Landau

Landau (pronouned lan-daw (U) or lan-dou (non-U))

(1) A light, four-wheeled, traditionally horse-drawn, two or four-seated (the original landau was for two passengers) carriage with a top made in two parts that may be let down or folded back, the two meeting over the middle of the passenger compartment; in four-seat versions, the front and rear passenger seats would face each other, an arrangement now often called “vis-a-vis seating”.

(2) By extension, a style of automobile based around the design of landau carriages, usually a limousine or sedan-like with a partially convertible roof arrangement, the most rearward part retractable.

(3) A model name for automobiles now with no precise definition but which is usually applied to vehicles with some variation in the treatment of the roof (though not necessarily a configuration).

1743 (1723 in the German): Traditionally thought named after the German city of Landau, where such carriages were first made and called landauers, following the model of the berliner, a carriage with origins in the city of Berlin.  The city of Landau in der Pfalz (Landach in the Palatine German and usually clipped to Landau) is an autonomous (kreisfrei) town in the southern Rhineland-Palatinate.  Land was from the common Germanic element land (land, territory (which obviously endures in English), from the Proto-Germanic landą, from the primitive Indo-European lend- (land, heath); it was cognate with the Proto-Celtic landā.  The origin of the second element is disputed.  The noun plural is landaus.

The Landau

Murkier still though is the opinion of some etymologists that the name of the carriage was really from the Spanish lando (a light four-wheeled carriage drawn by mules), from the Arabic al-andul and the claim by the Germans was just blatant commercial opportunism.  If one accepts the orthodox etymology, in 1723 when first displayed in the city of Landau, the description landauer meant one thing: a two-seater horse-drawn light carriage configured with four wheels on two sprung axles and with a fabric top which could be thrown back (ie lowered) to the rear.  It was a luxury vehicle and much admired but the reaction of customers suggested a larger market beckoned if a four-seat version was available.  Accordingly, production commenced on what was essentially two of the two-seaters joined together, the seats in the traditional (viv-a-vis) arrangement of two benches facing each other and the fabric roofs duplicated, one hinged from the rear, one from the from front and, when erected, meeting in the centre above the passengers.  Access to the compartment was provided by one or two side-doors, the upper section of which was a framed glass window which could be removed (and later even wound-down) and it is to these vehicles that the origins of the modern convertible may be traced, the sense being of something which easily may be converted from open to closed .  In the records of the time, there are drawings of these four-seat carriages with a single fabric roof (a la the two-seat original), hinged from the rear but it’s not clear how many, if any, were built.

Before there were landaus, another carriage had provided an entry in the etymological record.  Designed probably in the late 1660s by a Piedmontese architect under commission from the quartermaster-general to Frederick William (1620–1688; Elector of Brandenburg and Duke of Prussia 1640-1688), several of what came to be known as berliners were used by the elector to travel from Berlin to Paris, then a trip of 1,055 km (655 miles) and upon arrival, the elegant but obviously robust vehicles caused a sensation and immediately the design was copied by Parisian coachbuilders attracted by the ease of construction, efficiency of space utilization and critically, the economical use of materials which made them cheaper to build.  Lighter and with a lower centre of gravity which made them also safer, the French named them berlines in honor of their city of origin and quickly they began to supplant the less practical and frankly uncomfortable state and gala coaches which had been the definitive seventeenth century carriage.

The origin of the Berliner is undisputed but there have long been “alternative facts” contesting the genesis of the landau.  The orthodox history is that carriages in the style which came to be associated with the landau were first built in Landau and thus known as landauers, mentioned in Goethe's (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749–1832) epic-length poem Hermann and Dorothea (1796-1797):

Constantly, while he thus spoke, the crowds of men and of women

Grew, who their homeward way were over the market-place wending;

And, with the rest, there also returned, his daughters beside him,

Back to his modernized house on the opposite side of the market,

Foremost merchant of all the town, their opulent neighbor,

Rapidly driving his open barouche,—it was builded in Landau.

Lively now grew the streets, for the city was handsomely peopled.

Many a trade was therein carried on, and large manufactures.

A barouche was a large, open, four-wheeled carriage and historians of the industry suggest Goethe was describing a landauer and Jane Austen (1775-1817) in Emma (1816) spoke of a “barouche-landau” which combined “…the best features of a barouche and a landau" although the blend was apparently “not a popular innovation” and noting this critique, Austen scholar Jennifer S Ewing, Library Director at Southern California Seminary in El Cajon, pondered whether the “… choice of carriage itself speak to the elusiveness of the Sucklings in Emma, always promised, but never realized?  Such is the way of modern academic deconstruction but carriages were important in Austen’s writings, the size and style of a man’s carriage used to establish the measure of his wealth and social distinction so she was a keen observer of such things.

A more dramatic story is that associated with the epic journey by Austrian Archduke Joseph (1678–1711; Holy Roman Emperor & King Joseph I of Austria 1705-1711) who in 1702 arranged a fleet of 77 coaches to carry him and his entourage of 250 from Vienna to Landau, there to take the command at the siege of what was then the a French border fortress.  It’s claimed the feat of moving the 250 men in 14 daily stages was so extraordinary that the coaches were forever associated with the town of Landau, the French soldiers also so impressed they took the name back to Paris.  It’s a romantic story but Goethe and Austen are more persuasive.

The theory of an Arabic origin of the name is interesting, the argument being the Arabic al-andul (litter, cars (and related to the Sanskrit hindola (a swinging cradle or hammock; an ornamental swing or litter in which figures of kṛṣṇa are carried during the Swing-festival in the light half of the month śrāvaṇa))) came into Spanish as lando (four-seat cart drawn by mules) from which it migrated in the form landau into English & French and was only then brought into German by popular etymological reinterpretation with the place name Landau and formed into landauer.  The Arabic derivation has the advantage that there’s no reliance of anecdotal tales of military adventure or historically dubious claims of manufacturing innovation but it’s wholly inconsistent with the chronology of verified evidence.  The word as the name of a carriage was documented in German in 1723 (and in English by 1743), but there's no trace in Spanish until 1830 and most etymologists think even then likely that it is more likely from the French than the Arabic.

Landaulet and Landaulette

The landaulette was a body style developed early in the twentieth century by car manufacturers and specialist coachbuilders, the construct being landau(l) + -ette (from the Middle English -ette, a borrowing from the Old French -ette, from the Latin -itta, the feminine form of -ittus.  It was used to form nouns meaning a smaller form of something).  A landaulette was distinguished by the compartment being covered by a convertible top while the front remained enclosed (although a landaulette rear-section was sometimes combined with the sedanca de-ville coachwork which had an open section also at the front (sometimes with a detachable top), leaving only a central portion with a permanently fixed roof.  It was once a very popular style used in taxis (in the days before air-conditioning) and was a feature of many parade limousines used for figures such as heads of state when they wished to be more visible to large crowds.  This use is now rare because of concerns about security, some of the old state-cars used in the wedding business, most brides concerned with matters other than assassination.  In the UK, historically, landaulette was used when referring to motor vehicles while the older landaulet was reserved for horse-drawn carriages.

Landaulet, the construct being landau(l) + -et (from the Middle English -et, from the Old French –et & its feminine variant -ette, from the Late Latin -ittus (and the other gender forms -itta & -ittum).  It was used to form diminutives (loosely construed) and was, after the first few years of the twentieth century, always the form used on the continent and refers to the same coachwork as landaulette.  Both words are now rare and it’s only specialists who are likely to apply them correctly.

Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100) Landaulet (long-roof).

Mercedes-Benz, at a leisurely pace, produced 59 600 Pullman Landaulets, twelve with a convertible top which covered the entire rear passenger space, the remainder with a shorter top which exposed only the rear-most seat.  Purchased usually for parade use or other ceremonial occasions, most were built with the six-door coachwork but there were a few which used the four-door body and the vis-a-vis seating.

Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100) one-off landaulet on the short wheelbase (SWB) platform.

The factory for decades provided the Vatican with papal landaulets, used in parades and sometimes they travelled with popes to foreign lands.  After the assassination attempt on John-Paul II, the concept was refined, the convertible top replaced with bullet-resistant clear panels and popes now less frequently appear in open-top cars.  Clockwise from top left: 300d (W189) papal throne, 300d (W189), 600 (W100), 300SEL (W109), S500 (W140), 300GD (W460), G500 (W463), ML500 (W166).  Just about everybody quickly dubbed the new cars "popemobiles".

Rolls-Royce Phantom V (1959-1968) State Landaulet by Mulliner Park Ward (MPW).

Queen Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of England the UK and other places, 1952-2022) and Prince Philip (1921-2021) in Mercedes-Benz 600 Landaulet, Brandenburg Gate, Berlin, state visit, June 1965.  This 600 Landaulet is one of twelve "long roof" cars (often informally styled as the "Presidential") in which the folding fabric roof extended over the whole of the rear compartment.  The remaining 46 600 Landaulets were "short-roof" models where the metal roof extended further rearwards, the fabric over only the rear-seat area.

The 1961 Lincoln Continental (Secret Service code X-100) in which President John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated could be configured as (1) a four-door convertible or, (2) a landaulet with a solid top attached above the driver’s compartment.  It was sometimes also used with a protective Perspex shield for the rear compartment but, infamously, this wasn’t used on the day of the assignation.  After the events in Dallas it was modified to include much more protective equipment and returned to the Secret Service’s White House fleet.

X-100 unprotected (left) and with an array of some of the roof accessories which enabled it to be configured as a four-door convertible, a landaulet or a sedanca de ville (although it was never seen as the latter) (right).  Interestingly, Lincoln's companion division, Mercury, in 1969-1970, sold a version of its full-sized Marauder two-door hardtop as the X-100, nominally a high-performance model but actually using an un-modified (360 horsepower) 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) version of its 385-series V8.  The X-100 was essentially an attempt to be in 1965 what the "letter series" Chrysler 300s had been between 1955-1965 but the moment had passed and the days of the "banker's hot-rods" were done.  The X-100 was never replaced.

Rolls-Royce Phantom IV State Landaulet by Hooper.

A bespoke creation produced exclusively for heads of state and crowned royalty (the "crowned" bit an important status symbol in royal circles) and never offered for sale to the public (a distinction shared only with the Mercedes-Benz 770K (W150; 88 made 1939-1943) and the Bugatti Royale (7 made, 1927-1933), Rolls-Royce between 1950-1958 made only 18 Phantom IVs, one of which was a ute (a light pickup truck) used by the factory until it was scrapped.  The Phantom IV's other footnote in Rolls-Royce history is it was their first and last passenger car powered by a straight-8 engine.

Daimler DS420 Landaulet by Vanden Plas.

Vanden Plas made only two Daimler DS420 Landaulets but many have been converted by coachbuilders (and some folk less skilled), the results said to be variable.  Many of the converted landaulets were used in the wedding trade, there presumably being genuine advantages for brides with big hair.  The DS420 was in production between 1968-1992 and used the platform of the big Jaguar Mark X (1961-1970; in 1967 slightly revised and re-named the 420G), the sales of which had never met expectations, failing in the home market because it was just too big and in the US because the factory chose to use 3.8 & 4.2 litre versions of the XK-Six as the powerplant rather than the 4.6 litre Daimler V8.  The underpinnings of the Mark X (the advanced suspension design and the four-wheel disk brakes) were several generations ahead of the US competition but the XK-Six was underpowered and lacked the torque required in what was a heavy machine.  A 5.5 litre V8 version with a well-integrated air-conditioning system would likely have been a great success in the US.  However disappointing the Mark X might have been, the long and lucrative career of the DS420 meant that eventually, the platform proved one of Jaguar's most enduringly profitable.

Marriage of the Prince of Wales to Lady Diana Spencer, 29 July 1981 (left), marriage of Prince Andrew to Sarah Ferguson, 23 July 1986 (centre) and marriage of Prince William to Catherine Middleton, 29 April 2011.

Maintained in the Royal Mews, the state landau carriage was built in 1902 by Messrs Hooper for Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910) and first used by him on the day of his coronation procession through London.  Extensively used since, it’s lasted well, unlike the marriages of some of the royal couples who have sat in it to and from the church.  Clearly not superstitious, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge choose the 1902 Landau although Prince Harry and Meghan Markle decided not to risk the curse, riding instead in one of the five Ascot landaus in the Royal Mews.

The fifth generation Ford Thunderbird Landaus, 1967-1971

1969 Ford Thunderbird Landau Coupé (429).

In what was a case study of supply responding to demand, the Ford Thunderbird which in 1955 had debuted as a two-seat convertible, was re-designed for 1958 as a four-seater, sales immediately rising.  Having already made the correct decision in 1955 to position the T-bird as a “personal car” rather than a sports-car and being rewarded with something which outsold the Chevrolet Corvette more than twenty-fold, it was obvious to rely on (what probably still is) the biggest “big-data” metric of all: what people are prepared to pay for.  Thus the T-bird continued successfully until 1966 as a four-seat coupé and convertible.  By 1967 however, Ford needed to consider not just the competing products of other manufacturers but also the corporation’s own proliferating range, the wildly successful Mustang and its new, up-market derivative, the Mercury Cougar, both of which (and not just at the margins) overlapped the T-bird’s lucrative niche.  Additionally, Lincoln had released a two-door version of the Continental so the T-bird needed somehow to appeal to those considering competitor vehicles yet try to avoid excessive cannibalizing sales within the corporation.

1967 Ford Thunderbird Landau Sedan (428).

Thus the fifth generation Thunderbird (1967-1971), the convertible gone (not to return until the one-off retro-car of 2002-2005), the coupé was joined by a four-door sedan, suicide doors added not just as a novelty but because, as had been the case with the 1961 Lincoln, the wheelbase was just a little too short comfortably to accommodate conventional hinging.  With Lincoln’s four-door convertible in its last days because of declining sales, no such T-bird was offered.  Quite how sincere Ford was in trying not to impinge on Mercury and Lincoln attracted attention even at the time.  The 1967 Thunderbird was the most expensive car on Ford’s list, attracting buyers who ticked much on the option list and they tended to leave the showroom costing much more than any other Ford or Mercury, the most expensive, the four-door Landau Sedan, sitting within a few hundred dollars of an entry-level Lincoln.

1969 Ford Thunderbird Landau Sedan (390) with vinyl roof removed.  In the quest for good taste, removing vinyl roofs from cars of that era is popular but on the four-door T-birds, they really need to be maintained.

By 1967, the US industry had long come to regard words like “landau” and “brougham”, once technical terms from coach-building, as just handy marketing terms, a brougham now something with more bling and a landau, usually a car distinguished often by sometimes oddly-shaped windows added to the C-panel and the increasingly bizarre ways in which vinyl would be glued to the roof and Ford wasn’t alone in adding fake “landau irons” (sometimes called “landau bars”) to cement the association.  Actually last used as a functional device for a convertible top in 1962 on the Mercedes 300d Cabriolet D (w189), they’d come to be adopted as a decorative flourish on C-pillars, thought to impart come link with the big cabriolets of the 1930s with which they were most associated.  On the two-door T-bird Landaus, that’s how they were used but on the four-door, they gained a new functionally: Disguising unfortunate styling.

The much admired “wrap-around” rear compartment: 1971 Ford Thunderbird Landau Coupé (429).

Just as the suicide doors had been a necessity, so too were the landau irons (which some coachbuilders insist should be called "carriage bars"), used to conceal the ungainly way the desired shape of the C-pillar had been achieved on a wheelbase too short, the vinyl roof another unavoidable trick to draw attention from what would otherwise have been obviously extraneous metal if painted.  The four-door T-birds are probably the only car ever made where a vinyl roof improved rather than detracted from the appearance and the fake landau bars helped too.  Some hearses are built with large expanse of something solid to the rear rather than glass and on those, fake landau bars are added as a flourish to reduce the effect of the slab-sidedness.  Ford’s aesthetic trick was clever but didn’t much help in the showroom, the four-door a slow seller which wasn’t replaced when the sixth generation was released only as a (very big) coupé which went on to great success.

The Ford (Australia) Landau (P5;1973-1976)

Even at the time, to many the Ford Landau can't have seemed a good idea.  Sales of large (compact in 1973 US terms) coupés had dropped precipitously since their brief burst of popularity and the only thing on the market which might have been a competitor, the Chrysler by Chrysler hardtop, had been dropped earlier in the year after eighteen months of disappointing sales.  Ford's own hardtop, debuting late in 1972 had come too late to enjoy much of the earlier fad which probably was a warning of sorts but it also meant there was a warehouse full of hardtop shells for which demand had almost evaporated.  Thus the Landau, a two-door version of Ford Australia's new LTD, a (much) stretched and (much) blingified Falcon, the parts-sharing meaning the Landau could be brought into production at modest cost; from the Detroit parts-bin came Mercury hidden-headlight assemblies and Thunderbird wheel-covers, the later marvelously intricate but so vulnerable to impacts with Australia's high kerb-sides they were soon replaced with units which protruded less.  Underneath lay the familiar combination of Ford's 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) Cleveland (335) V8 and FMX automatic transmission, the most notable mechanical innovation being the country's first locally produced (as opposed to assembled) car with four-wheel disk brakes, Ford even claiming the numbers of Landaus produced as counting towards the brakes being homologated for series-production racing, the rationale being the Landau's mechanical similarity to the Falcon GT hardtops used in competition.  It sounds improbable but that's how things used to be done.

The Landau's other "mechanical" difference from standard Falcon hardtops was some sheet-metal crudely welded into the rear-window apertures so a more "formal" roofline could be fashioned.  The welding seams were never finished to a fine standard because one feature of the LTD & Landau was a padded vinyl roof which, handily, covered the imperfections.  A padded vinyl roof is a really bad idea because it means a layer of porous foam rubber sits between the vinyl and the ferrous metal of the roof, the moisture accumulating and the rust soon starting, proximity to the coast and the tropics dictating how soon and ultimately to what extent.  It sounds improbable but that's how things used to be done.  Still, it was plush inside, lashings of (real) leather, much (fake) timber and four bucket seats (though despite the bulk of the thing the rear compartment was cramped and the cut-down windows made travel a claustrophobic experience) through the highlights were two real affectations, a twenty-four hour analogue clock and aviation inspired controls for the air-conditioning, recalling those installed rather more extravagantly on European machinery like the Facel Vega.  Just so people knew they were looking at something classy, pressed into the padded roof (about where the welding seams were being hidden) was a (wholly fake) coat of arms with lions rampant, two more escutcheons glued-on inside to comfort the passengers.

As a road car it was capable, even rapid by the standards of the time and the new brakes really were (pre-ABS) world class.  For commuting or touring it was a comfortable and effortless experience, at least for two although it could be hard to manage in urban conditions, the hardtop's already marginal rear-visibility further compromised by the loss of glass and the combination of the coupé's lowered roofline and almost flat rear window meant the rearward view was like looking through a slit.  That was unfortunate because the hardtops had been designed with series-production racing in mind so the rear fenders flared outwards allowing wide tyres to be fitted without modification to the bodywork.  Reversing a Landau could be a challenge but it was one not many took up, fewer than 1400 sold in a three-year run.  The timing of the release had been unfortunate for not only was it now in a dying market segment but within three months, the first oil shock hit.  The 351 V8, even it's more efficient (pre-emission control) form was always thirsty but in the Landau with all the luxury bits and pieces adding some 440 lb (200 KG) to the anyway hardly svelte Falcon Hardtop, it was worse.  When the P6 LTD was released in 1976, although one P6 Landau prototype had constructed for evaluation, the coupé was quietly dropped but now, the survivors are a collectable, one popular modification the removal of the vinyl roof and the proper finishing of the welded cover-plates.

1973 Ford Landau.  Ford added just about whatever could be added to justify the Landau's high price-tag.  The aviation-inspired sliding air-conditioning controls delighted many (although some dismissed them as "an affectation") and the turbine-style wheel-covers were imported from the Detroit parts-bin; while the intricate details were impressive, the "beehive" shape rendered then vulnerable to Australian kerbs and so much damage was reported they were soon replaced with flatter units.  The leather on the seats was real (and Australian grown) and the 24-hour clock was unique in the era but unfortunately, the budget didn't extend to real timber and the "woodgrain" on the instrument panel was plastic.