Mercedes-Benz Patent Motorwagen review

To drive, first you must start. And the process is a little different to turning a key or prodding a button. The ignition is engaged by turning a screw under the seat, relaxing a metallic bar to make a solid contact, three taps opened to begin the solid drip of lubricating oil. After that, muscle is required - if you want to get a Patent-Motorwagen chugging, you need to spin that flywheel with enough force to overcome the cylinder’s compression and get everything moving. But be careful - if you don’t spin it hard enough, it jerks back violently enough to break a wrist. But suddenly, with a gentle pop and a slight whoosh, the Benz phut-phut-phutters into rocking life. Resisting the urge to shout ‘contact!’ is hard.

Then it’s back up onto the driver’s bench, a quick check of the extremities and an easing of the drive lever forward - you pull back to retard. More phuttering, and the whole thing gently steams itself forwards. The front wheel operates via a geared tiller, and the idea of ‘direct steering’ was basically invented here - you can see the meshed teeth speeding up the handles’ efforts. Weirdly, it’s much better than you may imagine. Precarious, unstable - any attempt at cornering at more than very moderate speeds sends you sliding lightly across the wooden slats of the seat - but there’s a weird intimacy about the engine floofing away under your buttocks, the smell of hot oil and the knowledge of exactly what is doing what to make this contraption move forwards. In modern vehicles there’s more unseen magic than mechanical texture - in the Benz Motorwagen, you’re steeped in the process, not the product.

There aren’t really many analogous elements for a modern roadtester to grab hold of; the ride is non-existent (the thicker your trousers, the better), the ‘roadholding’ a function of the stance rather than the friction of the solid rubber tyres. The performance is … present. Although there’s an argument that this is a true Superleggera, seeing as it only weighs a few hundred kilos. And yet, it’s not hard to see how revolutionary this thing was. When 99 per cent of people used a horse, the Motorwagen was the equivalent of a personal jetpack.