The Parsonage Between Two Manors, Chapter 22

To a man as full of mechanical genius as Dominie Gebhard, and to sons growing up with the same tastes, the stories of a forth-coming boat on the Hudson run by steam, could not but produce eager expectation and intelligent interest. The fact that this new venture was the combined effort of Chancellor Livingston and Robert Fulton, made it doubly attractive to the section of country which Chancellor Livingston called home. The subject was under discussion a every stage-house and tavern, and the skippers of the sloops on the Hudson, looked forward with ill-concealed disdain to the attempt to run a boat irrespective of wind or tide, and they, in common with those who looked on its building, joined in called the new steamboat "Fulton's Folly."

Fulton, as he says himself, "accomplished his great [page 197] purpose without a single word of encouragement, or of bright hope, or a warm wish crossing his path." Yet had he but known it, there were men of vision holding a hope of success in their hearts for the young inventor and his project, and bearing in their turn the ridicule of the doubters. But the great discoveries of science have never waited for the demise of the incredulous before pouring their benefits upon mankind, and neither did the new steamboat "Clermont," named for Chancellor Livingston's place on the Hudson, await that long delayed day.

On the 17th of August, 1807, the Clermont started on its first trip up the Hudson, carrying a party of invited guests. All along the river crowds gathered on the wharves and along the shores waving and cheering, and the skippers and sailors on the sloops and river craft watched with astonishment the grotesque-looking vessel moving rapidly forward against wind and tide, without the usual means of locomotion. And indeed it was an awe-inspiring sight, especially at night. From the smoke-stack arose a volume of fire-streaked smoke, made still more luminous with flying sparks when the wood fires were stirred from below. [page 198] The noise of paddles and machinery were deafening at a near range, and some of the foreign sailors on the sloops are said to have dropped to their knees with a prayer that they might be protected from so horrible a monster, which came swiftly on its way, belching fire and smoke.

A farmer part way up river hastened home to inform his family that "he had seen the devil going up river in a saw-mill." No doubt the ludicrous appearance of the oddly-formed vessel awakened humorous remarks as well as astonishment, nevertheless the power of the little steam engine, caused the Clermont to overtake sloops and schooners beating to wind-ward, and leave them far behind in the race.

The invitations for this first trip of the Clermont, had in some cases been accepted with a degree of hesitancy, for the voyage was an experiment, yet there was a sense of fascination in the untried experience. There were several ladies on board, among them Miss Harriet Livingston, daughter of Walter Livingston of "Teviotdale" in the Livingston Manor, and several of her cousins. The Manor families were also represented by John R. Livingston and John Swift [page 199] Livingston, beside the Chancellor. As the voyage proceeded, apprehension was disarmed by the successful passage of the boat through the water, and the relief from previous doubt showed itself in merriment and song.

"Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon," being Fulton's favorite song, was sung by the young people in the stern, in compliment to the man who had made this great effort and won this great success.

Just before the boat reached Clermont, Chancellor Livingston made two memorable announcements, one in the form of a prophecy, "that the name of the inventor would descend to posterity as a benefactor of the world," the other of special interest to all present, which was the betrothal of Robert Fulton to his young relative Harriet Livingston.

While the boat lay at the Clermont dock on the night of August 18th, Captain Brink, who was in command, rowed across the river to Saugerties for his wife, whom he had promised to "take to Albany in a boat driven by a tea-kettle."

The youngest passenger on the Clermont that August day was Mr. Daniel Gantley, afterward of [page 200] Athens, N. Y., who lived to be nearly ninety-four years old, and never forgot the peculiar sensations of danger and elation experienced by this novel form of locomotion, nor the amazement the steamboat occasioned along the path of its progress.

It is a noteworthy fact, that in the Hudson-Fulton Celebration just passed, John Sanderson Elliott, great-grandson of Daniel Gantley, a High School boy of Catskill, made the address of the occasion, speaking of the great achievements of both Hudson and Fulton, and closed by introducing Governor Hughes to the assembled people.

The boat left New York at one o'clock on Monday, and arrived at Clermont at one o'clock on Tuesday, steaming over one hundred and ten miles in twenty-four hours. She left the Chancellor's dock again at nine o'clock the next morning, and arrived at Albany at five in the afternoon, having made the one hundred and fifty miles in thirty-two hours. On her trial trip the Clermont passed up river through the Athens channel, but on her return, pleased the citizens of Hudson by steaming down the Hudson channel, the return trip settling any lingering doubts as to the future [page 201] success of steam-navigation.

On the 4th of September the Clermont made her first trip as a passenger boat. Every house-top and wharf in New York which commanded a view of the water, was filled with people eager to gain a sight of the wonderful invention, meanwhile warning their friends not to go aboard so dangerous a vessel. The boat made a circle three times. By this time incredulity had given place to surprise, and as the steamboat moved toward the north, ten thousand people cheered vociferously. Fulton stood with flashing eyes erect on the deck. It was a moment of supreme victory worth years of effort. At Tarrytown they left a passenger, and again at Newburgh, each town giving the boat and party aboard an ovation. At West Point the whole garrison turned out and cheered. It was a voyage of triumph.

As the Clermont passed Catskill, on a little island in the river called Bompie's Hook (now Catskill Point) the passengers saw six boys eagerly watching the approach of the steamboat. One of these boys was Thurlow Weed, in later years the celebrated politician. Catskill mainland not being connected with the [page 202] Point in those days, the boys had made a connection for themselves, by stuffing their clothes in their hats and placing the hats on logs pushed ahead of them as they swam toward Bompies. When the first streak of smoke appeared on the horizon the boys were ready for their sight of the first steamboat.

The residents of Claverack and the citizens of Hudson watched the vessel steam toward Albany even more keenly alive to its value in navigation than their neighbors further south, for Hudson was a port of entry, and steam would reconstruct her chief industry. A good sloop made the journey from Albany to New York in forty-eight hours. The new steamboat had been able to cut off eighteen hours from this lengthy voyage on its return trip.

The Clermont continued to make trips till the close of navigation of that year, making Poughkeepsie, Esopus, and Hudson stopping places. Shortly after her first voyage she made a record-breaking trip from New York in twenty-seven hours, landing at Hudson with one hundred and twenty passengers.

One of the resultant benefits of such rapid navigation was made public about this time through a unique [page 203] advertisement in the Hudson Bee.

"Here's Your Beauties of Lobsters."

"These, with sea bass, cod and black fish, jumping and alive in Hudson market, afford quite a dainty to an epicure, one hundred and twenty miles from the ocean. They are brought here on the steamboat, and sold in the brick market, fresh and in good order, ever time she arrives from New York."

A year later the following curious explanatory note was added to the advertised time-table.

"As the time at which the Boat may arrive at the different places above mentioned, may vary an hour, more or less, according to the advantage of disadvantage of wind or tide, those who wish to come on board will see the necessity of being on the spot an hour before the time."

Going north the boat stopped at West Point at four o'clock in the morning. Returning, a landing was made at Poughkeepsie at midnight, and at Newburgh the same hour as at West Point. The night-watches spent on the docks while waiting for the new steamboat, must have given would-be passengers excellent opportunities to study the stars at various hours of the night.

[page 204] During the winter the gallant little Clermont was placed on the ways in the bay south of Tivoli (then called Lower Red Hook), where she was rebuilt and re-modeled by ship-carpenters from Hudson. Her size being much increased, she offered accommodations to a larger traveling public. May 1st, 1808, she was re-launched and re-christened the "North River," and in charge of Captain Samuel Jenkins of Hudson, was taken to New York, and at the dock at the foot of Dey St. the carpenter and cabin work was completed. Also at this time the machinery was put on board, but proving inadequate to the strain put upon it, in a few weeks the boat was supplied with a boiler of heavy sheet copper. "Commodore" Wiswall was now in command, and once more Chancellor Livingston and a party of friends made a trial trip, this time on the "North River."

Livingston had made unsuccessful efforts toward steam navigation before he met Fulton in Paris. Fulton in his turn, had failed to secure the requisite amount of political and financial support in his experiments to insure success, but the combined efforts of the two men, gave to the world of their day, one of [page 205] the wonder-working results of applied science. In 1810 the steamboat "North River" made her record trip from New York to Albany in nineteen hours, and a century later the world is still reaping the benefits accorded it by two courageous and inventive minds.

While Fulton's success was at its height he married Harriet Livingston, grand-daughter of the last Lord of Livingston Manor, whose engagement had been announced on the first trip of the Clermont. She was a beautiful and accomplished woman with a charm beyond others to a man of inventive genius. Her belief in his talents and ability are said to have amounted almost to a passion. Their married life was an exceedingly happy one, their union being blessed with four children, a son and three daughters. Fulton's love for art had continued in conjunction with other engrossing pursuits. His painting of his friend Joel Barlow and the illustrations of Barlow's Columbiad, had been the result of his warm friendship, and his love for the artistic.

An odd conceit was the painting of his wife's mother, Mrs. Walter Livingston, on one side of a panel, and her grandson, Little Robert Barlow Fulton, on the [page 206] other. Grandmother and grandchild were never more closely united,--the high-bred face of the descendant of the Schuylers, and the delicate face of the child with only the panel between them.

Their home contained much that was of special interest. The dining table of solid mahogany, standing upon claw feet, and formed of two half circles large enough when complete to seat a dozen guests; the set of china consisting of three hundred and sixty-five pieces, presented to Fulton by Thomas Jefferson, and bearing the Coat-of-Arms of the United States, which often graced the festal board, were both a part of the furnishing of the inventor's home.

It is in keeping with the family picture to see Mrs. Fulton playing the melodies of the day on the harp, while her husband and children pursued their art, each in their respective way, for all of the children inherited a degree of artistic talent from their father, as well as a love for outdoor life, the charm of the water-ways, and the delights of horse-back riding across the beautiful Livingston Manor. A childish effort of Julia Fulton in pencil, portrays a little girl and a boy in colonial costumes, clinging close to each other [page 207] under a large umbrella. The quaint childish figures in long pantalets, full skirt, and boyish jacket of early date, with the hair of both curling to their shoulders is irresistible in its outlines, even though only the backs are visible.

There is an engraving of Fulton's boyhood in existence, with short trousers buckled at the knee, and low shoes also with their broad buckles, ruffled shirt and old time coat, which is most attractive, but the immaturity of the face in no wise compares with the manly beauty of the portrait painted by his friend and master Benjamin Franklin. It would seem that the love of the master for the pupil was the motive power that swayed the talent behind the brush. Every brown lock on his forehead, every curve of the features, the transparent honesty of the direct gaze of the blue eyes, and even the full grasp of the gifted hands, bespeak an affection of the subject which shines through the beauty of the physical outlines. As a final thought,--an insignia of office,--in the plain background of the painting is traced in faint outlines a torpedo blowing up a tiny war-ship, to the successful invention of which Fulton had given much time.

[page 208] Beautiful as was this home life, it was destined to be short-lived. Robert Fulton died on February 24th, 1815, at the age of fifty years. In him was lost an ingenious and notable inventor, and a beneficent spirit, whose future efforts might have blessed the world still further, had he been given length of days in companionship with a wife fitted to inspire and encourage the talents of his fertile brain.

After her husband's death Mrs. Fulton lived for a time in New York, then brought her children home to her father's house at "Teviotdale," where she died herself a few years later.

The body of Robert Fulton's wife and the mother of his children rests to-day under the century-old trees in Claverack cemetery, while in the sweeping view to the west from this quiet spot, the Catskills guard the river as of yore, running like a ribbon of glistening blue at their feet, where the steamboats never cease their tireless journeys north and south, and Fulton's name and fame are honored by thousands of summer pilgrims from every land. His name will ever be inter-woven for the American people, and for the voyages from across the sea, with the exquisite beauty of the [page 209] Hudson, and "lest we forget" the Hudson Day Line has named its last and most beautiful floating palace after the inventor of the steamboat and hung his portrait painted by his grandson Robert Fulton Ludlow, where all may see.