Past the towns and villages along the Hudson, the boat moved
steadily, black smoke rolling from her stack. Pine wood was the
fuel. During the night, the sparks pouring from her funnel, the
clanking of her machinery, and the splashing of the paddles
frightened the animals in the woods and the occupants of the
scattered houses along the banks. At one o'clock Tuesday the boat
arrived at Clermont, 110 miles from New York. After spending the
night at Clermont, the voyage was resumed on Wednesday. Albany,
forty miles away, was reached in eight hours, making a record of
150 miles in thirty-two hours. Returning to New York, the
distance was covered in thirty hours. The steamboat was a
success.

The boat was then laid up for two weeks while the cabins were
boarded in, a roof built over the engine, and coverings placed
over the paddle-wheels to catch the spray--all under Fulton's
eye. Then the Clermont began regular trips to Albany, carrying
sometimes a hundred passengers, making the round trip every four
days, and continued until floating ice marked the end of
navigation for the winter.

Why had Fulton succeeded where others had failed? There was
nothing new in his boat. Every essential feature of the Clermont
had been anticipated by one or other of the numerous
experimenters before him. The answer seems to be that he was a
better engineer than any of them. He had calculated proportions,
and his hull and his engine were in relation. Then too, he had
one of Watt's engines, undoubtedly the best at the time, and the
unwavering support of Robert Livingston.