[18] New York Evening Sun, July 1909.

The boat itself was wedge-shaped at bow and stern, which were cut sharp to an angle of 60 degrees. She was almost wall-sided. She was flat-bottomed and keelless, leeway being prevented by two steering boards. Her tiller was at the back end of the after cabin so that it was difficult for the steersman to see ahead. The paddle-wheels, 15 feet in diameter, being uncovered, splashed tremendously, and drenched the passengers. A paddle-wheel had to be disconnected when it was desired to turn the vessel round.

The Clermont reached Chancellor Livingston’s residence at Clermont, 110 miles from New York, in 24 hours, against the wind, the average speed being 4·6 miles an hour. The running time for the whole journey to Albany of 150 miles was 32 hours, or nearly five miles an hour; the return trip was made in 32 hours, running time, the sails not being used on either occasion. An eye-witness as she passed up the river thus describes her:

“It was in the early autumn of the year 1807 that a knot of villagers was gathered on a high bluff, just opposite Poughkeepsie, on the west bank of the Hudson, attracted by the appearance of a strange-looking craft, which was slowly making its way up the river. Some imagined it to be a sea monster, whilst others did not hesitate to express their belief that it was a sign of the approaching judgment. What seemed strange in the vessel was the substitution of a lofty and strange black smoke-pipe rising from the deck, instead of the gracefully tapered masts that commonly stood on the vessels navigating the stream, and, in place of the spars and rigging, the curious play of the working beam and piston, and the slow turning and splashing of the huge and naked paddle-wheels, met their astonished gaze. The dense clouds of smoke, as they rose wave upon wave, added still more to the wonder of the rustics. This strange-looking craft was the Clermont on her trial trip to Albany; and, of the little knot of villagers above mentioned, the writer, then a boy in his eighth year, with his parents, formed a part, and I well remember the scene, one so well fitted to impress a lasting picture upon the mind of a child accustomed to watch the vessels that passed up and down the river. On her return trip, the curiosity she excited was scarcely less intense—the whole country talked of nothing but the sea monster, belching forth fire and smoke.

“The fishermen became terrified and rowed homeward, and they saw nothing but destruction devastating their fishing grounds; whilst the wreaths of black vapours, and rushing noise of the paddle-wheels, foaming with the stirred-up waters, produced great excitement amongst the boatmen, until it was more intelligent than before; for the character of that curious boat, and the nature of the enterprise she was pioneering had been ascertained.”

According to Colden, those who saw the Clermont at night described her as “a monster moving on the water, defying the winds and the tide, and breathing flames and smoke.” She had, he proceeds to say, “the most terrific appearance from other vessels which were navigating the river when she was making her passage. The first steamboats, as others yet do, used dry pine-wood for fuel, which sends forth a column of ignited vapour, many feet above the flue, and whenever the fire is stirred a galaxy of sparks fly off, which in the night have an airy, brilliant, and beautiful appearance. This uncommon light first attracted the attention of crews of other vessels. Notwithstanding the wind and tide were adverse to its approach, they saw with astonishment that it was rapidly coming towards them; and when it came so near that the noise of the machinery and the paddles were heard, the crews in some instances shrunk beneath their decks from the terrific sight; and others left their vessels to go on shore; while others again prostrated themselves, and besought Providence to protect them from the approach of the horrible monster which was marching on the tides, and lighting its path by the fires which it vomited.”

After the improvements had been made in the Clermont she entered in the spring of 1809 upon the regular work for which she was intended—the day service between New York and Albany.

The guards and paddle-boxes, which were mere temporary structures, were made substantial and permanent, and the cabins were rearranged and refitted in the most beautiful manner. The Clermont, said Professor Renwick, “thus converted into a floating palace, gay with ornamental painting, gilding, and polished woods, commenced her course of passages for the second year in the month of April.”[19]

[19] The “Master, Mate, and Pilot.”

When rebuilt she was christened the North River and maintained the service alone until October, when a second Fulton boat, the Car of Neptune, was launched. She was a larger boat, and ran continuously until 1817, and the other vessels which were added to the little fleet also proved successful.