BUILDING THE _CLERMONT_
When Fulton, a youth of twenty-one, sailed from America in 1786, he
carried one letter of introduction in his pocket and forty guineas in his
purse. Twenty years later he returned, a man of prominence, with plans
and purposes enough to fill the remainder of his life. His arbitration
with the British government was finished; he had been paid for services
rendered to the fleet; and the system of torpedo warfare remained his
own, for he had declined to suppress it, at any price. He was content, in
excellent health, “never better,” he said, and in good spirits. Thus he
wrote to his friend Joel Barlow, announcing his return.
It was his hope to arrive in America by the 14th of November, his
birthday, and eat roast goose in Barlow’s hospitable home, “Kalorama,”—a
fine country estate near the city of Washington. But the slow-sailing
ship in which he embarked from Falmouth during the first week in October
did not come to port in Halifax, Nova Scotia, until the 13th of December,
1806.
How happy Fulton was to be again in his native land. He traveled at
once by stage-coach to visit the Barlows in their new and delightful
home, which he called the “Athenian Garden of America.” There he entered
another circle of Barlow’s friends, statesmen of the day, among whom were
Jefferson, Madison, and other men of prominence.
In Fulton’s letter to Barlow he had said, “You know I cannot exist
without a project, or projects, and I have two or three of the first
order of sublimity.” It was true, and he immediately set himself to the
task of forwarding them. He certainly believed in the importance of the
work he was about to begin.
The world has honored Fulton as the “inventor of the steamboat”; his
history shows that his other invention, the submarine torpedo-boat, was
of equal importance in Fulton’s estimation. Pledged to partnership with
Chancellor Livingston to build the boat for the Hudson River, he also
found time, soon after his arrival in America, to interest his countrymen
in his project of submarine navigation. Joel Barlow helped him in this
plan by inviting James Madison, Secretary of State, and Robert Smith,
Secretary of the Navy, to witness an experiment at Kalorama, on the
waters of Rock Creek. These men were favorably impressed, and Fulton
soon after arranged a series of experiments in the harbor of New York;
but three years went by before Congress appropriated money to finance the
invention in a practical way.
Fulton’s fame had spread, and in March he was invited by Thomas
Jefferson, then President of the United States, to examine the ground and
report on the possibility of building a canal to unite the waters of the
Mississippi River with Lake Pontchartrain; but Fulton replied, “although
infinitely obliged by the proposal I am sorry I cannot undertake a work
so interesting and honorable. The reason is I now have ship-builders,
blacksmiths and carpenters occupied at New York in building and executing
the machinery of my steamboat and I must return to that city in ten
days to direct the work till finished, which will probably require four
months. The enterprise is of much importance to me individually and I
hope will be of great use in facilitating the navigation of some of
our long rivers. Like every enthusiast I have no doubt of success. I
therefore work with ardor and when adjusting the parts of the machine I
cannot leave the men for a day. I am also preparing the engines for an
experiment of blowing up a vessel in the harbor of New York this spring.
The machines for this purpose are in great forwardness and I hope to
be able to convince the rational part of the inhabitants of our cities
that vessels of war shall never enter our harbors or approach our coasts
but by our consent. Thus I hope I am usefully employed for six or nine
months.”
How strange seem all these plans in the light of a century’s progress!
We are prone to think that civilization has come by leaps and bounds,
but a letter like this proves that men have had to develop it by patient
industry.
Fulton engaged a boat-builder, Charles Browne by name, whose yards were
at Corlears Hook on the East River, to construct the hull. It was a
hundred and fifty feet long, thirteen feet wide, drawing two feet of
water, bow and stern sixty degrees. You will remember that the engine
from England was safely stored in a warehouse on South Street, and it
was carted over to place in the boat on April 23d, 1807. Fulton kept an
account of all expenses and his worn little note-book tells many details
which otherwise would have been lost.
Plenty of people laughed at the enterprise and few thought it would
amount to anything. Idle-minded men crowded near the ship-yards and gave
their reasons for predicting the certain failure of _Fulton’s Folly_,
as they called the boat. This was unpleasant but Fulton took no notice
of them for he had long before realized that only wise people can grasp
new ideas. His patience was inexhaustible and his temper undisturbed.
He declined to listen to the jeers of the bystanders who often rudely
intended their remarks to reach his ears. And day by day the boat
advanced toward completion.
It will be remembered that Livingston, by the terms of contract, could
not be called upon for more money; we can fancy then how great was
Fulton’s anxiety when he found that the boat would cost more than he
had surmised. It is said that when one thousand dollars were needed to
pay the men, Fulton vainly spent an entire evening trying to persuade
an intimate friend to lend the money. Nothing daunted, he renewed his
entreaties the following day, and finally the friend reluctantly promised
a hundred dollars if Fulton could persuade nine others to subscribe the
same sum. This he did by promising the subscribers that their names
should be kept secret, as they feared ridicule.
[Illustration: FULTON MEDAL.
Struck after the inventor’s death in 1815.
_Courtesy of the Century Company._]
The lack of money was exasperating when Fulton felt so sure of his
plan, but not an angry or fretful word escaped him; and when work went
wrong, as it sometimes did, he commenced again with the same ardor and
calmness. Hot weather came on and still Fulton worked hard at the yards,
superintending every detail; he must often have been exhausted, says
Colden, his biographer, but he never complained. He showed himself a
moral as well as a mechanical philosopher.
We always think of Fulton’s steamboat as voyaging first upon the waters
of the Hudson; it is interesting therefore to learn from a letter Fulton
wrote to Chancellor Livingston, that the boat was launched in the East
River, and there made a successful trial-trip on the 9th of August,
1807, exactly four years after Fulton’s demonstration of his French boat
on the river Seine. He probably chose the date in remembrance of that
never-to-be-forgotten triumph.
The Chancellor was spending the summer at Clermont, his famous country
estate on the Hudson River at Tivoli, a short distance below the city of
Hudson. His delight must have been great when he received the following
letter from his energetic partner. I quote it in full because of its
special interest in showing how fully Fulton tested his new craft and how
personal was his care and exercise of her movements:
NEW YORK, Monday the 10th August, 1807.
DEAR SIR:
Yesterday about 12 o’clock I put the steamboat in motion, first
with a paddle 8 inches broad 3 feet long with which I ran
about one mile up the East River against a tide of almost one
mile an hour, it being nearly high water. I then anchored and
put in another paddle 8 inches wide 3 feet long, started again
and then according to my best observations I went 3 miles an
hour, that is two against a tide of one; another board of 8
inches was wanting which had not been prepared. I therefore
turned the boat and run down with the tide of one mile, boat
3, equal four, and turned her round neatly into the berth from
which I parted. She answers the helm equal to anything that
ever was built. And I turned her twice in three times her own
length.
Much has been proved by this experiment; First, that she will
when in complete order run up to my full calculations; Second,
that my axles I believe will be sufficiently strong to run the
engine to her full power; Third, that she steers well and can
be turned with ease. The sum of the surfaces of the paddles
were 8 feet, the Bow of the boat 9. My paddle boards should
have been equal 12 feet which I was afraid to put on at first;
they are now making.
The engine having worked for the first time requires
overhauling and new packing. The cold-water pump for condensing
is 7 inches and a two foot stroke yet does not furnish
sufficient cold water for complete condensation and vacuum. I
am about making it 10 inches diameter; these connections with
the finishing of the cabins will take me the entire week and I
shall start on Monday next at 4 miles an hour.
Yesterday I beat all the sloops that were endeavoring to stem
tide with the slight breeze which they had; had I hoisted my
sails I consequently should have had all their means added to
my own.
Whatever may be the fate of steamboats for the Hudson every
thing is completely proved for the Mississippi, and the object
is immense. Please to forward me 1000 or 1500 dollars as soon
as possible.
Yours truly,
R. FULTON.
Best respects to Mrs. Livingston.
Addressed to Robt. R. Livingston, Esqr. Clermont, New York.
Money was again needed, you see, but we may be sure it was forthcoming
with this proof of the success of the great project. For the trial-trip,
although it made necessary some slight alterations, removed all doubt
as to its power. During the week the boat was moved to its new dock
on the North, or Hudson River, and the carpenters were set at work to
finish the cabins and make the boat ready for her first official voyage
up the Hudson. Fulton promised the Chancellor that it should take place
“on Monday next,”—that was August 17th,—so Fulton’s partner and several
members of his family journeyed to New York, by sloop or stage-coach, to
take the historic trip.