Cold Open

It’s the afternoon of September 3rd, 1864, at a chemical plant in Stockholm, Sweden.

30-year-old Alfred Nobel takes a small beaker of pale, oily liquid and holds it up to the light. Alfred’s spent a lot of time in laboratories like this, conducting experiments for his family’s chemical business. But today, his hands tremble as he pours a small amount of the yellow liquid into another test tube—because this substance he holds in his hands is highly explosive nitroglycerin.

Eighteen years ago, an Italian chemist was the first to create nitroglycerin in a laboratory. Scientists soon realized that the new chemical could be a useful explosive for the construction industry. But nitroglycerin's highly volatile nature also made it dangerous to work with. So over the past few months, Alfred’s been conducting experiments with the chemical in the hope of making it more stable. If he can make it safer, he figures his family’s business will stand to make a fortune.

Alfred gingerly places the test tube in a rack on his workbench. Then, he tries to set the beaker down just as carefully.

A huge explosion rocks the lab and knocks him to the floor.

With his head ringing, Alfred climbs unsteadily to his feet. He frowns in confusion because the test tube and beaker are still on the workbench. Only then does Alfred realize that the explosion came from outside the laboratory, in another part of the chemical plant.

Alfred rushes out of his lab. And at once he can see black smoke rising above the shed where the company's explosives are made. That shed is where Alfred’s brother is working.

The door is hanging off its hinges. And the thick smoke means Alfred can’t see much. He covers his mouth and rushes inside, but he’s barely got more than a few feet in before he trips over a large wooden beam that’s fallen from the ceiling—and lying underneath it is the lifeless body of his brother.

His brother’s death won’t be enough to make Alfred Nobel give up on his quest to produce a stable, usable form of nitroglycerin. Instead, he’ll work even harder. And eventually, Alfred’s experiments will yield results and make him a very wealthy man. But when the end of Alfred’s life approaches, he’ll be determined to leave behind a legacy beyond explosives. Alfred will decide to give his name to an award honoring the achievements of humankind, and he’ll bequeath his vast fortune to fund it on November 27th, 1895.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is November 27th, 1895: The Genesis of the Nobel Prize.

Act One: A Fortune

It’s October 10th, 1865, in the hills of Krummel, Germany, a year after the death of Alfred Nobel’s brother.

Alfred walks through a building site, clutching blueprints of a new industrial complex. A group of German officials follow in his wake, making careful notes. And when Alfred reaches the foundations of a building that will be used to store volatile chemicals, he turns to the German officials and points to the solid walls currently under construction. Alfred explains that these will be thick enough to contain any blast caused by the nitroglycerin that will be made here.

After Alfred’s younger brother died at his family’s chemical plant in Stockholm, the Swedish authorities banned the Nobel Company from producing any more explosives. But it was a lucrative part of the business and one they couldn’t afford to lose. So, Alfred looked overseas for somewhere to build a new factory. Today, he’s here in Germany to check the new site—but before construction can progress any further, he first must gain permission from the German authorities. Given nitroglycerin’s dangerous reputation and what happened in Sweden, the German officials want reassurance that Alfred will run the factory in a safe manner.

So as Alfred continues his tour, he emphasizes the plant’s remote location far from any major town, and how the buildings in the complex will be spread far apart to prevent fires from spreading.

Eventually, the German officials are satisfied and they grant permission for the chemical plant to proceed. Alfred encourages his crew to speed up work on construction.

A few months later, the new plant is finished—but it doesn’t remain pristine for long. Within only a few months of its opening, several buildings are leveled in another explosion when a store of nitroglycerin detonates unexpectedly.

So until Alfred can prove he has a safe product, few people are willing to buy anything from the Nobel Company. So, Alfred redoubles his efforts to tame the volatile nitroglycerin. He builds a new laboratory in Germany and resumes the experiments he started in Sweden. Knowing that nitroglycerin's liquid form makes it more unstable, Alfred tries mixing it into a paste. He experiments using cement, coal, and sawdust as thickening agents, but nothing seems to work. Some materials don’t mix with the nitroglycerin at all and others lessen the power of the explosion or make it more difficult to detonate.

In 1867, more than a year after opening his new German factory, Alfred is still no closer to success. And when he feels a headache coming on from all his work, he decides to take a walk in the fresh air. As he explores the surrounding area, Alfred notices that the Nobel plant is surrounded by sand that’s heavily imbued with algae. Alfred rubs the sand through his fingers and notices its unusual consistency. On a hunch, Alfred takes a sample of the sand back to his lab and tries combining it with nitroglycerin. The result is a paste that’s stable but retains its explosive power.

Alfred’s nitroglycerin paste forms the core of a new explosive that he names dynamite. Since dynamite is more powerful than traditional explosives like gunpowder, it’s quickly adopted by construction workers, miners, and engineers across the world. And this new blasting agent soon becomes the Nobel Company’s biggest seller and makes Alfred a wealthy man.

But despite the fortune he accumulates from selling dynamite, Alfred is far from happy. Although dynamite is safer than the liquid form of nitroglycerin, it is still a dangerous explosive. Countless lives are lost by workers who are unfamiliar with the new and powerful blasting agent. And it also doesn’t take long for the military to see the potential in dynamite. Soon, armies around the world are developing weapons with far greater range and destructive capacity than anything seen before - all thanks to Alfred’s invention. And he is disappointed to see that his work used to take lives rather than benefit them, and he sinks into a depression.

Hoping that a change of scenery might shake him from his gloom, Alfred moves to Paris. But living in the French capital does little. Alfred is plagued by poor health and he becomes increasingly paranoid, suspecting that people who try to befriend him are only after his money.

Eventually, Alfred’s elder brother suggests that he find a paid companion—a housekeeper and secretary who can attend to Alfred’s needs and make his life a little less solitary. Although Alfred knows he’s picky and short-tempered, he’s also aware that he’s unhappy, and he’s willing to try something new. So, he places an ad in a newspaper inviting applications for a live-in housekeeper and secretary.

Soon, letters will begin to arrive at Alfred’s apartment. But it’ll take a special applicant to convince Alfred to hire them. Still one will stand out from the rest—a person who’ll not only find a special place in Alfred’s heart but who’ll also end up changing his legacy forever.

Act Two: The Author and the Scientist

It’s 1876 in a hotel in Paris, France, three weeks after Alfred Nobel placed an ad in a local paper.

Now 43 years old, Alfred adds heaped teaspoons of sugar to his coffee. The staff here know Alfred, and they’ve been told by their manager to make sure he is looked after. But Alfred bristles at the waiters buzzing around him, thinking they only want one thing, his money.

For the past couple of weeks, Alfred has been distracted from his paranoia by corresponding with Bertha Kinsky, a 32-year-old Austrian governess. Bertha had replied to Alfred’s message seeking a housekeeper and secretary. And in contrast to the dozens of other young women who responded, Alfred didn’t immediately discount Bertha’s application. Her letter demonstrated a sharp intellect and a way with words. And now, Alfred is waiting for Bertha to arrive for a face-to-face interview to see if she’s as impressive in person as she was on paper.

A movement at the door catches Alfred’s attention. A young woman walks into the hotel lobby, casts her eye over the room, and immediately starts walking toward Alfred. He’s impressed by her self-assured manner. As Bertha takes a seat and chides Alfred for the amount of sugar he’s adding to his coffee. Alfred normally takes umbrage at any criticism, but he accepts the reprimand from Bertha in good grace.

Over the next hour, Alfred learns more about Bertha’s background. She explains how she moved to Paris after her mixed Czech–Austrian heritage meant she was excluded from high society in her homeland. Bertha tells Alfred of her hobbies, including her love for playing the piano and her ambition to write a novel one day.

When it’s Alfred’s turn to speak, he talks passionately about his latest invention. Gelignite is an improvement on dynamite which Alfred believes will be safer and more productive than any blasting agent on Earth. Bertha nods along and asks pertinent questions, showing that she understands the complex chemistry that Alfred’s worked on for years.

When the interview is over, Alfred stands and shakes Bertha’s hand. He doesn’t need to consider any more applicants. And he offers Bertha the job on the spot - and she accepts.

After Bertha moves into Alfred’s apartment, his depression starts to lift. He looks forward to the evenings when he invites Bertha to sit with him. They discuss the news of the day, and Alfred marvels at how Bertha pushes him into new ways of thinking about topics he had always been rigid and certain about.

A regular item of conversation is international relations and the growing tension between European nations. Both Alfred and Bertha consider themselves to be pacifists, but they approach their position from opposite directions. Alfred hopes that the enormous destructive power of the explosives he’s invented will convince governments to negotiate rather than risk war. But Bertha dismisses Alfred’s theory and argues that disarmament is the only way to ensure peace.

But these disagreements don’t make Alfred think any less of Bertha. In fact, he soon finds himself falling in love with her. After a few weeks, Alfred can’t keep his feelings hidden any longer. Over dinner, Alfred tells Bertha that he harbors romantic affection for her. Bertha pauses as she takes in this information. Then, she dabs at her mouth with a napkin. She apologizes if she gave Alfred the wrong impression, then explains she’s in love with someone else back in Austria. With tears in her eyes, she confesses that she only took this job to save enough money to elope with her lover.

Alfred is crushed. But he places his hand on top of hers and tells her the fault is his. She must go to the man she loves and that he will do all he can to help them marry. He has only one condition—that she writes to him often, and that they remain friends always.

After Alfred’s revelation, Bertha leaves his employment and soon marries her lover, becoming Bertha von Suttner. But she keeps her promise. And for the next two decades, Alfred and Bertha write to each other regularly. In 1889, one of Bertha’s letters includes a copy of her first novel, Lay Down Your Arms! Alfred devours the book in a matter of hours and finds himself nodding along in agreement with the novel’s antiwar stance.

Bertha’s novel also stirs something inside Alfred. Now aged 55 and with a sense of his own mortality, he wants to ensure that he’s remembered for more than inventing lethal explosives. So, Alfred will soon embark on a new project with a lofty aim that Bertha will heartily approve of: the betterment of humanity and the pursuit of peace.

Act Three: The Greatest Benefit of Mankind

It’s November 27th, 1895, in Paris, France, six years after Bertha Von Suttner published her first novel.

The now 62-year-old Alfred Nobel opens his eyes, squinting at the bright morning light that streams through his window. For the last few days, Alfred has been laid up with a fever. But this morning, though, his head feels a little clearer, and he decides he’s able to get out of bed. But still, Alfred knows his health is in decline, and while he’s been in his sickbed, he’s come to a realization. It’s time to put his affairs in order.

Alfred shuffles to a writing desk and takes out a pen and paper. Then, he begins to craft his last will and testament. Alfred has never married and has no children. And thanks to the success of the Nobel business, the rest of his family is already wealthy enough. So, Alfred has decided that his vast fortune should be used elsewhere.

Alfred writes that he wants his estate to fund a series of awards for scientists, researchers, and writers whose work has most benefited humankind. Then, thinking of his good friend Bertha Von Suttner, Alfred adds one more award to the list: a prize for the pursuit of world peace.

Two weeks later, after he’s recovered from his fever, Alfred signs his will in front of four witnesses. But his health is still fragile. And a year later, Alfred dies after suffering a stroke, and his family reviews his will. But initially, it seems his last wishes risk being ignored. His extended family contests the will, hoping to keep Alfred’s fortune in their hands. But after a protracted legal battle, Alfred’s charitable bequest is upheld.

Five years after Alfred’s death, the first Nobel Prizes will be awarded in a celebration of the world’s most influential minds. And in the decades that follow, Nobel laureates will include Marie Curie, Albert Einstein, and Martin Luther King Jr. But no award would have pleased Alfred Nobel more than the fifth recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize, pacifist writer Bertha Von Suttner —because it was partly due to her friendship that Alfred bequeathed his fortune to establish the Nobel Prizes in the first place, a decision he made on November 27th, 1895.

Outro

Next on History Daily. November 28th, 1925. A radio station in Nashville, Tennessee popularizes country and western music with the first broadcast of the Grand Ole Opry.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Owen Paul Nicholls.

Edited by Scott Reeves.

Managing producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.