The Clermont was the pioneer steamer of the Hudson River, and its trial trip was made in 1807.  The first steamboat which descended the Ohio and Mississippi rivers was christened the New Orleans.”  It was designed and built by Mr. N.J.  Roosevelt, and commenced its voyage from Pittsburgh in September, 1811.  The bold proprietor of this enterprise, with his wife, Mrs. Lydia M. Roosevelt, accompanied the captain, engineer, pilot, six hands, two female servants, a man waiter, a cook, and a large Newfoundland dog, to the end of the voyage.  The friends of this lady—­the first woman who descended the great rivers of the West in a steamboat—­used every argument they could offer to dissuade her from undertaking what was considered a dangerous experiment, an absolute folly.  The good wife, however, clung to her husband, and accepted the risks, preferring to be drowned or blown up, as her friends predicted, rather than to desert her better-half in his hour of trial.  A few weeks would decide his success or failure, and she would be at his side to condole or rejoice with him, as the case might be.

The citizens of Pittsburgh gathered upon the banks of the Monongahela to witness the inception of the enterprise which was to change the whole destiny of the West.  One can imagine the criticisms flung at the departing steamer as she left her moorings and boldly faced her fate.  As the curious craft was borne along the current of the river, the Indians attempted to approach her, bent upon hostile attempts, and once a party of them pursued the boat in hot chase, but their endurance was not equal to that of steam.  These children of the forest gazed upon the snorting, fire-breathing monster with undisguised awe, and called it “Penelore”—­the fire-canoe.  They imagined it to have close relationship with the comet that they believed had produced the earthquakes of that year.  The voyage of the “New Orleans” was a romantic reality in two ways.  The wonderful experiment was proved a success, and its originator won his laurel wreath; while the bold captain of the fire-ship, falling in love with one of the chambermaids, won a wife.

The river’s travel now became somewhat monotonous.  I had reached a low country, heavily wooded in places, and was entering the great prairie region of Illinois.  Having left my island camp by starlight on Tuesday morning, and having rowed steadily all day until dusk, I passed the wild-looking mouth of the Wabash River, and went into camp behind an island, logging with pleasure my day’s run at sixty-seven miles.  I was now only one hundred and forty-two miles from the mouth of the Ohio, and with the rising and rapidly increasing current there were only a few hours’ travel between me and the Mississippi.