Quincunx (pronounced kwing-kuhngks
or kwin-kuhngks)
(1) An arrangement of five objects, in a square or
rectangle, one at each corner and one in the middle.
(2) In formal gardening, five plants placed thus as part
of a design,
(3) In forestry, as a baseline pattern, five trees
planted in such a shape.
(4) In botany, an overlapping arrangement of five petals
or leaves, in which two are interior, two are exterior, and one is partly
interior and partly exterior (described as a “quincuncial arrangement”
of sepals or petals in the bud.
(5) The pattern of the five-spot on dice, playing cards and
dominoes.
(6) In the history of numismatics, a bronze coin minted
during the Roman Republic, valued at five-twelfths of an as (five times the
value of the uncia); it was marked with five dots.
(7) In geometry, an angle of five-twelfths of a circle.
(8) In astrology
An angle of five-twelfths of a circle (or 150°)
between two objects (usually planets).
1640s: From the Latin quīncunx
(the basis for the construct being quīnque
+ uncia)
which translates literally as “five twelfths”, a reference to a bronze coin minted (circa
211–200 BC) with a five dot pattern and issued by the Roman Republic; it was
valued at five twelfths of an as (the Roman standard bronze coin). Descendants from the Latin include the English
quincunx, the French quinconce, the German
Quinkunx, the Spanish quincunce and the Portuguese quincunce. Quinque
(the numeric five (5)) was from the From Proto-Italic kwenkwe, from the primitive Indo-European
pénkwe, the cognates including the Sanskrit
पञ्चन् (páñcan), the Ancient Greek πέντε (pénte), the Old Armenian հինգ (hing),
the Gothic fimf and the Old English fīf (from which English ultimately
gained “five”). The basis of the construct
of the Latin uncia may have been ūnicus (unique) (from ūnus (one),
from the primitive Indo-European óynos) in the sense of twelfths making
up the base unit of various ancient systems of measurement) + -ia. Not all
etymologists agree and some prefer a link with the Ancient Greek ὀγκία (onkía) (uncia), from ὄγκος (ónkos) (weight). Uncia
was the name of various units including (1) the Roman ounce (one-twelfth of a Roman
pound), (2) the Roman inch (one-twelfth of a Roman foot), (3) a bronze coin
minted by the Roman Republic (one-twelfth of an as), (a Roman unit of land area (one-twelfth of a jugerum)) and in
the jargon of apothecaries became a synonym of ounce (the British & American
avoirdupois unit of mass); it was generally a synonym of twelfth. In algebra, it was a (now obsolete) numerical
coefficient in a binomial. Quīnque was the source of many modern
Romance words for “five” including the French cinq and the Spanish cinco;
uncia was the source of both “inch”
and “ounce”. Quincunx is a noun, quincuncial is an adjective and quincuncially
is an adverb; the noun plural is quincunxes or quincunces.

Quincunx garden, Wyken Hall, Suffolk, England.
When first
it entered English in the 1640s, “quincunx” existed only in the vocabulary of
astrologers (astrology then still a respectable science) and it was used to
describe planetary alignments at a distance of five signs from one another. By the 1640s it had migrated to mathematics
(particularly geometry) where it was used to define “an arrangement of five
objects in a square, one at each corner and one in the middle”, familiar in the
five pips on a playing card or spots on a di). In the 1660s (possibly from dice or cards
rather than the fortune-tellers), it was picked up by gardeners to describe the
layout of a section of a formal garden in which one plant or shrub was placed
at each corner of a square or rectangle with a fifth exactly in the centre (an arrangement
in two sets of oblique rows at right angles to each other, a sense known also
in the original Latin. In forestry, use
began (as a layout tool for new plantings) early in the eighteenth century.

Lindsay Lohan (born 2 July 1986) joins a list of the
illustrious with a Mercury Quincunx MC (a planetary alignment where Mercury is
150o apart from the Medium
Coeli (a Latin phrase which translates as “Midheaven” (“MC” in the jargon
of astrologers)). In explaining the
significance of the Quincunx MC, the planetary soothsayers note than when two
planets lie 150o apart, “tension is created due to their lack of
natural understanding or relation.” The MC
is the point where the cusp of the tenth house is found on a natal (birth) and
the MC sign signifies “one’s public persona”. Now we know.

Fluffy dice in 1974 Ford Mustang II (left), the color of
the dashboard molding emblematic of what was happening in the 1970s. In
continuous production over seven generations since 1964, the Mustang II
(1973-1979) is the least fondly remembered iteration (uniquely among Mustangs,
in its first season a V8 engine was not even optional) but, introduced some
weeks before the first oil embargo was imposed in 1973, it was a great sales
success and exceeded the company’s expectations. Unlike at least some of the models in all
other generations, the Mustang II is a classic “Malaise era” car and not a collectable in the conventional sense
of the word although they do have a residual value because the front sub-frame
with its rack & pinion steering and flexible engine accommodation is prized for all sort of purposes and many have been cannibalized for this
assembly alone. Fluffy dice are
available also in designer colors (right) and as well as the familiar dots,
there are some with hearts, skulls, handguns, eyes and dollar signs. Probably, the Mustang II and fluffy dice are a perfect match.
Although the five-dot pattern on a di is known in the
industry as the quincunx, the other five faces enjoy rather more prosaic
descriptions and most just use the number:
1 (single dot, at the center of
the face): The “center dot” or “monad”.
2 (two dots, diagonally
opposite each other): The “diagonal pair”.
3 (three dots, forming a
diagonal line): The “diagonal trio”.
4 (four dots, arranged in a square pattern: The “square”
or “quadrant”.
6 (six dots, arranged in two parallel vertical lines of
three dots each): The “double row” or “paired trios”.
US Army five star insignia of (General of the Army) Dwight
Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961).
The quincunx was one of the
layouts considered in 1944 when, for the first time, the US military created
five star ranks in the army and navy (there would not be a separate USAF (US Air
Force) until 1947). Eventually a pentagrammatic
circle of stars was preferred but the aesthetics of epaulettes were the least
of the problems of protocol, the military been much concerned with history and
tradition and the tangle wasn’t fully combed out until 1976 when the Congress,
the White House, and the Pentagon, acting in succession, raised George
Washington (1732–1799; first president of the United States, 1789-1797) to the
rank of five star general (he’d retired as a (three star) lieutenant general),
back-dating the appointment so he’d for all time be the military’s senior
officer. In 1944, there was also an
amusing footnote which, according to legend, resulted in the decision to use
the style “general” and not “Marshal” (as many militaries do) because the first
to be appointed was George Marshall (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff
1939-1945) and it was thought “Marshal Marshall” would be a bit naff, something
Joseph Heller’s (1923-1999) “Major Major” in Catch-22 (1961) would prove.
The quincunx induction system, the Cadillac Le Monstre and the 24 Heures du Mans, 1950

Living up to the name: The 1950 Cadillac Le Monstre.
The two Cadillacs which in 1950 raced at Le Mans were mechanically similar but visually, could have been from different planets. The more conventional Petit Pataud was a Series 61 coupe with only minor modification and it gained its nickname (the translation “clumsy puppy” best captures the spirit) because to the French it looked a lumbering thing but, as its performance in the race would attest, Cadillac’s new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 (which would in modified form grow to 429 cubic inches (7.0 litres) before it was retired in 1967) meant it was faster than it looked. Underneath the second entrant (Le Monstre obviously needing no translation but used in the sense of “monstrosity” rather than “large”) there was also a Series 61 but the body had been replaced by something more obviously aerodynamic although few, then or now, would call it “conventionally attractive”. Although Le Monstre seemed very much in the tradition of the “cucumber-shaped” Mercedes-Benz SSKL which had won the 1932 race at Berlin’s unique AVUS circuit, the lines were the result of testing a one twelfth (Uncia in the Latin) scale wooden model in a wind-tunnel used usually to optimize the shape of crop dusters and other slow-flying airplanes. Presumably that explains the resemblance to a section of an airplane’s wing (a shape designed to encourage lift), something which would have been an issue had higher speeds been attained but even on the long (6 km (3.7 mile)) Mulsanne Straight, there was in 1950 enough power only to achieve around 210 km/h (130) mph although as a drag-reduction exercise it must have contributed to the 22 km/h (13 mph) advantage it enjoyed over Petit Pataud, something Le Monstre’s additional horsepower alone could not have done and remarkably, even with the minimalist aluminium skin it wasn’t much lighter than the standard-bodied coupe because this was no monocoque; the robust Cadillac chassis was retained with a tube-frame added to support the panels and provide the necessary torsional stiffness.

Le Monstre's 331 cubic inch V8 with its unusual (though not unique) five-carburetor induction system in a quincunx layout.
Some of the additional horsepower came from the novel "quincunx" induction system. Le Monstre’s V8 was configured with five carburettors, the idea being that by use of progressive throttle-linkages, when ultimate performance wasn’t required the car would run on a single (central) carburettor, the other four summoned on demand and in endurance racing, improved fuel economy can be more valuable than additional power. That’s essentially how most four-barrel carburettors worked, two venturi usually providing the feed with all four opened only at full throttle and Detroit would later refine the model by applying “méthode Le Monstre” to the triple carburettor systems many used between 1957-1971. As far as is known, the only time a manufacturer flirted with the idea of a five carburetor engine was Rover which in the early 1960s was experimenting with a 2.5 (153 cubic inch) litre in-line five cylinder which was an enlargement of their 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) four. Fuel-injection was the obvious solution but the systems then were prohibitively expensive (for the market segment Rover was targeting) so the prototypes ended up with two carburettors feeding three cylinders and one the other two, an arrangement as difficult to keep in tune as it sounds. Rover’s purchase of the aluminium 3.5 litre (214 cubic inch) V8 abandoned by General Motors (GM) meant the project was terminated and whatever the cylinder count, mass-produced fuel injection later made any configuration possible. Five carburettors wasn’t actually the highest count seen in the pre fuel-injection era, Ferrari and Lamborghini both using six (done also by motorcycle manufacturers such as Honda and Benelli) and Moto-Guzzi in the 1950s fielded a 500 cm3 Grand-Prix bike with the memorable component count of 8 cylinders, 4 camshafts, 16 valves & 8 carburetors. The early prototypes of Daimler’s exquisite hemi-head V8s (1959-1969) were also built with eight carburettors because the original design was based on a motorcycle power-plant, the reason why they were planned originally as air-cooled units.

Le Monstre ahead of Petit Pataud, Le Mans, 1950. At the fall of the checkered flag, the positions were reversed.
Motor racing is an unpredictable business and, despite all the effort lavished on Le Monstre, in the 1950 Le Mans 24 hour, it was the less ambitious Petit Pataud which did better, finishing a creditable tenth, the much modified roadster coming eleventh having lost many laps while being dug from the sand after an unfortunate excursion from the track. Still, the results proved the power and reliability of Cadillac’s V8 and Europe took note: over the next quarter century a whole ecosystem would emerge, crafting high-priced trans-Atlantic hybrids which combined elegant European coachwork with cheap, powerful, reliable US V8s, the lucrative fun lasting until the first oil crisis began in 1973.
Intake manifold (5 x 2 barrel) for the first generation (1969-1964) Oldsmobile V8 with Rochester-style carburetor mounting flanges.
A tiny lunatic fringe of the hot rod community did in the 1950s make use of Le Monstre's five-carburetor quincunx atop V8 engines and they were more ambitious still, using two barrel carburettors so that means ten throats for eight cylinders which sounds excessive but, as configured, the arrangement did make sense. They generally used standard intake manifolds, modified to the extent of retaining the central unit in its stock positing while installing the other four in an extended X, all five often the familiar Rochester 2GC two-barrel. What all this plumbing and hardware provided was an early form of the variable fuel metering now effortlessly delivered by modern electronic fuel injection in that the centre unit meant relatively economical operation and civilized characteristics for urban use while the four outboard took over under heavy throttle application, each located directly over an intake port for optimal distribution of the fuel air mix. Synchronising multiple carburetors can of course be challenging when there’s two or three so five sounds worse but the configuration did simplify things because only the central one had to be adjusted for idle and part-throttle use while the outer four were tuned only for high throughput. There was however the need to engineer a mechanical throttle linkage operating in two planes and while this became for years a common fitting on systems with three two barrels or two four barrels, with five in a quincunx the machinery was bulky and intricate and given the advantages of five turned out to be marginal at best, the idea never caught one and the systems are now just curiosities to be admired by those who adore intricacy for its own sake.

1953 Ford X-100: With roof panel retracted (it was “targa” before told us there were Targas (left), the five carburetor apparatus atop the 317 cubic inch (5.2 litre) Lincoln Y-Block V8 (centre) and the built-in hydraulic jacking system in use (right).
It wasn’t only the one-off Le Mans Cadillac or crazy hot-rodders who took the quincunx path, the apparatus appearing also on the 1953 Ford X-100. In the years to come, such a thing would be called a “concept car” but that term didn’t then exist so Ford used the more familiar “dream car” and that does seem a more romantic way of putting it. Reflecting the optimistic spirit of the early post-war years, the X-100 included a number of innovations including the use of radial-ply tyres, a built-in hydraulic jacking system, a rain-sensor which automatically would trigger an electric motor to close the sliding plexiglass roof panel, a built-in dictaphone, a telephone in the centre console and the convenience of heated seats and an electric shaver mounted in the glove compartment. Some of the features became mainstream products, some not and while the “variable volume horn” wasn’t picked up by the industry, one did appear on the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100; 1963-1981) although that was a rare supportive gesture. It was also an age of imaginative labels and Ford called their quincunx induction system the “Multi-Plex”; while the engineering proved a cul-de-sac, the name did later get picked up by multi-screen suburban cinema complexes. For the X-100, Ford used a central Holly two-barrel while the outer four were Ford model 94 two-barrels. X-100 still exists and is displayed at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

1969 Mercury Marauder X-100. In 1969, the blacked-out trunk (boot) lid and surrounds was standard on X-100 and optional on other models. In 1970 it became a “delete option” (an option which seems often to have been exercised).
In a number of quirky coincidences, the name X-100 seems to once have been an industry favourite because as well as the 1953 Ford “dream car”, it was the US Secret Service’s designation for the 1961 Lincoln Continental parade convertible in which John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Dallas, Texas. One might have thought that macabre association might have been enough for the “X-100” tag to not again be used but, presumably because the Secret Service’s internal codes weren’t then general public knowledge, in 1969 Ford’s Mercury division released an X-100 as an up-market version of its second generation (1969-1970) Marauder. Notionally, the X-100 was a “high performance” version but its 365 (gross) horsepower 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 was an option in lesser priced Marauders which meant the X-100, weighed down by the additional luxury fittings, was just a little slower than the cheaper models with the 429. The market for “full-sized” high performance cars was anyway by 1969 in the final stages of terminal decline and although an encouraging 5635 were sold in 1969, sales the next year fell to 2646 and the X-100 was retired at the end of the 1970 and not replaced. Most bizarre though was project X-100, a US$75 million (then a lot of what was at the time borrowed money) contract in 1943 awarded to Chrysler to design, machine and nickel-plate the inner surfaces of the cylindrical diffusers required to separate uranium isotopes. Part of the Manhattan Project which built the world’s first atomic bombs, Chrysler built over 3,500 diffusers used at the plant in Oak Ridge, Tennessee and many were still in service as late as the 1980s. Not until after the first A-bomb was used against Hiroshima in August 1945 did most of the X-100 project’s workers become aware of the use being made of the precision equipment they were producing.