The car in my driveway, a BMW 335d sedan, is a reminder that the primacy of the gasoline-burning internal-combustion engine is nearing its end. Diesels, of course, have been with us a very long time. In fact, all the technologies we're exploring now have very ancient roots. Even the fuel cell first saw the light in the mid-19th century.
We're being invaded by a new generation of very fuel-efficient, high-performance diesels from Europe, and BMW, Audi and Mercedes would all tell you that, in their view, diesels are better than hybrids. The $43,900 335d gets 23 mpg in the city but a stellar 36 on the highway (27 combined), and it also can deliver 0 to 60 in six seconds.
On the highway, you'd never know the 335d was a diesel. It doesn't hesitate, it doesn't smoke, and it offers instant-on power and great handling. It's not cheap, but it's a very sophisticated machine that could convince you to consider a diesel. Another minor plus is a $900 federal tax credit.
The first diesels were somewhat rougher. Rudolph Diesel patented his engine (which initially ran on peanut oil) in 1892, and by 1896 he had perfected it well enough to be commercially successful. Within two years, he was a wealthy man, with the motor being used on cars, trucks, boats and many other applications.
The electric car's origins are a little bit murkier, but no less interesting. According to PBS, Scotsman Robert Anderson built the first electric carriage (with non-rechargeable batteries!) circa 1832. By 1835, the scene shifted to America, inventor Thomas Davenport and the first practical electric vehicle: a locomotive.
Gaston Planté came up with the first rechargeable lead-acid battery in France in 1859, and another Frenchman, Camille Fauré, improved the invention and came up with the lead-acid storage battery as we know it. Electric cars were viable by the 1890s.
There were electric taxis in New York by 1895, and Hartford-based Pope was the first large-scale manufacturer. It was, in fact, Colonel Albert A. Pope who famously said, "You can't get people to sit over an explosion." He was wrong about that — if Pope had bet on gas cars, Hartford might have become Detroit.