The eventful day, the 17th of August, 1807, dawned with blue, unclouded skies. There was a buzz of excitement throughout the morning as the guests, about forty in number, assembled at the dock near the old States Prison, in Greenwich Village.

Miss Helen Livingston, a young lady who was present, had written her mother, “Cousin Chancellor has a wonderful new boat which is to make the voyage up the Hudson some day soon. It will hold a good many passengers and he has, with his usual kindness, invited us to be of the party. He says it will be something to remember all our lives. He says we need not trouble ourselves about provisions, as his men will see to all that.”

She with her sister, Kate Livingston, made the famous trip and many years later told its story to her granddaughter, Helen Evertsen Smith, who wrote it out. “Cousin Chancellor” predicted the truth when he said it would be something to remember all their lives! There were several ladies in the party, as well as the Dean of Ripon Cathedral, England, John R. Livingston, and other persons of distinction. Some were incredulous and all were slightly uneasy. Fulton himself has thus described the exciting time:

We must not imagine that the boat was as perfect as the modern steamboats of to-day. Far from it! She was a strange looking vessel; the uncovered machinery occupied the center and groaned and creaked from time to time. The huge paddle-wheels splashed in and out of the water, casting spray on the decks and high in the air. The rear cabin was set aside for the use of the ladies,—the forward cabin for the men. There were two tall masts, provided with sails in case of need. A rude compass on deck guided the pilot in steering the boat. All together it is not to be wondered at that the odd-looking boat, spitting forth steam and splashing water at both sides, excited the lively interest of all who could see the vessel from both shores of the river.

It is said that the boat had not long been under way when Fulton caused it to be stopped because he saw a way of improving the paddles. He lessened their diameter, so the buckets took less hold of the water, for certainly they splashed too much. When the boat started again it was found that the alteration had increased her speed. It is said that her first performance exceeded the expectation of the passengers on board, and none but Fulton thought that she could be improved.

But after this adjustment there was no further trouble. The wheels went around with regular stroke as the boat advanced steadily up the river and convinced the skeptical that Fulton had fulfilled his promise.

One of the newspapers, the American Citizen, printed this notice that morning:

“Mr. Fulton’s ingenious steamboat, invented with a view to the navigation of the Mississippi from New Orleans upward, sails to-day from the North River, near States Prison, to Albany. The velocity is calculated at four miles an hour. It is said it will make a progress of two against the current of the Mississippi and if so it will certainly be a very valuable acquisition to the commerce of Western states.”

This news, together with the popular interest aroused near the dockyards, brought a crowd of people to the shores. During the setting-forth from the dock, the jeers of many could be plainly heard. As the paddles began to turn and the boat swung about to position and headed up stream, the faces of the doubters changed as though by magic. Fulton’s Folly was not merely afloat, it was moving with majesty and with assurance. The scoffs subsided, exclamations of wonder took their place; then, as the triumph of the experiment became evident, a cheer arose from the shore. It was echoed and repeated until the entire crowd acknowledged its mistake in a wild tumult of cheers,—the first public acclaim to greet the new invention.

From Helen Livingston’s letter we know that refreshments were provided for the party; and there were couches in the cabins upon which the guests could sleep at night, for the voyage to Albany took thirty-two hours instead of nine, as at the present day.

The boat splashed on its way, looking it is said “like a backwoods saw-mill mounted on a scow and set on fire.” Wood was used for fuel and when the fireman stirred the flames they shot high in the air, throwing out a multitude of sparks as well, which must have looked terrifying enough to the people on shore, especially in the darkness of the night. The sailors on the river sloops were amazed as they saw this queer boat gaining upon them, while some of the more timid actually ran their boats to shore and took to the woods in fright. Others gathered on the river bank and prayed for protection against this “monster” made by man. All were spellbound with astonishment and passed the word from one to another, so that the dwellers from all the houses near shore ran forth to view the strange craft.

After the first fear had passed, happiness prevailed on board. The quiet ease of Fulton’s and Livingston’s manner, as they moved about among their guests, restored peace of mind. By night, when filmy shadows fell over the mountain tops and the setting sun touched the waters with gold, the guests were thrilled with delight. The presence of the ladies added a touch of beauty to the strange-looking vessel, and as they proceeded through the picturesque Highlands, the party sang the melodies of the day. The Scotch ballad said to have been a favorite of Fulton’s rang out:

But Fulton’s care, for the time, had sped away. He was surrounded by friends whose compliments upon his success must have been both welcome and pleasant. Helen Livingston’s granddaughter writes: “There were many distinguished and fine-looking men on board the Clermont, but my grandmother always described Robert Fulton as surpassing them all. ‘That son of a Pennsylvania farmer,’ she was wont to say, ‘was really a prince among men. He was as modest as he was great and as handsome as he was modest. His eyes were glorious with love and genius.’”

A great personal happiness filled Fulton’s thought, beyond that of his success in the invention, for on the second day of the voyage, as the boat was about to cast anchor at the Clermont dock of the Chancellor, the latter, as a crowning touch of romance to the triumph of the voyage, announced the betrothal of his fair young cousin, Miss Harriet Livingston, to the inventor. In easy, graceful words he added that the name of Robert Fulton would descend to posterity as a benefactor to the world, for it was not impossible that, before the end of the century, vessels propelled by steam alone might make the voyage to Europe! The guests were too polite to laugh at this suggestion in the presence of the Chancellor and the inventor but, after several of the company had indulged in hidden smiles, John R. Livingston whispered to his cousin, “Bob has had many a bee in his bonnet before now, but this steam folly will prove the worst yet!”

It has been reported that the consent of the Livingston family had been withheld from Fulton’s engagement until he could prove his invention a success. He had asked the Chancellor if he might aspire to the hand of his fair cousin and had received the reply: “Her father may object … but if Harriet does not object,—and she seems to have a world of good sense,—go ahead, and my best wishes and blessings go with you.”

In the light of later events, it is hard to see why any objection could have been raised. Fulton, then forty-two years old, had made his way against great odds, and was a prominent man on both sides of the Atlantic. Harriet Livingston, a guest of honor on the historic trip up the Hudson, was the daughter of the Hon. Walter Livingston, Commissioner of the United States Treasury. The bride-elect had inherited beauty and talent. She played upon the harp and also sketched in pencil with delicacy and skill, an accomplishment which naturally appealed to Fulton’s artistic taste.

Her father, Walter Livingston, son of the last Lord of the Manor of Livingston, had inherited as his share of the vast grant of land of 1715, which comprised over 160,000 acres, a tract of 28,000 acres, which he named “Tiviotdale.” Upon this great estate he had built an imposing mansion to which in later years Fulton and his wife paid many visits.

The party left the boat at Clermont, while Fulton and the Chancellor, after spending the night at the latter’s hospitable home, continued the journey to Albany, arriving there at five o’clock in the afternoon. When the voyage to New York was made, Fulton set about improving his boat that she might be more comfortable for the many passengers he hoped to carry up and down the river. He wrote to Barlow, as follows:

“My steamboat voyage to Albany and back has turned out rather more favorably than I had calculated. The distance from New York to Albany is one hundred and fifty miles. I ran it up in thirty-two hours and down in thirty. I had a light breeze against me the whole way, both going and coming, and the voyage has been performed wholly by the power of the steam engine. I overtook many sloops and schooners beating to the windward and parted with them as if they had been at anchor. The power of propelling boats by steam is now fully proved. The morning I left New York there were not perhaps thirty persons in the city who believed that the boat would ever move one mile an hour, or be of the least utility, and while we were putting off from the wharf, which was crowded with spectators, I heard a number of sarcastic remarks. This is the way in which ignorant men compliment what they call philosophers and projectors. Having employed much time, money and zeal in accomplishing this work, it gives me, as it will you, great pleasure to see it fully answer my expectations. It will give a cheap and quick conveyance to the merchandise on the Mississippi, Missouri and other great rivers, which are now laying open their treasures to the enterprise of our countrymen; and although the prospect of personal emolument has been some inducement to me, yet I feel infinitely more pleasure in reflecting on the immense advantage my country will derive from the invention.”

And so was Fulton’s Folly changed to Fulton’s Triumph! There are several accounts of the return voyage, notably one written by a Frenchman, Monsieur Michaux, a distinguished botanist, who happened to be in Albany at the opportune time when Fulton’s boat was about to make its return voyage down the Hudson. He with his companion, a man named Parmentier, had been three days in the capital city when they read in the paper about the arrival of a “steam boat” from New York, commanded by the inventor, Robert Fulton. Crowds of people were flocking to the dock to see the strange craft. Some admitted that a great advantage might be gained by the novel method of transportation, although many persons predicted that the boiler would explode and cause serious accidents.

A sign hung upon the side of the boat announced that it would start for New York on Wednesday, August 20th, and would carry passengers at the same price charged by sailing-masters on their sloops, seven dollars.

The two Frenchmen decided to try the experiment. They were alone in their decision, all other travelers preferring to go by the old “slow and sure” way. The boat set off in sight of a crowd of spectators which had gathered at the dock. The smoke from the engine could be seen for some distance throwing a black column to the sky, and many persons gathered on near-by hillsides to wave their handkerchiefs and hurrah for Fulton whom they noticed in command when the boat came up the river.

Monsieur Michaux said that when they paid Mr. Fulton their fare, before they left the boat, he commented on the courage of two Frenchmen to embark when so many of his countrymen declined to try the experiment. It is interesting to remember that Fulton carried passengers from both France and England, the two countries where his preliminary attempts had been worked out; for an Englishman, probably the Dean of Ripon Cathedral, who is known to have been a guest of the Chancellor on the first trip of the Clermont, wrote a letter which was printed in the Naval Chronicle, for 1808, Vol. XIX, page 188:

“I have now the pleasure to state to you the particulars of a late excursion to Albany in the steamboat, made and completed under the directions of the Hon. Robert R. Livingston and Mr. Fulton, together with my remarks thereon. On the morning of the 19th of August Edward P. Livingston, Esq. and myself were honoured with an invitation from the Chancellor and Mr. Fulton to proceed with them to Albany, in trying the first experiment up the river Hudson, in the steamboat. She was then lying off Clermont, the country seat of the Chancellor, where she had arrived in twenty-four hours from New York, being 110 miles. Precisely at thirteen minutes past nine o’clock A.M. the engine was put in motion, when we made a head against the ebb tide and the head wind blowing a pleasant breeze. We continued our course for about eight miles, when we took the flood, the wind still ahead. We arrived at Albany about five o’clock P.M. being a distance from Clermont of forty-five miles, (as agreed by those best acquainted with the river) which was performed in eight hours, without any accident or interruption whatever. This decidedly gave the boat upwards of five miles an hour, the tide sometimes against us, neither the sails nor any implement but the steam used. The next morning we left Albany at twenty-five minutes past nine and arrived at Clermont in nine hours precisely, which gave us five miles an hour. The current on returning was stronger than when going up. After landing us at Clermont, Mr. Fulton proceeded with the passengers to New York. The excursion to Albany was very pleasant and presented a most interesting spectacle. As we passed the farms on the borders of the river, every eye was intent, and from village to village the heights and conspicuous places were occupied by the sentinels of curiosity, not viewing a thing they could possibly anticipate any idea of, but conjecturing about the possibility of the motion. As we passed and repassed the towns of Athens and Hudson we were politely saluted by the inhabitants and by several vessels, and at Albany we were visited by his Excellency, the Governor, and many citizens. She is unquestionably the most pleasant boat I ever went in. In her the mind is free from suspense. Perpetual motion authorizes you to calculate on a certain time to land; her works move with all the facility of a clock; and the noise when on board is not greater than that of a vessel sailing with a good breeze.”

And so the journey to Albany and back was complete, the triumph assured. That tiny steamboat, with splashing side-paddles, had been acknowledged a safe transport. With great pleasure the captain, Andrew Brink by name, who certainly knew more of navigation than of spelling French names, wrote in his note-book:

List of passengers on board the North River Steamboat from Albany to New York, August 21, 1807: