It was propelled by paddles in the stern, and was constantly getting out of order.  I saw it when it was returning from a trip to Burlington, from whence it was said to have arrived in little more than two hours.  When coming to off Kensington, some part of the machinery broke, and I never saw it in motion afterward.  I believe it was his [Fitch’s] last effort.  He had, up to that period, been patronized by a few stout-hearted individuals, who had subscribed a small capital, in shares, I think, of six pounds Pennsylvania currency; but this last disaster so staggered their faith and unstrung their nerves, that they never again had the hardihood to make other contributions.  Indeed, they already rendered themselves the subjects of ridicule and derision for their temerity and presumption in giving countenance to this wild projector and visionary madman.  The company thereupon gave up the ghost, the boat went to pieces, and Fitch became bankrupt and brokenhearted.  Often have I seen him stalking about like a troubled spectre, with downcast eye and lowering countenance, his coarse, soiled linen peeping through the elbows of a tattered garment.”

With the breakdown of his enterprise, John Fitch went forth penniless into the world.  The patent which he received from the United States in 1791, was of small use.  How little can a pauper avail himself of a privilege!  Presently his patent was burned up, and a year afterward, namely in 1793, he went to France.  There he would—­according to his dream—­find patronage and fame; but on his arrival in the French capital he found the Reign of Terror just beginning its work.  It was not likely that the Revolutionary Tribunal would give heed to an American dreamer and his proposition to propel by steam a boat on the Seine.  However, Fitch went to L’Orient and deposited the plans and specifications of his invention with the American consul.  Then he departed for London.

In the following year a man by the name of Robert Fulton took up his residence with the family of Joel Barlow, in Paris.  There he devoted himself to his art, which was that of a painter.  Whoever had passed by the corner of Second and Walnut streets, in Philadelphia while Fitch was constructing his first steamboat, might have seen a little sign carrying these words:  “Robert Fulton, Miniature Painter.”  But now, after nearly ten years, he was painting a panorama in France.  While thus engaged, the American consul at L’Orient showed to Fulton Fitch’s drawings and specifications for a steamboat.  More than this, he loaned them to him, and he kept them for several months.

A thrifty man was Robert Fulton; discerning, prudent and capable!  Meanwhile, poor Fitch, in 1794, returned to America.  On the ship he worked his way as one of the hands.  Getting again to New York he determined to make his way into that region of country where he had been a surveyor in 1780.  He accordingly set out from New York for Kentucky, but not till he had invented, or rather constructed, a steamboat, which was driven by a screw propeller!  This, in 1796, he launched on the Collect Pond, in what is now Lower New York.  The boat was successful as an experiment; but the people who saw it looked upon its operation and upon the thing itself as the product of a crazy man’s brain.