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:

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:

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.

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:

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:

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.