Built in 1875, the Thomas Point screw-pile lighthouse still stands today one mile offshore, where it remains a popular spot for sportfishing rockfish and, occasionally, public tours inside.
Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse, an icon of the Chesapeake Bay, a National Historic Landmark, and owned by the City of Annapolis, sits on five acres of undersea ground, a shoal, east of Annapolis. Under its first land grant from the Calvert family 350 years ago, Thomas Point was 121 acres of land connected to the peninsula between the Severn and South rivers. Bordering it were fertile oyster beds and good fishing along the South River and in today’s Fishing Creek, back then a lake.
The Point takes its name from early landowner Philip Thomas, perhaps a descendent of the King of England, Edward I, and his second wife, a Plantagenet, Queen Margaret, daughter of the King of France. Thomas, born in 1617 in Swansea, Wales, was a merchant in Bristol, a protestant and supporter of Cromwell or Parliamentary government, and arrived in Maryland in 1651 with his wife and three children to take up residence at Beckley, on the north shore of the Severn. Though generations removed from royalty, Thomas still had the qualities of leadership passed down through generations of Dukedoms and Knights of the Garter. In fact, Thomas had in his possession a gold-headed cane and a silver service with the coat of arms of Sir Rhys ap Thomas, a knight of the Garter of Castle Carew in Wales, from whom he was probably related.
Philip Thomas was a man of character and position who quickly became active in the affairs of Anne Arundel County and a leader of the Puritan Party. Within four years, by 1655, he would be a Lieutenant of the Provincial Forces, engaged in the Battle of the Severn.
From 1656 to 1659, Thomas was a high commissioner in Maryland’s government and an important vote in settling the differences with Governor Stone and returning Maryland back to the Proprietor Lord Baltimore. Shortly after, he dropped out of politics and joined the Society of Friends, later converting to Quakerism under the influence of George Fox (who spoke for four days at a meeting on the West River), while still acquiring multiple acres of land. In 1665, Thomas patented the 120-acreage known as Thomas Point, which he purchased from Captain William Fuller, the man who led the Puritan effort in the Battle of the Severn (the last gasp of the English Civil War and the first-time colonists fought colonists in battle within the new colony). The short skirmish on Horn Point ended in victory for the Puritans, who proceeded to execute the men they had defeated and whose leader, Governor Stone, a Protestant, had been appointed by the Catholic Calverts and invited them into Maryland. The Maryland colony—though founded by a Catholic—had passed an act of religious toleration in 1649 and was, therefore, considered a refuge for Puritans not welcome in Virginia.
Thomas bought a narrow peninsula bordered on the west by the South River and on the south by the Chesapeake Bay—a piece of land surrounding a lake with a narrow outlet to the river; a site presumably rich in oysters and refuge for wild fowl, and on its east side, a barren parcel of land. Thomas died in 1674 and is buried in Galesville. His many land holdings were eventually divided among his five children. Through his lineage, many future elected leaders and public servants with names prominent in Anne Arundel and Maryland history would be born, such as Talbot, Selby, MacGruder, Coale, Mears, Chew, Hill, Ogle, and Weems.
There is little indication that the landowners along the peninsula-built mansions or maintained plantations. Land ownership changed frequently. The Thomas family sold it in 1705. Over time, owners would include Benjamin Ogle, a governor of Maryland in 1800, and Jeremiah Chase, who left it to his niece who founded the Chase-Lloyd house on Maryland Avenue in Annapolis. Access to the bounty of the bay—its oysters, fish, and waterfowl—made this a survivor’s paradise. No doubt, the land was farmed and provided range for cattle and pigs, and offered a hard scrabble life for those who maintained it for the absentee land lords. It was also beautiful with breathtaking views of the bay, as well as scouting opportunities for ships heading to Annapolis or Baltimore with goods from England, Holland, and France.
In a different era, the Chesapeake and Columbia Investment Company saw this land as place for homes away from home. In 1890, they purchased Thomas Point and surrounding acreage to create a new resort, a cottage city for the elite of Washington, D.C. and Baltimore, and platted 350 building lots. Excluded, however, were 71 acres of a rapidly eroding Thomas Point. By some accounts, a storm in 1853 opened up a cut from the bayside, and the lake became Fishing Creek. Storms brought change to the land. Storms in 1915 and 1920 continued to chip away at Thomas Point and widen the creek. The hurricane of 1933 that changed Ocean City continued the erosion—just like in 1853, the storm bridged a sandy spit and opened the lake on what is today Back Creek in Annapolis.
In 1891, promotional articles described the new cottage town as near Bay Ridge and the “Coney Island of the South” with a Ferris wheel and dance halls, that also provided a quieter forested area with one of the finest picnic locations on the point. By 1925, storms on this unprotected and windy peninsula had delivered enough havoc that the Investment Company was declaring bankruptcy. The resort town (now known as Arundel on the Bay), became a thing of the past.
The 71 wooded acres of Thomas Point lingered on in their natural state. Purchased in 1914 by Charles F. Lee and Ridgely Melvin, it was again sold in 1917 to the Thomas Point Gunning Club, a men’s social club. Thirty years later, Jane Homer and Ferdinand Lee purchased the point and eventually transferred it to Anne Arundel County in 1960 for approximately $25, provided it be used for recreation and conservation purposes.
Thomas Point is now a county park. Accessed by permit, it is one of the county’s best kept secrets. Whittled down by erosion to 45 acres, the park is bounded by South River, Fishing Creek, and the Chesapeake Bay. Visitors are still treated to great scenic wander and superb fishing. An oyster midden on site testifies to the popularity of the space for Woodland Indians, dating to about 1000 AD. An artful blue dinosaur peeks out through the woods to greet visitors to this narrow spit of land and, if you are lucky, a live deer may welcome you, too. The point is reached by a narrow, 10-foot wide road through an equally narrow spit of wooded land. At its end, more than a mile off-shore is one of the state’s most iconic and photographed national landmarks, Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse. Storms and wind continue to batter the point that is now protected by rip-rap.
The park also boasts a cabin speculated to have been built by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) and the Works Progress Administration in the 1930s when still owned by the Gunning Club. Inside, a large stone fireplace with the names of members carved into the mantle (names like Alex Brown, J.E. Cullen, and Arthur Thompson) kept the hunters cozy and warm. The house has been vacant for 16 years, but before 2002 it was the home of Park Ranger Marion Coomes and his family, who built a pavilion and picnic tables and trimmed the forest land in the small park. While the point has changed its configuration, the views of Chesapeake Bay would have been much as Philip Thomas viewed them, and within 150 years, Annapolitans watched British war ships navigate the bay in the Revolutionary War and War of 1812 battles.
Thomas Point was, indeed, caught up in the War of 1812. Protecting Canada for English control was a major priority of the British. Hoping to force Americans to move troops from the Canadian border to protect the nation’s capital, British Rear Admiral George Cockburn proceeded on a slash and burn mission in towns along the Chesapeake Bay. President James Madison, however, refused to move the troops from the north. He also gave little federal support to the State of Maryland, citing in one instance that “it cannot be expected that I can protect every man’s turnip patch,” leaving state protection to the local militia. So alarmed was Maryland’s Governor Levin Winder that he called a special session of the state legislature on May 13th, 1813, to address the issue. Winder, a federalist who did not a support war, nevertheless galvanized the militia who proceeded to fortify along the Severn River. In Back Creek Park, east of Annapolis, along an ancient Indian trail, there is, what appears to be, an earthen bank that may have been a part of this effort.
Cockburn, a professional military man from powerful England, had no respect for a volunteer force of militia. When two spies from the HMS Menelaus anchored off the point, rowed six miles, walked around the city of Annapolis, and reported back that the beautiful city could easily be taken, the admiral was no doubt convinced of the militia’s ineptitude. Despite the devastation and plundering of Chesapeake small towns, Cockburn’s strategy was failing. Baltimore, D.C., or Annapolis would be a prize. There was consistent talk that Annapolis was to be sacked by the British. British naval officer diaries testify to seeing a fearful populous scurrying away with wagons loaded with household goods.
Ultimately, Annapolis was deemed well-protected by its forts on the Severn, but attacking the capital by land along the peninsula and then along roads established from Thomas Point to the city was considered. With 3,000 troops around Annapolis, Cockburn ultimately determined that attacking Annapolis would be a waste of resources needed for his primary target Washington, D.C. Additionally, a British frigate, while chasing the American schooners Active and Patapsco, ran aground on the Thomas Point shoal. Annapolis, though considered and plotted about, was not touched by either of the great wars of 1775 and 1812 thanks to a shallow bay shoreline and a well-fortified Severn River.
Twelve years after the grounding of British ships on Thomas Point shoal, a lighthouse was finally erected to alert the danger of the shallow water on the west side of the bay. In 1821, William Barney, the naval officer for the Port of Baltimore, wrote to the U.S. Treasury requesting the need for a lighthouse on Thomas Point. Seven acres of land was given to the federal government by the then-owner Jeremiah Chase and $6,500 was authorized by Congress to contract the Donoho Company to build a land-based lighthouse. On May 26th, 1824, a conical 30-foot tall tower rose on a bluff overlooking the bay. A stone keeper’s cottage of two rooms with two fireplaces was also included. By 1833, the bluff was eroding and the lighthouse was in danger of toppling over, which it did many years later after being moved, in 1840, behind the keeper’s cottage. Erosion continued to wreak havoc on Thomas Point. On Feb 28th, 1894, the round stone tower collapsed into the water at its base.
By 1872, repairs and maintenance to the on-shore lighthouse signaled the need for change. A third lighthouse, the final one, was installed in 1875. It was built a mile off shore, where it remains today, and is a screw-pile lighthouse—one of the few remaining from the 1800s.
An Irish engineer, Alexander Mitchell, who was blind by the age of 22, is known as the inventor of the screw-pile lighthouse, patented in 1833. The screw-pile stands on piles or spider-like legs screwed into the river or bay bottoms. Atop the legs is an octagonal keeper’s home and above that, a light that can be seen from miles away. Easy to construct and relatively less expensive than round caisson type towers, screw-piles were built along the Chesapeake Bay, Delaware Bay, Gulf of Mexico, and Long Island Sound. Mitchell’s designs were used worldwide. Few survive today, as ice destroyed them. The world was colder 150 years ago; the bay was often so thick with ice, people could walk across it. Ice off Thomas Point in February 1865 blocked President Abraham Lincoln’s journey to Hampton Roads to negotiate a truce for the Civil War.
Ice breaking up and flowing down the bay simply shirred the spider legs of the screw-piles. In January 1877, ice tore the house off the Hooper’s Strait Light and sent it floating five miles down the bay. The two keepers of the light who managed to escape spent a shivering 24 hours on the ice flows before rescue. Despite the harrowing experience, they agreed to go back to a new light house at Hooper’s Strait. As lighthouses became automated and keepers were no longer needed, the Coast Guard began to disassemble the cottages. Threatened with demolition, the new Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum acquired Hooper’s Light and moved it to St. Michaels in 1966. This was the first preservation effort of its kind in the bay and set a precedent for more to come.
The Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse is the most recognized of the Chesapeake Bay lighthouses with its white sides and red roof. Its two-story cottage sits adopt spidering legs sunk through the bay bottom to bedrock 22 feet below the water surface. Today, Thomas Point welcomes visitors to climb the narrow stairs to the living quarters of the once-upon-a-time lighthouse keeper. It can only be reached by boat, and tours are very limited. That it exists is due to the interest, perseverance, and dedication of hundreds of volunteers.
Like other lighthouses, it was slated for destruction. Buoyed by the preservation efforts of a new National Historical Society, it was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1975, thus protecting it from destruction. Twenty-four years later, it would receive the highest honor as a designated National Landmark, one of 11 so noted in the nation. The lighthouse would be automated in 1986, ending 111 years of the longest manned lighthouse on the bay.
The attractive cottage may look like a comfy place for a night or two away from home, but it was not a family abode. Lighthouse keepers were men only, staying for weeks at a time in the confining space, surrounded by water that could be violent. High storm waves battered the serene cottage. Ice shook it enough to topple its lens. To protect it from an ice disaster, another screw-pile of iron was situated 90 feet away and stacked with rocks to split ice flows that could, if unchecked, send Thomas Point traveling. The protection worked. Only twice, in 1918 and 1940, were keepers of the lighthouse evacuated for safety.
On bluebird days, keepers fished, played Solitaire, or read books. Occasionally, supplies of food would be brought from the land. Situated on the historic oyster bed, keepers could help in guarding against poachers—out-of-state watermen attempting to raid the bay of its “golden harvest.”
In the 1880s, the bay was the biggest supplier of the world’s oysters, the richest oyster habitat on earth. As oyster beds in New York and New England were depleted, they gravitated to the Chesapeake, defying the state laws. Shoal areas, in brackish water at the mouths of rivers that supplied plankton, were natural feeding grounds for oysters. Poachers continued their “war” in Chesapeake waters for 100 years until there wasn’t much left to poach. Keepers would record boat descriptions and report them to Maryland’s Oyster Navy.
In 2002, the federal government decided to declare Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse as surplus. Members of the U.S. Lighthouse Society organized to save it from private ownership. In July 2004, a quitclaim deed was declared in a ceremony on Annapolis’ City Dock and the title to Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse, signed by the mayor, was transferred to the City of Annapolis. At the same time, a management agreement with the Chesapeake Chapter of the Lighthouse Society was entered into. They, in a true labor of love, partnered with Anne Arundel County and the Annapolis Maritime Museum and have devoted time, sweat, and bundles of money to restore, care for, and catalogue the stories of the many “keepers of the light” to share with an enthusiastic public.
Tours of the restored lighthouse begin from the Annapolis Maritime Museum on Second Street and Back Creek in Eastport, Annapolis. Available during the summer months, visitors board an 18-passenger bay—built boat for a 30-minute ride to Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse. And then, climb steep and narrow ladders to the interior, where people once lived and worked and cooked and tended the light and the fog horns to warn bay skippers of danger ahead.
