South Florida was a dangerous place for a lighthouse
keeper to work in 1836. Not only was
there deprivation and loneliness at the remote sites of lighthouses, but also
severe storms and heat. In addition, Seminoles
troubles were escalating. Angry about
plans for confinement on a reservation in the Midwest,
the Seminoles attacked and burned Florida
homesteads and outwitted military strategists.
Ultimately, they set their sights on the most obvious local symbol of
the U.S. Government – the lighthouse on Key Biscayne.
Following
the murder by Seminoles of a family in what is present-day Miami, Cape Florida Light’s principle keeper,
James Dubose, moved his family to Key
West to keep them safe. He was there in July 1836, visiting his wife
and children, when the lighthouse on Key Biscayne was attacked.
Alone
in the keeper’s quarters that afternoon was the assistant keeper, John Thompson,
and an elderly black named Henry Aaron Carter.
They were resting, taking refuge from the intense afternoon heat, when
the Seminoles approached in their canoes.
The men fled to the lighthouse with rifles and barred the door. Minutes later they heard the crackle of fire
outside and knew the Indians had torched the station. The blaze soon reached the wooden door. Realizing the cans of oil and ammunition in
the base of the lighthouse would ignite, the keepers fled up the wooden stairs,
carrying a keg of gunpowder.
At
the top of the lighthouse the keepers exchanged gunfire with the Seminoles, but
a greater threat soon occupied them.
Fire broke through to the base of the lighthouse, reached the oil
supply, and exploded in a fury that engulfed the wooden stairway. The tower’s hollow interior acted like a
flue, fanning the flames. Thompson and
Carter grabbed an axe and attempted to chop the blazing stairway loose, but the
incredible heat forced them back. Before long, the iron lantern was frying pan
hot.
In Thompson’s own words: “The lantern was now full of flame, the lamps
and glasses bursting and flying all directions, my clothes on fire, and to move
from the place where I was would be instant death from their rifles. My flesh was roasting…”
The
men crawled to the edge of the catwalk to escape the horrible inferno, but were
greeted by a hail of gunfire from the Seminoles. In agony, Carter stood up to jump from the
tower and was shot. Thompson retreated
inside the lantern enclosure, but his clothes were now on fire. Screaming and writhing with pain, he spied
the keg of gunpowder he had carried to the top of the lighthouse. Thinking to end the horrid ordeal, he rolled
the keg toward the access hole in the lantern floor and closed his eyes,
expecting the entire lighthouse to explode.
The
concussion of the blast rocked the tower and threw Thompson against the catwalk
railing, but the tower was not destroyed, nor was he killed. Nearby lay Carter with five bullets in his
body. He murmured something to Thompson
and died. The explosion had caused the
burning stairs to collapse to the bottom of the lighthouse, snuffing out the
flames. Dazed and badly burned, Thompson
lapsed into unconsciousness. Thinking
both men were dead, the Seminoles looted the house, stole Thompson’s boat, and
departed.
For
hours, Thompson lay inert on the top of the tower as the fire smoldered in its
base. He was burned over much of his
body, and several fingers and toes had been shot off in the gunfight. When night came, the lantern cooled but
hordes of mosquitoes descended to feast on his tortured flesh. With no way to get down, he resigned himself
to a slow death.
At
dawn he woke to the buzzing of flies and the awful scene of Carter’s bloated,
bullet-riddled body a few feet away.
Scanning the horizon with red, swollen eyes, he saw no sign of help –
only a trackless expanse of sea canopied by a clear blue sky and brutally hot
sun. Around noon, Thompson roused and saw a ship
offshore. He tore a piece of unburned
cloth from Carter’s trousers and waved it in hopes of being seen. After a few minutes exertion, he collapsed
again.
Sometime
later he heard voices on the ground below.
Pulling himself to the edge of the catwalk, he peered down cautiously,
worried the Seminoles might have returned.
But the voices did not belong to Indians. The ship had anchored, and men in blue
uniforms were searching the ruins. Thompson
knew he was saved. Feebly, he waved an
arm and called out for help.
The
seamen of the USS Motto looked up at
the charred lantern in disbelief. The
tormented soul who greeted them had no clothing, no hair, and bloody stumps
were many of his fingers and toes should have been. His skin was blistered and raw as a smoked
ham. They had heard the explosion of the
gunpowder keg the day before and found the sloop adrift. Smoke from the burning lighthouse had led
them to Cape Florida.
Excitedly,
the seamen made plans to rescue Thompson.
They tried several ways of getting a line to him, including throwing it
with a ball of shot and flying it up on a kite.
For twelve hours, they tried unsuccessfully. Thompson was growing weaker and had all but given
up on his rescuers. Finally, one sailor
devised a ramrod attached to twine and fired it onto the lantern. Cheering loudly, the men encouraged Thompson
to pull up a lifeline, which he did after much effort. A man climbed the rope and brought down the
near-dead keeper.
Thompson
was taken to Key West
and hospitalized. The Collector of
Customs for the town sent a letter to Stephen Pleasanton, who administered U.S.
lighthouses from Washington,
D.C.: “Thompson was brought to
this place & is in a fair way to do well.
Indeed his recovery is deemed certain, but it is feared he will be a
cripple for life. He being a seaman…I
have thought it equitable to extend the agreed aid to sick and disabled seamen.”
Following
his recovery, Thompson moved to Charleston,
South Carolina, where it is
believed he took up duties at another lighthouse. His story was told around the world, and as
an old man it is said he made money telling of his ordeal.
The
Cape Florida Lighthouse, gutted and scarred by the conflagration, stood dark
for a decade until Seminole troubles died down. Over two-hundred bullet holes
were found in the lantern, and it was discovered the original builder had
defrauded the government by constructing hollow walls, thus saving half the cost
of bricks. No such shortcut was used for
the new tower. It was repaired and strengthened,
and relighted in 1846.
Today, Cape Florida Lighthouse is handsome and kept in great shape. It's a popular park and museum on Key Biscayne. The old keepers' house has been rebuilt to house exhibits.
All photos are from the collection of the author.
