For centuries, inventors have sought to create machines that could run forever without any external source of energy. These so-called “perpetual motion machines” were considered the holy grail of engineering, as they promised a solution to all energy problems. While modern thermodynamics has definitively shown that such machines are impossible, during the Middle Ages and early modern period, they still seemed within reach.
Many attempts throughout history either failed to function as intended or turned out to be carefully crafted hoaxes. Johann Bessler’s rotating wheel is widely believed to fall into the latter category—yet exactly how it worked remains a mystery. What made Bessler’s invention particularly remarkable was its ability to convince prominent intellectuals and political leaders of the era, including renowned mathematicians like Gottfried Leibniz, Johann Bernoulli, and Willem 's Gravesande, as well as the ruling prince of the German state of Hesse-Kassel.
Workings of Bessler’s wheel. Credit: Das Triumphirende Perpetuum mobile Orffyreanum
Johann Bessler was born in 1680 to a peasant family near the town of Zittau, in Upper Saxony. After leaving school—where he excelled according to his own admission—he began wandering from town to town, trying his hand at a variety of trades. During his travels, Bessler reportedly saved an alchemist from drowning in a well and was rewarded with instruction in the preparation of elixirs. He soon gained a reputation as a healer and adopted the pseudonym Orffyreus by arranging the letters of the alphabet in a circle and choosing those directly opposite the letters of his surname, which he then Latinized to "Orffyreus."
The story goes that Orffyreus was visiting a monastery in Italy where he came across a rotating spit in the kitchen that supposedly turned by itself. The experience sparked a lifelong obsession with the idea of perpetual motion. However, poverty forced him to leave Italy and take up work as a watchmaker. But it was his skills as a medicine man that turned his life around. Once when the itinerant Orffyreus was visiting the town of Annaberg, he learned that the town’s mayor and physician was desperate to cure his gravely ill daughter. Orffyreus offered his services and succeeded in healing the girl, winning her heart and her father’s gratitude in the process. The girl subsequently became Orffyreus’s wife, which brought Orffyreus into much wealth and social standing.
In 1712, Johann Bessler appeared in the town of Gera, in the province of Reuss, where he unveiled a small wheel that he claimed could turn on its own, powered by an ingenious internal mechanism. The wheel measured about six feet in diameter and four inches in width, rotating on a horizontal axle at a constant speed of 60 revolutions per minute. With a rope wound around the axle, the wheel was capable of lifting several pounds of weight.
The device was examined by several individuals of “impeccable reputation,” including the Count and Countess of Reuss, along with doctors, professors, and various local noblemen and dignitaries. Despite close inspection, no one could detect any hidden source of power or evidence of fraud. The observers concluded that the machine was genuine and declared it “highly useful.”
In 1713, Bessler relocated to Draschwitz, a village near Leipzig, where he constructed an even larger wheel—slightly over nine feet in diameter and six inches wide. This version could rotate at 50 revolutions per minute and was capable of lifting a 40-pound weight. The new demonstrations drew considerable attention, including from the eminent mathematician Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, who travelled to Draschwitz to witness the invention firsthand. Impressed, he later wrote to Robert Erskine—personal physician and scientific advisor to Tsar Peter the Great of Russia—expressing his belief that Orffyreus’s wheel was a valuable invention.
Workings of Bessler’s wheel. Credit: Das Triumphirende Perpetuum mobile Orffyreanum
Two years later, Bessler constructed a still larger wheel in Merseburg. This wheel was about 11 feet across and 11 inches wide and turned at 42 revolutions per minute. Eminent German philosopher Christian Wolff, who was present during one of the wheel’s demonstrations, later wrote:
When the machine was ready to rotate, all adjacent rooms were opened and the bearings were completely uncovered. To prevent anyone accidentally seeing the internal structure of the machine, he covered it. Whilst he did this, he did not disguise the fact that the mechanism is moved by weights. Several such weights, wrapped in his handkerchief, he let us weigh in our hands to estimate their weight. They were judged to be about four pounds each, and their shape was definitely cylindrical.
I conclude, not only from this but also from other circumstantial evidence, that the weights are attached to some moveable or elastic arms on the periphery of the wheel. During rotation, one can clearly hear the weights hitting against the wooden boards. I was able to observe these boards through a slit. They are slightly warped. When he put the wheel onto another support and reinstalled the weights in their previous positions, he pushed down on an iron spring that gave a loud noise as it expanded upwards.
That same year—1715—Bessler allowed his machine to be investigated. Following the investigation, a committee of 12 distinguished investigators signed a certificate stating that Bessler's wheel was a true perpetual motion, having the ability to turn in either direction, easily started but requiring great effort to stop its motion and generating enough power to raise a 70 pound box of stones. The committee submitted a very compelling account of the investigation, which you can read below:
The inventor first put in motion his six ells (~11 feet) in diameter and one foot thick machine which was still resting on the same wooden support upon which it had previously been mounted. It was stopped and restarted, turned left and right as many times as was requested by the commissaries or the spectators. The machine was started by a very light push with just two fingers and accelerated as one of the weights, hidden inside, began to fall. Gradually, within about one revolution, the machine acquired a powerful and even rotation, which continued until it was forcefully brought to a stop again; the machine preserved the same rapid motion when lifting a box filled with six whole bricks weighing together about 70 pounds. The weight was lifted by means of a rope conducted through a window by means of a pulley. The box was lifted as many times as was requested. Furthermore the inventor, Orffyreus, in the presence of all, lifted the machine described above from its original wooden support. The timber posts were carefully examined from both top and bottom, as well as in the middle, particularly where a small cut was noticed. The same careful examination was devoted to the trunnions, the shaft, and to the bearings. During the inspection, not the slightest indication of imposture or deceit was found, rather everything was found to be right, complete, and without fault.
As further proof of its internal or inherent motive power, the machine was translocated to another support in such a way that the trunnions on both sides of the axle were laid uncovered in the open sockets. The whole assembly could see over and under, and both sides of the machine; and all present were invited to inspect the bearings, but no holes were found. All present examined them with their eyes, but no sign of fraud was seen. It was possible to translocate the machine and turn it left and right as many times as was asked by the respectable Commission. The machine regained its strong, fast, even rotation each time. The movement was accompanied by quite a loud noise that lasted until the machine was brought to a forced stop. Thus nothing suspicious happened.
Finally, it should be noted that right at the start, before the machine was subject to any testing, all rooms above, below, and on either side were examined by the Commission. It was also verified that the stamps were not hollow, and no indication of any mechanism moved by a cord was found.
Shortly after, Bessler moved to the independent state of Hesse-Kassel, where Prince Karl, the reigning Landgrave and an enthusiastic patron of mechanical inventors, appointed him as a commercial councillor in the town of Kassel and granted him accommodations in Weissenstein Castle. It was there, in 1717, that Bessler constructed his largest wheel to date—twelve feet in diameter and fourteen inches thick—and it was also there that his invention underwent its most rigorous test.
In response to persistent accusations that the wheel was secretly powered by some hidden mechanism, Prince Karl ordered it relocated to a large hall in the heart of the castle. The room, originally built for defensive purposes, featured stone walls four feet thick and a single small entrance, making it easy to seal and guard during the test. To counter claims that the device might be driven by a concealed person or animal, the Prince decreed that the test should last a full fortnight.
Before the trial began, a panel of highly respected investigators, assembled by the Prince himself, conducted a thorough two-day inspection. The wheel and its bearings were examined in detail. The apparatus was stopped and restarted, moved to different positions within the room, and scrutinized from every angle for signs of trickery. No evidence of fraud was found.
On November 12, the machine was put into motion and the door was locked and officially sealed with wax. Two military guards were stationed outside the entrance to ensure it remained undisturbed. On November 26, the investigators verified that the seals were undisturbed and entered the room to find the wheel spinning at 26 revolutions per minute. They stopped the wheel, inspected it, and restarted it. The room was once more sealed and placed under guard.
On January 4, 1718—fifty-four days after the initial sealing—the examiners suddenly requested access to the room. The seals showed no signs of tampering. Upon entering the room, the group found the wheel continuing as before in its uninterrupted motion.
Johann Bessler
News of the feat spread quickly. Willem 's Gravesande, a distinguished Dutch mathematician and astronomer, wrote immediately to Sir Isaac Newton, declaring his belief that the wheel was not driven by any external force. Other visitors from London, including prominent instrument makers, came to Kassel and were similarly impressed. Enthusiasts proposed forming a joint-stock company to commercialize the invention, and reports began circulating in London about a perpetual motion scheme backed by an initial capital of one million pounds.
But the excitement was short-lived. The day after the final demonstration, Bessler, enraged by suspicions that ’s Gravesande was attempting to uncover the secret without paying for it, Bessler smashed the wheel to pieces. Despite this dramatic turn, ’s Gravesande remained Bessler’s most devoted supporter. When a few years later, one of Orffyreus’s maid ran away from her employer’s home and revealed that the wheels had always been turned from an adjacent room, it was Willem 's Gravesande who defended Bessler. She alleged that the support posts had been hollowed out to conceal a long, thin iron rod, barbed at the bottom and connected to the wheel’s axle, but ‘s Gravesande responded:
They say that a servant under oath, turned Orffyreus' machine, she being in an adjoining room. I know perfectly well that Orffyreus is mad, but I have no reason to think him an imposter... This I know, as certainly as anything in the world, that if the servant says the above, she tells a great falsehood... [During the examination,] I ordered the machine be dismounted from its supports, and we saw the bearings uncovered. I examined the bearings on which the journals rested and there did not appear any trace of communication with the adjoining room. I remember very distinctly the whole set of circumstances regarding that investigation.
During official demonstrations, hundreds of respected and impartial observers examined the wheel and its bearings with great care. Many attested that no evidence of fraud could be found, even when the wheel was moved from one set of supports to another. Nevertheless, the maid’s testimony forever tarnished Bessler's reputation.
Bessler continued to sell his invention under new guise. In 1738, he announced three new devices, each allegedly based on the same principle of perpetual motion—a fountain that flowed perpetually from still water, a large musical organ that played on its own, and the "Orffyrean ship” or special preservation device which could save lives and goods after a shipwreck.
In 1744 Bessler began constructing a windmill in Fürstenburg, Germany, under the patronage of Karl I, King of Prussia. While working on the windmill in 1745, at the age of 65, Bessler fell to his death, taking the secret of his mysterious wheel with him.
Possible Explanations
Orffyreus’s wheel is possibly one of the finest and most convincing illusions anybody has ever pulled. Exactly how Bessler managed to achieve it, however, remains a mystery.
The most straightforward explanation is that the wheel was driven by an external force via a concealed mechanism, such as a hidden crank operated by an accomplice. Such a setup would have been relatively easy to arrange in Bessler’s own residence, but replicating it within the secure and heavily constructed confines of Weissenstein Castle would have posed significant architectural challenges and carried a high risk of exposure.
Moreover, the numerous individuals who inspected the device, including scientists, nobles, and engineers, consistently reported that the bearings were open to view and showed no sign of tampering. Still, such eyewitness testimony is far from infallible. Even intelligent, well-meaning observers, including respected figures in the scientific community, can be misled by carefully orchestrated illusions.
A contemporary drawing speculating how the wheel might have been powered. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Another theory holds that the wheel may have been powered by a tightly wound spring. Bessler had once worked as a clockmaker and would have been well acquainted with the design and construction of such mechanisms. Spring-driven and weight-driven clocks had existed for centuries, and some were capable of running for extended periods without rewinding. However, the energy stored in a spring must be released in extremely small amounts, meaning all moving components must be exceptionally lightweight and low-friction. As a result, these timepieces are typically capable of doing little more than sustaining their own operation.
In contrast, Bessler’s wheel was frequently demonstrated lifting substantial weights with little or no impact on its rotational speed. This presents a serious challenge to the spring hypothesis. Furthermore, eyewitnesses consistently reported that the wheel could be set into motion with a light push with just two fingers and that it would accelerate quickly, reaching full speed within a single revolution. It is difficult to imagine how a spring-powered mechanism could have produced that kind of performance.
Some have speculated that if conventional explanations fail to fully resolve the mystery of Bessler’s wheel, then perhaps he stumbled upon a discovery far ahead of his time, something akin to an electric battery or another source of energy. In such a scenario, the wheel would not have been a true perpetual motion machine, but it might still have represented a significant breakthrough. If Bessler had indeed uncovered a novel way to generate or store power, his invention, though misunderstood, could have had genuine scientific value.
Johann Bessler: Genius or Charlatan?
The evidence against Johann Bessler's wheel being a genuine perpetual motion machine is largely circumstantial but compelling when viewed through the lens of modern science, historical testimony, and the broader context of Bessler’s behaviour.
While thermodynamics wasn’t formulated in Bessler’s time, we now know that a perpetual motion machine of the first kind, which produces more energy than it consumes, violates the First Law of Thermodynamics. Even if Bessler discovered some unknown energy source, the absence of exhaust or energy loss violates the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which says that no machine can be 100% efficient, let alone produce work forever without energy input. So any claim to the contrary is immediately suspect unless extraordinary proof is offered.
Bessler never allowed anyone to inspect the internal workings of the wheel without a large upfront payment. When suspicion arose that Willem ’s Gravesande might be secretly trying to discover the wheel’s inner workings, Bessler smashed the machine himself. This destroyed what could have been the ultimate proof or disproof of its operation. Such behaviour aligns more with protecting a deception than safeguarding a genuine scientific breakthrough. Besides, Bessler’s adopted persona of a mystical inventor and healer, who frequently moved locations, fits the classic profile of an ingenious trickster, rather than a forthright scientist.
Bessler’s wheel cannot be reconciled with modern physics, and the available historical record leans strongly toward it being a cleverly constructed fraud.
References:
# Alejandro Jenkins. "The mechanical career of Councillor Orffyreus, confidence man", American Journal of Physics
# Simon Schaffer. “The Show That Never Ends: Perpetual Motion in the Early Eighteenth Century”, The British Journal for the History of Science
# Besslerwheel.com
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