ccident. The story is told by Thomas
P. Cope, in the seventh volume of Hazard's _Register_. He says: "I
often witnessed the performance of the boat in 1788-89-90. 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 F