A Pioneer of the Motor Car:

The Story of Bertha Benz

Ah, the 1886 ‘horseless carriage’… The honoured guest knew every inch of this machine; understood every drop of blood and tears spent to bring it to life, for they were her’s and those of the ones she loved.

Bertha Benz - this elderly lady, graciously accepting birthday wishes - had once declared, “Before me, no automobile existed.”

Historians may shuffle paper and examine timelines, but who could argue? We live in Bertha’s world.

Born to a wealthy family in Pforzheim, Duchy of Baden, on 3 May 1849, Cäcilie Bertha Ringer was an inquisitive child who grew to become a serious, ambitious student at boarding school; curious about the innovations of her age.

At that time, in that place, there was no route to university for women - even one as determined and well-funded as Bertha. Thankfully though, a very particular outlet for her tenacity and brilliance was just about to appear over the horizon.

Carl Benz was a 24 year-old mechanical engineer from Mühlburg, with a bad business partner and big ideas. Perhaps both business and ideas were on his mind when he agreed to go on a social club excursion in June 1869 - perhaps both were shared with Bertha Ringer during that day.

Whatever, she saw the spark in Carl, and a power couple was born. Bertha immediately used her dowry to buy out Carl’s business partner, and the pair were married in July 1872.

Carl would later write, “In marrying, I was joined by an idealist who knew what she wanted in all things, from the insignificant to the weighty.”

More than this, Bertha was the bedrock of a growing family; struggling to make ends meet, encouraging and problem-solving with Carl.

It was Bertha who, on New Year’s Eve 1879 suggested, “Let’s go over to the workshop and try our luck once more.” And when their first internal combustion engine fired to life that evening, they stood together and listened to the future.

Next, onwards towards the dream - an integrated, purpose-built automobile. Days in the workshop - testing incomplete, imperfect systems in the yard - evenings spent winding ignition coils.

By 1885 a complete machine, and a first trial - Carl spluttering across the yard as a cheering Bertha ran behind. Next time, the machine ran out of control, throwing them both clear, before smashing into a wall.

Still Carl and Bertha persisted, and in January 1886 a historic patent was granted for their three-wheeled automobile. The machine now had a name: Benz Patent-Motorwagen.

Fastidious, Carl continued to develop and refine the machine until it was a practical proposition, yet it failed to capture the imagination and find a market. The press scoffed, the church called it the work of the devil.

Something had to be done… Bertha took charge.

Bertha Benz hatched a secret plan. A plan to bypass authority, shake society, and show the world why it needed the Benz Patent Motorwagen.

Also, to give confidence to Carl that their invention was worthy and worthwhile, if only he were to promote it more effectively. She has been financier, engineer and test driver - now Bertha Benz is to become the first automotive PR, and more… it is not yet dawn on Sunday the 5th of August 1888.

Together with her two sons Eugen (15) and Richard (13) she pushes the ‘model 3’ Motorwagen from the workshop and down the alley at the back of their Mannheim home - to avoid the local police, posted to make sure this machine never ventures far from home. The boys will swing the huge flywheel and fire the Benz engine once out of earshot.

At home, Bertha has left a simple, truthful note for sleeping Carl - it says that they have gone to visit her mother in Pforzheim. It will be several hours before he realises that they have not taken the train.

Ahead of Bertha, Eugen and Richard Benz is an epic road trip - the first in history. 106 kilometres on an experimental car with a top speed of 10 miles-per-hour. The journey will be, at best, on carriage routes where the Benz’s single front wheel will bounce and skip on the grass in the middle of the track.

No-one has yet attempted such a distance on an internal combustion engined vehicle. City-to-city drives have not been attempted. The journey is dangerous, unauthorised, illegal and blasphemous…

Bertha Benz didn’t look back. Sharing the driving and maintaining the machine occupied all three of our adventurers.

The Benz required regular water refills for cooling, and returning 25 mpg with a 1.3 gallon tank meant that inevitably Bertha would have to make stops for fuel. But where? How? Which fuel? It has entered legend.

How, twenty miles from Mannheim, Bertha Benz brought her “devil’s machine” to a halt in the village of Wiesloch; banged on doors and asked the apothecary for his entire supply of Ligroin - a petroleum used for cleaning. “For your carriage? You’ll poison your horses.”

How must the locals have looked in wonder at these dust-covered strangers and their alien machine - as the Benz was replenished, then fired and roared into life. Today, the Stadt Apotheke, Wiesloch is recognised as the historical site of the first filling station.

Later in the journey Bertha became aware that the wooden blocks that constituted the Benz’s brakes were wearing significantly. In the next village she stopped and sought out the local shoemaker.

She instructed him to tack leather patches to the wood blocks, to act as a friction material - in doing so Bertha Benz created the first brake linings. On they travelled through the entire day. Uphill sections required young Richard to drive, while Bertha and Eugen pushed the machine.

Later, Bertha would instruct Carl to fit another, lower gear. A blocked fuel line was cleared with Bertha’s hat pin - a frayed ignition lead insulated with her garter.

Finally to Pforzheim, a safe arrival to her mother’s house - and a frantic telegram from Carl. Relieved to hear of their safe arrival, Carl only asked that the car’s chains be rushed back to Mannheim on a fast freight train.

They were needed urgently for a show car. Another show? Another static display? No. Bertha Benz had changed the world - changed the perception of the automobile. People could and should see how it is, not what it is. But if Carl urgently needs the chains, that’s fine.

The remarkable and valiant Bertha Benz jumped into her car and drove home again - the very first person in the world to do so. Bertha Benz had once declared, “Before me, no automobile existed.”

Historians may shuffle paper and examine timelines, but who could argue? We live in Bertha’s world.