BUILDING THE FIRST STEAMBOAT
For the time England and France were at peace. No need now for weapons
of warfare, so Fulton set aside his plan for submarine torpedo-boats
and began to devote his attention to an idea of greater importance,—the
invention of a steamboat.
The thought was not new to him for he had pondered over it since 1793
when he had submitted a description of an original model to Lord
Stanhope. Now he bent all his energies to the task and commenced a series
of new experiments.
He made many sketches of engines, paddles and boats. Some are yet in
existence, notably one made June 5th, 1802. It bears a pen-drawing of a
steamboat, with side paddle-wheels, a forward smokestack, a covered cabin
amidships, with upper deck occupied by imaginary passengers, a pointed
bow and a square stern,—not in reality the shape of the later product
of his skill, but a fanciful sketch of the form then in mind. How far
ahead his imagination darted, in time and space, may be seen from the
inscription, “The Steamboat from New York to Albany in 12 hours.” It was
a brave prediction!
In 1804, when General Armstrong was appointed Minister to France, he
lived in the house formerly occupied by Joel Barlow; and upon the walls
of Fulton’s room he found, plans of steamboats sketched, as a panorama.
Even then the thought had so taken possession of Fulton’s mind that he
lived with it day and night.
By this time Fulton was recognized by thoughtful men as a power to be
considered. At Barlow’s hospitable home Fulton enjoyed the opportunity
of making friends among prominent men; and during 1801 there arrived
in Paris, as Minister Plenipotentiary of the United States, Chancellor
Robert R. Livingston, a noted American statesman and lawyer. The meeting
between Fulton and Livingston, at Barlow’s table, proved important. Mr.
Livingston’s keen intellect had already recognized the importance of
providing boats with steam power. Indeed, he himself had experimented in
the matter, and had caused an Act to be passed by the Legislature in 1798
granting to himself “the exclusive right and privilege of navigating all
kinds of boats which might be propelled by the force of steam or fire,
on all waters of the state of New York, for the term of twenty years
from the passage of the Act; upon consideration that he should within a
twelve-month build such a boat, the mean of whose progress should not be
less than four miles an hour.”
The Act was passed but Livingston’s steamboat was not a success. The
trial boat, of thirty tons’ burden, built by the Chancellor’s orders
by an Englishman named Nesbit, near Tivoli on the Hudson, failed to
run! When the Chancellor met Robert Fulton, this clean-cut, energetic
young countryman who had built a much-talked-of submarine torpedo-boat
recognized by Napoleon, he thought, “Here is the clever man whom I am
seeking!” It is characteristic of great men to notice the mental worth of
others and enlist it in their cause, whatever it may be. And Livingston
quickly learned the rare capacity of Fulton.
There could have been no stronger combination than the partnership of
these two men, formally enacted at Paris, in October, 1802. The original
agreement is signed “Robert R. Livingston of the state of New York, and
Robert Fulton of the state of Pennsylvania.”
Fulton’s part of the contract was:
1st: To build a boat one hundred and twenty feet long, eight feet wide,
to draw fifteen inches of water, to navigate the Hudson River between
New York and Albany, at a speed of eight miles an hour and to carry sixty
passengers, allowing two hundred pounds’ weight per passenger.
2d: To secure a patent, in the name of Robert Fulton; to deposit every
necessary drawing, model and specification, and the patent property when
granted was to be divided in value into one hundred shares, half of which
should be owned by each partner, and all profits equally shared.
3d: To go to England to construct an experimental boat,—if possible
borrowing an engine,—the cost of such boat, five hundred pounds English
currency, to be provided by Livingston. If the boat failed of success,
Fulton was to repay half the sum with seven per cent interest added; if
it succeeded, Fulton was to go to America, obtain a patent, and build a
boat; his “reasonable expenses” to be part of the general expense.
The contract continued as follows:
4th: When the work is finished, either partner may dispose of, or
sell, any number of shares less than forty, but the purchasers, or
shareholders, are to have no vote in the management of the business. All
extensions to be paid from revenue received, and the profits equally
divided twice a year.
5th: The partnership is to continue while the patent lasts, that is,
fourteen years, or as long a term as it extends; at its close, all boats,
warehouses and other property to belong to the shareholders.
6th: If Fulton or Livingston die before the termination of the patent,
each heir or assign, holding twenty shares, shall become an active
partner with power to act.
7th: Livingston reserves the right to withdraw from the partnership
any time after his five hundred pounds have been spent in the first
experiment, but is to be considered a partner until he sends notice in
writing to Fulton.
It is evident that the document was drawn by Livingston, who certainly
made a good bargain. The sole responsibility he took upon himself was
the investment of five hundred pounds—twenty-five hundred dollars—with a
return of one-half the amount, plus seven per cent interest, if Fulton
failed to provide the invention. On the other hand, he was entitled to
receive dividends as long as the patent rights could be extended, if the
invention proved, as it did, financially productive.
For practical reasons, Fulton decided to build his trial boat in Paris,
instead of going over to England. This decision was probably made when he
found that he could borrow, or rent, an engine. Fulton had to consider
expense, for he had spent the money he received from the Panorama upon
his torpedo-boats; and his active mind conceived such vast schemes that
they seemed too costly to all his friends, except Barlow; at times, even
he advised against too great ventures. On July 26th he prudently wrote as
follows:
“My project would be that you pass directly over to England
_silent and steady_, make Chapman construct an engine of 12
inches, while you are building a boat of proportionate size.
Make the experiments on that scale all _quiet and quick_. If it
answers, put the machinery on board a vessel and go directly to
New York, (ordering another engine as large as you please to
follow you) then secure your patent and begin your operation,
first small and then large. I think I will find you the funds
without any noise for the first operation in England and if it
promises well you will get as many funds and friends in America
as you want. I should suggest a small operation first, for
several reasons; it can be made without noise; you can easier
find funds for a small experiment,” etc.
After the contract was signed there was no hesitation on the part of
Fulton; he plunged at once into the task he had anticipated for many
years. As early as 1793 he had written to his friend Lord Stanhope,
giving his first thoughts on the subject,—one part of his long letter
will be enough to quote here; it is of special interest because it shows
that Fulton looked to nature to suggest a practical plan:
“In June, ’93 I begun the experiments on the steamship; my
first design was to imitate the spring in the tail of a
Salmon—for this purpose I supposed a large bow to be wound
up by the steam engine and the collected force, attached to
the end of a paddle—to be let off which would urge the vessel
forward.”
This accords with an old newspaper clipping which states that “the first
rough model of a steamboat made by Fulton in New York was cut out of a
shingle, shaped like a mackerel, with the paddles placed further in front
than behind, like the fins of a fish.”
Of course these “natural propellers” gave ideas to the inventor; he
noticed that a fish with round, unbroken tail is a slow swimmer, while
those which have deeply indented tails, like the mackerel, can make far
greater speed in swimming.
Fulton experimented for nine years before finding the best method; he
did not stumble upon the plan, but patiently worked it out, learning
through each successive test—all noted and recorded,—the correct ratio to
establish between the size of the boat and the power of the machinery.
During the early spring the boat was finished and looked so promising
that Livingston wrote to friends in America to enact an extension
to himself and Fulton, jointly, for the exclusive right to operate
steamboats on the waters of New York State for twenty years, provided the
boat could be produced within two years. Later this time was extended.
Success seemed certain to both Fulton and Livingston. The strange boat
was launched upon the river Seine; the borrowed engine of eight-horse
power was installed; the copper boiler was in place,—and the partners,
disregarding the jeering remarks of ignorant bystanders, were hopeful and
happy in anticipation of the trial trip which was set for an early date.
Naturally, the new invention was talked over by the wise men of the city
who wandered to the dockyard to view the queer-looking boat. It is said
that Prince Tallyrand, during a dinner at Mr. Barlow’s home, sat beside
Robert Fulton and was charmed by his pleasant manner. Fulton’s topic of
conversation—we can imagine his pleasure in the subject—was his invention
of the steamboat upon which he was then at work; and his hope that the
submarine torpedo-boat would end all naval warfare and bring universal
peace. The Prince listened politely but later confessed his sadness in
realizing that the agreeable young American was mad or he would not
devote his time to such impossible schemes! To many Fulton’s dream seemed
utterly vain.
This idea gained strength by the disaster which befell the steamboat just
before the time set for her trial trip. She was completed; and Fulton,
too excited to sleep although wearied by long labor, restlessly awaited
the day to dawn when he could prove her success. During the night a great
storm broke over Paris; the rain fell in torrents accompanied by heavy
winds. At daybreak Fulton was aroused by a breathless messenger whose
anxious face and haste betokened bad news. He was the watchman in charge
of the precious invention. He rushed into Fulton’s bedroom, with the
exclamation:
“Oh, sir, the boat has broken in pieces and gone to the bottom of the
river!”
Fulton arose in dismay, hastily dressed, and rushed to the scene. The
news was all too true! The boat, too weak in structure to bear the heavy
machinery, buffeted by the high waves and heavy winds, had broken in the
middle, depositing the valuable engine and other machinery in the river.
Nothing was in sight above the water!
Fulton later confessed to a dismay never felt at any other time. Many a
man, at this point, would have given up the whole project in despair. But
this crisis of apparent failure was the moment for Fulton’s strength of
character to assert itself. After months of labor the borrowed engine and
Mr. Livingston’s money seemed forever lost. But Fulton set himself to the
task of making the best of this disappointment. He wasted not a moment in
vain regret, but without going back to his home for breakfast, he began,
with his own hands, to try and rescue the boat. For twenty-four hours
he worked, without food or rest, until—wet and weary but triumphant—he
recovered the machinery and engine. They were found to be little hurt,
although the boat itself was a total wreck. But, alas, Fulton paid a
heavy penalty for over-taxing his strength; for a permanent weakness
of the lungs, from which he never fully recovered, resulted from the
exposure and long struggle in the water to save his precious invention.
At no moment in his life did he display such fine courage as at this time
of apparent failure.
Fulton immediately began to build another boat, in which he placed the
recovered machinery. By the month of July he was again ready to show his
friends and the French scientists the working-power of his invention.
Mr. Fulner Skipwith was then our Consul-General in Paris. He was
interested in the idea of steam navigation, and during the preceding
year had sent a letter of inquiry regarding it to Robert Fulton, who
gladly answered his questions. Mr. Skipwith had married in Paris, while
Fulton was busy with his torpedo experiments on the French coast, and the
Consul-General’s first child was born during the spring of 1803. This
accounts for the merry letter of invitation which Fulton sent him on July
24th.
MR. SKIPWITH;
MY DEAR FRIEND,
You have experienced all the anxiety of a fond father on a
child’s coming into the world. So have I. Your little cherub,
now plump as a partridge, advances to the perfection of her
nature and each day presents some new charm. I wish mine may
do the same. Some weeks hence, when you will be sitting in one
corner of the room and Mrs. Skipwith in the other learning the
little creature to walk, the first unsteady step will scarcely
balance the tottering frame; but you will have the pleasing
perspective of seeing it grow to a steady walk and then to
dancing. I wish mine may do the same. My “boy,” who is all
bones and corners, just like his daddy and whose birth has
given me much uneasiness, or rather, anxiety,—is just learning
to walk and I hope in time he will be an active runner. I
therefore have the honour to invite you and the ladies to see
his first movements on Monday next from 6 till 9 in the evening
between the Barriere des Bons Hommes and the steam-engine. May
our children, my friend, be an honour to their country and a
comfort to the grey hairs of their doting parents.
Yours,
R. FULTON.
You see Fulton considered his boat as a son, as dear and as promising!
This second time the boat did not disappoint him. In the presence of the
invited guests, it moved successfully forth from the dock and steamed its
way along the river, receiving the applause and admiration of the group
of friends assembled by Fulton and Livingston. A public trial followed
about two weeks later and a newspaper of the day described it so fully
that a translation is here printed:
On the 9th of August, 1803, a trial was made of a new invention
and its complete and brilliant success should have important
consequences upon the commerce and internal navigation of
France. During the past two or three months there has been seen
at the end of the quay Chaillot, a boat of curious appearance,
equipped with two large wheels, mounted on an axle like a
chariot, while behind these wheels was a kind of large stove
with a pipe, as if there were some kind of a small fire engine
intended to operate the wheels of the boat. Several weeks
ago some evil-minded persons threw this structure down. The
builder, having repaired this damage, received, the day before
yesterday, a most flattering reward for his labour and talent.
At six o’clock in the evening, aided by only three persons, he
put his boat in motion, with two other boats in tow behind it,
and for an hour and a half he afforded the curious spectacle
of a boat moved by wheels like a chariot, these wheels being
provided with paddles or flat plates, and being moved by a fire
engine.
In following it along the quay, the speed against the current
of the Seine appeared to us about that of a rapid pedestrian,
while in going down-stream it was more rapid; it was manœuvred
with facility, turning to the right and left, came to anchor,
started again, and passed by the swimming-school.
One of the boats took to the quay a number of savants … who
will make a report which will give to this discovery all the
praise which it deserves; for this mechanism applied to our
rivers, the Seine, the Loire, and the Rhone, should result
most advantageously to our internal navigation. The tows of
barges which now require four months to come from Nantes to
Paris, would arrive promptly in 10 to 15 days. The author of
this brilliant invention is Monsieur Fulton, an American and a
celebrated mechanician.
Napoleon’s watchful eye was upon Fulton for he wrote on July 21st to the
Councillor of State in the Department of the Marine as follows:
“I have just read the project of Citizen Fulton which you have sent me
much too late _in that it may change the face of the world_. However
that may be, I desire you immediately to confide its examination to a
commission of members chosen by you from among the different classes of
the Institute. It is here that learned Europe would seek for judges to
solve the question under consideration. As soon as the report is made it
will be sent to you and you will forward it to me. Try and let the whole
matter be determined within a week as I am impatient.”
We may be sure that Fulton welcomed the questions of these learned men,
and sent them “an invitation to see the experiment of a boat ascending
the stream by means of a steam engine,” as their records show. He had
previously made an offer to Napoleon to convey his troops to England for
an attack, saying:
“The sea which separates you from your enemy gives him an
immense advantage over you. Aided in turn by the winds and the
tempests he defies you from his inaccessible island. I have
it in my power to cause this obstacle which protects him to
disappear. In spite of all his fleets and in any weather I can
transport your armies to his territory in a few hours, without
fear of the tempests and without depending upon the winds. I am
prepared to submit my plans.”
No wonder Napoleon was impatient to learn more about Fulton and willingly
admitted that his invention might “change the face of the world.” Bignon,
the French historian, wrote in 1829 that had Napoleon listened to
Fulton this important letter might have changed the history of Europe.
He supposes that had there existed a single steamboat in France at that
time, the workshops would have immediately been busied in ‘multiplying
the original.’ In a few years one or two hundred steamships, towing
behind them transports filled with soldiers, would have been ready with
their leader for the boldest of enterprises. Bignon declared that the men
and the times alike were ready for the novelty. England would have been
forced to submit to the terms of peace laid down by France. “Thus may the
fate of nations depend upon a new idea; thus nature conceals within her
bosom many unknown forces of which a single one is sufficient to change
the destiny of the world.”
But Napoleon did not embrace the opportunity. His secretary said that
when he presented Fulton’s memorial to him he exclaimed disdainfully,
“Bah! Away with your visionists!”
And Bignon, who took the trouble later to talk with the members of
Napoleon’s commission, said that they excused their lack of appreciation
by the statement that Fulton’s plan was accompanied by a number of
“foolish ideas” which obscured their view of the great underlying truth.
“Put not your trust in scientists,” exclaims Bignon, in the light of
Fulton’s success.
However, Lord Acton, the English authority upon this period of the
world’s history, when asked what event he considered of greatest
importance in the 19th century, replied, “The sinking of Fulton’s boat
on the Seine,” meaning that accident alone turned Napoleon from its
acceptance.
The words of several historians prove that the sunny day when Fulton’s
steamboat voyaged back and forth upon the waters of the Seine, riding in
triumph over the hidden wreck of its ill-fated predecessor, was really a
great moment in French history!
Fulton was master of its movement and supremely happy in his
accomplishment. He saw, with unshaken faith, as it is easy for us to
see to-day, in a review of the history of the past century, that his
twice-built boat on the river Seine was the forerunner of all the
gigantic fleets of steamboats which now ride upon the waters of the
world.