
The first car to exceed 100 mph was the 1904 “Blitzen Benz,” a purpose-built racing car. However, for a commercially available American automobile, the 1935 Auburn 851 S C “Boattail” Speedster is widely recognized as one of the first to be sold with a certified 100+ mph top speed, a landmark achievement during the Great Depression.
This distinction is crucial. The Benz achieved the feat on a racetrack with a specialized machine. Auburn’s accomplishment was delivering that performance to consumers. The Auburn 851 Speedster’s speed was officially certified by the American Automobile Association (AAA) on the sands of Daytona , giving it immense marketing power and credibility.
The car’s performance stemmed from its supercharged Lycoming straight-eight engine. The supercharger, supplied by Schwitzer-Cummins, boosted the 4.6-liter engine’s output to an advertised 150 horsepower. This was exceptional for the era, allowing the large, stylish two-seater to achieve its headline-grabbing speed.
| Feature | Specification | Impact |
|---|---|---|
| Model | 1935 Auburn 851 S C “Boattail” Speedster | Iconic art Deco design by Gordon Buehrig. |
| Engine | Supercharged 4.6L Lycoming Straight-8 | Produced ~150 hp, enabling 100+ mph top speed. |
| Certification | AAA-timed run at Daytona Beach | Provided official, marketable proof of performance. |
| Price (1935) | Approximately $2,245 | Very expensive, targeting affluent buyers. |
While other pre-war European marques like Duesenberg and Mercedes-Benz built faster cars, they were often custom coachbuilt or racing variants. The Auburn’s significance lies in its status as a series-produced model sold through a dealership network with a guaranteed performance claim. It was a halo car designed to elevate the entire Auburn brand.
Its legacy is defined by this blend of verified speed, breathtaking “boattail” styling, and exclusivity. Today, it is a prized collectible, with well-preserved examples frequently selling at auction for figures well into the hundreds of thousands of dollars, a testament to its enduring historical importance.

As a lifelong car enthusiast, the Auburn Speedster has always fascinated me. It wasn’t just a fast car; it was a statement. Imagine a car in 1935, in the middle of the Depression, that came with a factory certificate proving it could hit 100 mph. That’s like buying a spaceship. The supercharger whine, that long hood, the swooping fenders—it was pure theater on wheels. It’s the car that made performance a sellable, tangible dream for the wealthy American buyer.

My research into early automotive milestones consistently highlights the 1904 Blitzen Benz as the first to break 100 mph. The Auburn 851’s claim is more specific and commercially significant. My focus is on how Auburn leveraged this achievement. They didn’t just build a fast car; they engineered a marketing triumph. The official AAA certification was the key. They turned a raw performance number into a trusted, verifiable fact for the customer. This set a precedent for how performance cars would be sold and promoted, shifting the narrative from hearsay to documented proof. The Auburn was less about pioneering the physics of speed and more about pioneering the business of speed.

I own a 1936 Auburn, a later model, and being part of the club teaches you the real story. Talking to experts and reading the original literature, the 851 Speedster’s 100 mph claim was its entire identity. It was a desperate, brilliant move by a company trying to stand out. The supercharger was an add-on unit, not fully integrated, which caused reliability issues some owners grumble about. But when it worked, nothing else on the road looked or sounded like it. It’s a fragile, beautiful artifact of ambition. You don’t drive it for daily errands; you drive it to remember a moment when going fast became a luxury you could buy.

Let’s talk mechanics. The heart of the Auburn’s speed was its supercharger, a Roots-type blower. It forced more air-fuel mixture into the cylinders, creating more power from the same displacement. This wasn’t new technology, but applying it to a production passenger car was bold. The engine itself was a sturdy Lycoming straight-eight, but the forced induction is what pushed it over the century mark. Compared to a modern turbocharger, it was inefficient and created significant heat, but for its time, it was cutting-edge. The chassis, with its leaf springs and beam axles, was hardly designed for that speed, making the achievement even more remarkable. It was about brute-force engine power overcoming chassis limitations, a true snapshot of in transition.


