. The narrow angle allowed both banks to share a single head (albeit with separate rocker covers) with integral intake manifold and a high-mounted central camshaft.
Surprisingly, its expected displacement was significantly greater than the 12M: 1,506 cc for the European version, 1,768 cc for the U.S. version. As became typical European Ford practice, bore was the same for both (3.25 inches), with different stroke lengths. Bond estimated “an easy 70 bhp at 4800 rpm” for the 1.8-liter version.
It should be said that despite what Ludvigsen’s article tended to imply, Ford absolutely did not enter the ’70s thinking it was time to make what became the B-segment Fiesta, no matter what their earlier marketing projections had said. In fact, opponents came up with a new marketing study insisting that the entire B segment would dry up and disappear within a decade! Which is a reminder that market research is not infrequently done to rationalize a predetermined decision…
In the Popular Mechanics August 1961 issue there is lots of history on the Ford Cardinal. See images attached.
Peter
Regarding the NPX-C5, I have been reading, with some difficulty, the Hans-Peter Rosellen book (Ford-Schritte: Ford in Deutschland von 1945 bis 1970, Zyklam-Verlag, 1988) that seems to be the main source of information, and I think that the stories claiming the NPX had a rear engine have just gotten confused about what it actually says, which is:
I think the statement that the model (Vorbild) for the NPX-C5 was the Beetle and Dauphine threw somebody off, or else they somehow got the idea that the phrase “der motor sollte im Bug” had something to do with the Beetle rather than “the engine was to be mounted in front,” which is what it actually means.
(Hanns-Peter Rosellen is the pen name of Hanns-Peter Baron Tyssen-Bornemissza von Kaszon, which is the journalist to which the MotorZeitung.de piece refers.)
Rosellen DOES screw up the timeframe of Iacocca becoming Ford Division general manager, which is a pretty outrageous mistake given that Ford-Schritte was written for Ford as an official or semi-official history of Ford of Germany. So, that one is on him, but the rear-engine part is someone else’s mistake.
“Vorbild für den [NPX] Wagen waren die damals erfolgreichsten Wagen am Markt; der VW Käfer und die Renault Dauphine. Der leistungs-fähige Ein-Liter-Motor sollte im Bug sitzen die Vorderräder hingen an McPherson-Federbeinen und die Hinterräder an einer Starrachse, die jener des französischen Simca 1300 ähnlich war.
I think the statement that the model (Vorbild) for the NPX-C5 was the Beetle and Dauphine threw somebody off, or else they somehow got the idea that the phrase “der motor sollte im Bug” had something to do with the Beetle rather than “the engine was to be mounted in front,” which is what it actually means.”
This section in Rosellen’s book seems to be somehow contradictory in itself. On one hand, he calls the Beetle and the Dauphine as “Vorbild” (both got rear engines). On the other hand, he proclaims the engine of the new car should be placed in the “Bug”.
Usually, “Bug”* in German describes the f r o n t of a ship’s hull. There is no doubt about ist. The rear would be called “Heck”.
It only make sense if you d o n o t relate both sentences to each other, but read them as seperate, non related phrases. So the first sentence would mean, the Beetle and the Dauphine were “models in success” for the new car. Whereas the second sentence just describes its pure (diverging) design.
In this case, the use of the adversative conjunction by the author would have been very helpful for the reader.
* The word is related to the English word “bow” – which make some sense, if you look at a boat’s or a ship’s “bowed” front end.
Ford was certainly keen to emulate the commercial success of the Beetle and Dauphine in that segment, but I agree that “Vorbild” seems like a poor choice of words — something like “Hauptziele für den Wagen waren …” would probably have been nearer the mark, and even then, some clarifying conjunction might have been nice.
That said, my suspicion is that other sources claiming Rosellen said the NPX-C5 had a rear engine were due to someone skimming the text and not reading closely; if you do read it closely, what he was saying is straightforward, if rather clumsily framed. (“Der Motor sollte em Bug” is not an ambiguous statement, and the Simca 1300 — by which I presume he meant the Aronde 1300 — was an FR layout.)
“Bug” definitely means the front. All rear engine cars were called “heckmotor”.
There’s zero doubt in my mind that Cologne’s car was to be a conventional front-engine RWD car. And of course Ford UK took that concept and ran with it with their Cortina.
Oh, there was never any doubt about it, it’s just that you inspired me to look into the MotorZeitung article and determine how they probably got their (misleading, wrong) information, which led me to look for the Ford-Schritte book. (It is unfortunately now very hard to find in this country — it was never published in English, it’s been out of print for more than 35 years, and copies I found online are going for upwards of €90, to say nothing of what it would cost for shipping these days.)
And instead we got the Pinto!