in the Revolutionary War, gave great encouragement to this hope, in 1800, by taking the full-rigged ship “St. Clair,” with a cargo of pork and flour, from Marietta, Ohio, down the Ohio, over the falls at Louisville, thence down the Mississippi, and round by sea to Havana, and so on to Philadelphia.  This really notable exploit—­to the success of which good luck contributed almost as much as good seamanship—­aroused the greatest enthusiasm.  The Commodore returned home overland, from Philadelphia.  His progress, slow enough, at best, was checked by ovations, complimentary addresses, and extemporized banquets.  He was the man of the moment.  The poetasters, who were quite as numerous in the early days of the republic, as the true poets were scarce, signalized his exploit in verse.

“The Triton crieth,
‘Who cometh now from shore?’
Neptune replieth,
’’Tis the old Commodore. 
Long has it been since I saw him before. 
In the year ’75 from Columbia he came,
The pride of the Briton, on ocean to tame.

* * * * *

“’But now he comes from western woods,
Descending slow, with gentle floods,
The pioneer of a mighty train,
Which commerce brings to my domain.’”

But Neptune and the Triton had no further occasion to exchange notes of astonishment upon the appearance of river-built ships on the ocean.  The “St. Clair” was the first and last experiment of the sort.  Late in the nineties, the United States Government tried building a torpedo-boat at Dubuque for ocean service, but the result was not encouraging.

Year after year the steamboats multiplied, not only on the rivers of the West, but on those leading from the Atlantic seaboard into the interior.  It may be said justly that the application of steam to purposes of navigation made the American people face fairly about.  Long they had stood, looking outward, gazing across the sea to Europe, their sole market, both for buying and for selling.  But now the rich lands beyond the mountains, inviting settlers, and cut up by streams which offered paths for the most rapid and comfortable method of transportation then known, commanded their attention.  Immigrants no longer stopped in stony New England, or in Virginia, already dominated by an aristocratic land-owning class, but pressed on to Kentucky, Ohio, Tennessee, and Illinois.  As the lands filled up, the little steamers pushed their noses up new streams, seeking new markets.  The Cumberland, and the Tennessee, the Missouri, the Arkansas, the Red, the Tombigbee, and the Chattahoochee were stirred by the churning wheels, and over-their forests floated the mournful sough of the high-pressure exhaust.

In 1840, a count kept at Cairo, showed 4566 vessels had passed that point during the year.  By 1848, a “banner” year, in the history of navigation on the Mississippi, traffic was recorded thus: