Chester Arthur is not the most remembered of U.S. presidents. His time in the White House, while quietly effective, rarely garners him the same fanfare as Lincoln the Great Emancipator or Theodore Roosevelt, the Rough Rider. His harshest critics might even go so far as to call his presidency a shipwreck.

On this point, Arthurs fans and critics are united — at least in the sense of associating maritime disasters with the 21st president. Buried within the underappreciated narrative in this chapter of presidential history are the tales of two naval disasters that link Arthur to some of the most dramatic events of the 19th century.

Grab a life preserver and join us on a voyage into history as we explore Chester Arthur and the tangled web of fate.

The Heroism of William Lewis Herndon and the SS Central America

The SS Central America wasn’t just any ship; it was the Ship of Gold. In the mid-1850s, this 280-foot paddle steamer ferried passengers and wealth from the California Gold Rush to the East Coast. On September 3, 1857, the Central America set out from Aspinwall, Panama, laden with 15 tons of gold and 578 souls. Among them was Commander William Lewis Herndon, a Navy veteran and explorer who had previously charted the Amazon River. His vast experience only proved that even jungle expeditions were insufficient preparation for the storm brewing off the Carolinas.

On September 9, the Central America encountered a Category 2 hurricane that relentlessly battered the ship. By September 11, the winds had shredded its sails, and the storm’s pounding had opened leaks in the hull. Water poured in faster than the crew could pump it out. With steam pressure dropping, the ship lost its ability to propel or position itself. By September 12, it was clear the Central America was doomed.

Amid this chaos, Commander Herndon rose to the occasion. With limited lifeboat capacity, Herndon prioritized saving women and children. He supervised the difficult transfer of passengers to a passing brig, the Marine, ensuring the survival of 152 people. This act of courage marked only the second recorded instance of the now-famous “women and children first” rule being enforced during a shipwreck. (The first instance occurred in 1852 aboard the HMS Birkenhead, a tragedy chronicled in this article.) Heroically and tragically, Herndon refused to leave the ship. Survivors described seeing him on the deck, hat in hand, praying as the ship sank beneath the waves.

Of the 578 passengers and crew, only 153 survived. The loss of 425 lives made the sinking of the Central America the largest maritime disaster in U.S. history at the time. But the ramifications didn’t stop there.

Gold Beneath the Waves and the Panic of 1857

The Central America wasn’t just carrying passengers—it was carrying the hopes of the U.S. economy. With 15 tons of California gold valued at $8 million (or $765 million in today’s dollars), the ship’s cargo was a lifeline for banks teetering on the edge of financial instability. The loss of that gold proved catastrophic.

The financial system of 1857 wasn’t exactly robust. Banks still relied heavily on physical reserves, and much of the Central America’s gold was destined for the U.S. Mint. Its loss triggered a domino effect: banks couldn’t cover withdrawals, credit markets froze, and confidence in the economy plummeted. Thus began the Panic of 1857, one of the first major financial crises in U.S. history.

The Panic spread quickly, with businesses failing, unemployment skyrocketing, and the economic pain extending far beyond the immediate impact of the gold loss. The ripples of the Central America’s sinking were felt across the nation, a poignant reminder of how one event could destabilize an entire economy. Yet, amid this national turmoil, a personal connection to the disaster quietly took shape.

Chester Arthur and the Tangled Web of Fate

Among the countless lives forever changed by the wreck of the Central America was that of Ellen Lewis Herndon, the daughter of the heroic commander. Just two years after her father’s death, Ellen married a promising young lawyer from Vermont named Chester A. Arthur.

Sadly, Ellen died much too young. She caught a cold in January 1880 that quickly developed into pneumonia. She died on January 12, just 42 years old.

Arthur was grief stricken and found comfort by throwing himself into his work. No doubt he drew on his late father-in-law’s legacy of selfless service and bravery to get through these difficulty times, even if he rarely spoke of the tragedy that had helped shape his life.

Arthur had already made a name for himself in the New York Republican Party establishment. When the party met in Chicago just six months after Ellen’s death, Arthur’s name was fresh in the delegates’ minds. The quiet dignity with which he bore his grief made him a sympathetic figure. To the surprise of most — and particularly to Arthur — he received the GOP vice presidential nomination. In November, he achieved what many assumed would have been impossible when he was elected as the 20th Vice President of the United States.

As Arthur took the oath of office, one can only speculate about his thoughts. Still grieving the loss of his wife, he must have wondered how she would feel about his accomplishments. Perhaps he also reflected on the legacy he inherited from his father-in-law, the man who heroically went down with the SS Central America.

But this was not the only maritime disaster to shape Arthur’s presidency. Another shipwreck would pave the way for his ascension to power—this time, not through heroism but through an assassin’s delusions.

The Fiery End of the SS Narragansett

On June 11, 1880, another tragedy unfolded on the waters of Long Island Sound. The SS Narragansett, a passenger steamer, collided with its sister ship, the SS Stonington, in dense fog near the mouth of the Connecticut River. The Stonington limped back to port with no casualties, but the Narragansett wasn’t so fortunate. The collision tore a massive gash in its hull, and the ship erupted into flames, trapping passengers in a nightmare of smoke and fire. Approximately 50 lives were lost.

Among the survivors on the Stonington was Charles J. Guiteau, a man whose grip on reality was as tenuous as the ship’s seaworthiness.

Guiteau watched the largely-futile rescue efforts for the passengers of the doomed Narragansett and reflected on his own good fortune to have survived the tragedy. Then and there, he became convinced that he wasn’t merely lucky. He knew his life had been spared by God Himself. The purpose for this divine intervention was because the Almighty had singled out Charles Guiteau for a holy mission.

Guiteau returned to dry land as a changed man, driven by a compulsion to make sure his life had not been spared in vain. Thirteen months later, Guiteau fulfilled his destiny by fatally shooting President James A. Garfield. After firing the bullet into Garfield’s back, Guiteau calmly proclaimed, “… Now Arthur is president.”

Coincidence or Destiny?

It’s tempting to marvel at the sheer improbability of these events. Herndon’s heroism aboard the Central America directly shaped Arthur’s personal life, while the Narragansett disaster indirectly catapulted him into the presidency. Could events of such historic significance really be the random result of chaotic and interconnected events, where shipwrecks, assassins, and financial panics collide in ways no one could predict? Or could it be that Charles Guiteau wasn’t as entirely mad as history has made him out to be? Is there such a thing as destiny that can bring greatness out of tragedy?

Arthur himself was an enigmatic figure, thrust into power under tragic circumstances yet remembered for quietly steadying the ship of state. Perhaps it’s fitting that his life and presidency were so closely tied to maritime disasters. He carried the legacy of a hero like Herndon and bore the weight of a nation’s grief after Garfield’s death, all while navigating the choppy waters of politics with a calm that belied the storms that had shaped his rise.

Sunken Gold and Lingering Mysteries

The Central America left another legacy—one buried beneath 8,000 feet of ocean for over a century. In 1988, treasure hunters discovered the wreck and began recovering its fabled gold. The find sparked legal battles as insurers, investors, and salvagers squabbled over who owned the treasure. Meanwhile, artifacts like an 80-pound gold ingot (sold for $8 million) and a daguerreotype of a young woman reminded the world of the lives lost and the wealth that went down with the ship.

As for the Narragansett, its fiery demise remains a tragic footnote in history, overshadowed by the chaos it helped unleash. Guiteau’s deranged actions ensured that Arthur’s presidency would always carry the shadow of Garfield’s assassination. Yet, Arthur rose to the occasion, proving himself a capable leader despite the stormy circumstances of his rise.

The Ties That Bind

The stories of the Central America and the Narragansett may seem like disparate threads, but they weave together in the life of Chester A. Arthur. From the gold-laden decks of the Central America to the fiery collision that emboldened an assassin, these maritime disasters left an indelible mark on U.S. history—and on the life of one unassuming president.

In the end, Arthur’s story reminds us that history is full of unlikely connections. Sometimes, they rise from the watery grave of a shipwreck. And sometimes, they’re shaped by the quiet courage of a man who prayed on a sinking deck while ensuring others had a chance to live.

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