John Tyler and the USS Princeton Disaster
By Silence Dogood
Historically, one of the most dangerous jobs a person can have, in a statistical sense, is to be the President of the United States. Of the 45 men who have held the office, eight presidents have died before completing their term—four due to illness and four due to assassination. That’s nearly 20 percent!
Even with odds that high, it’s actually amazing that more have not died while in office. There have been close calls involving planes, trains, and automobiles throughout history. And there have been other, stranger brushes with disaster for the nation’s commander in chief. One such close call occurred in 1844 aboard the USS Princeton.
President John Tyler knew something about presidents dying in office. In 1841, just 32 days after becoming the ninth President of the United States, William Henry Harrison died after complications from pneumonia. This marked the first time a president had died in office, and the Constitution offered little clarity on what should happen next with regard to the vice president.
Today, thanks to the 25th Amendment to the United States Constitution, there is a clear plan of action if a president is unable to perform the duties of the office. But in 1841, all the country had to work with was what had been ratified in 1789. According to Article II, Section 1, Clause 6 of the Constitution: “In Case of the Removal of the President from Office, or of his Death, Resignation, or Inability to discharge the Powers and Duties of the said Office, the Same shall devolve on the Vice President…” The major question was whether the vice president assumed merely the duties of the office, or the office itself. It may seem obvious now with the benefit of hindsight, but at the time it was anything but.
According to accounts from the events immediately following Harrison’s death, his cabinet reportedly met and decided that Vice President John Tyler would be “vice president acting president.”
Many in Congress also did not know what to make of this potential constitutional crisis. John Quincy Adams (the only president to serve as a congressman following his time in the White House) viewed Tyler as a sort of caretaker of the office until another election. Henry Clay, the leading powerbroker of the Whig Party who had hoped to act as something of a puppet master behind the scenes of the Harrison administration, also resisted Tyler’s full claim to the presidency.
Tyler, however, saw things differently. He immediately had himself sworn in as president and moved into the White House. He interpreted the Constitution as transferring not just the powers of the office, but the office itself.
On May 31, 1841, nearly three months after he had been sworn in, the House of Representatives passed a resolution declaring that Tyler was indeed the President of the United States. The next day, June 1, the Senate followed suit.
Even with this confirmation from both houses of Congress, Tyler faced disparaging remarks about his legitimacy for the rest of his term.
Fast forward to 1844, the final year of John Tyler’s presidency. The impressive USS Princeton, a new steam warship and modern marvel of the time, was brought to the Potomac River for a cruise for hundreds of Washington dignitaries—a perfect opportunity to show off American naval innovation. On board were President Tyler, his cabinet, and many high-ranking members of the House and Senate. Even former first lady Dolley Madison had joined for the day’s festivities.
Also on board was the world’s largest naval gun: the “Peacemaker.”
The captain of the USS Princeton fired the gun several times to the great delight of the crowd before the guests were beckoned below deck for a few ceremonial toasts.
After some time, the crowd began to petition the captain for one more firing of the mighty Peacemaker. He relented, and most of the group flocked back topside to see the demonstration once more. Remaining below deck, however, was President Tyler.
Moments later, there was a thunderous explosion, one unlike the earlier blasts.
The Peacemaker had malfunctioned. Upon firing, the gun itself exploded, sending metal shrapnel flying across the deck. At least 20 people were injured. Six men were killed instantly. Among the dead were Secretary of State Abel P. Upshur, Secretary of the Navy Thomas Walker Gilmer, Congressman David Gardiner of New York, and one of Tyler’s enslaved servants.
It was the most devastating single tragedy to befall the American government in the young nation’s history.
President Tyler, having remained below deck for the final firing, was unharmed. (As an aside: also below deck was Congressman Gardiner’s daughter, Julia. Four months later, Tyler would marry Julia Gardiner in a private ceremony in New York City, making her First Lady of the United States.)
Had Tyler been on deck for the Peacemaker tragedy, the man who rose to the presidency upon the death of another might have suffered the same fate—and thrown the country into an even deeper constitutional crisis.
While there was no clearly defined succession plan for the death of a president, at least the office of vice president was explicitly granted the powers of the presidency. Tyler, however, had no vice president in 1844. There was no constitutional method for replacing one after he had vacated the position in 1841. The Constitution offered only a vague line allowing Congress to declare “what Officer shall then act as President.” Had Tyler died that day, it is far from clear who would have assumed the office.
It would not be until the Presidential Succession Act of 1947 and the ratification of the Twenty-fifth Amendment in 1967 that these questions of presidential succession were more fully settled.
President Tyler’s career—both in office and after—was a tumultuous one. In 1860, as the nation stood on the brink of civil war, the Virginian initially supported efforts at compromise to avoid bloodshed. Once the die was cast, however, Tyler sided with the Confederacy. He was even elected to the Confederate House of Representatives but died before taking his seat.
Even with this highly controversial end, Tyler and what became known as the “Tyler Precedent” profoundly shaped the United States. While William Henry Harrison was the first president to die in office, he was certainly not the last. Tyler’s insistence on becoming not merely acting president but the President of the United States set a lasting precedent, one that would later carry consequential figures like Theodore Roosevelt, Harry S. Truman, and Lyndon B. Johnson into the presidency.
There is truly no telling what might have become of this American experiment had Tyler not asserted himself as president in 1841 or if catastrophe had struck just a little differently on that day in 1844.