The Pirates, the Curse, and the Hanging Tree of Key Marco

Before it was Key Marco, it was Horr’s Island, but before Captain John T. Horr came and settled on the ancient Indian mounds that are modern day Key Marco, there were dark deeds afoot that even today haunt the hills that rise just to the south of Marco Island.

Since the early 1700’s, old Spanish charts directed mariners to Caxambas as a place to find fresh water and careen and repair ships. According to legend, sometime around 1799, a nest of pirates found the sheltered coves and rising shell mounds at Key Marco to be the perfect haven for launching attacks on merchant vessels sailing down the coast from Tampa and New Orleans.

The pirates at one time were apparently several dozen in number and were so successful in their bloodthirsty endeavors that the U.S. Navy was given standing orders to seek out this Southwest Florida band of cutthroats and place a torch to the swashbuckler’s village that was apparently just to the north of Cape Romano.

The pirates, of course, were not ignorant of the Navy’s intentions. With every new ship that was plundered, stories of naval searches along the southwest coast became commonplace and troublesome. But the pirates were pirates after all, and after two cannons were hauled atop the highest Indian mound and pointed outward to cover Caxambas Pass, the buccaneers were confident that either the Navy would never find them hidden behind the mangroves and the rising shell mounds, or that with a few well-placed cannon shots, any unwelcome invaders would be easily discouraged.

As the seasons passed and as the pirates continued to plunder, the owners of the lost ships and cargos began screaming their protests in every capital city. The pirates of Southwest Florida must be uprooted and brought to justice, the merchants reasoned, and why can’t the Navy deal with a bunch of murdering scallywags?

After another year of the skull and crossbones flying atop the marauding schooners sailing in the Ten Thousand Islands, a special task force of Marines and U.S. Navy was sent on a mission of finding the pirates and taking no prisoners.

As the tale is told, when the Navy did approach from Key West, a fleet of three ships was hidden over the horizon as smaller vessels went searching along the beaches and the mangroves to ferret out the mysterious buccaneer base.

With a full moon rising and bringing in a flood tide, six Marines made landfall on the big beach at San Marco to make camp and investigate the largest of the islands. Under cover of darkness, the Marines made their way through mosquitoes and mangrove thickets until they saw a rising glow coming from a neighboring island.

As the Marines cautiously advanced, they saw from across a waterway the pirate village that many believed was actually in Cuba. The pirates were indeed in Southwest Florida and their drunken antics were obvious. Four shallow-water schooners were at anchor beside a rising shell mound, and under the moonlight with several blazing fires, were the pirates of San Marco. The buccaneers, encouraged by the full moon, were well underway into a rum-fueled wild boar feast along with several women prisoners who were captives from looted ships.

The following day, the Marines returned in their longboats to the offshore ships and made their report. At sunset, an overwhelming company of naval forces and Marines attacked and found the pirates still groggy from the previous night of bootlegging antics.

There was never a shot fired from the pirate cannons because most of the San Marco pirates were either slain in a brief battle or made their escape into the mangroves. After a day of searching, six of the surly buccaneers were taken prisoner, tied by the hands, and presented before the U.S. naval commander.

As the moon once again began to rise, and as the liberated women watched with the Marines and the naval officers, a huge gumbo-limbo tree was selected and six hangman’s knots were tied and the nooses thrown over several different sturdy branches.

As the naval commander’s voice rose into the night, the pirates struggled against their bonds.

“By the order of the power invested in me by the U.S. Navy,” the naval officer declared, “for crimes of piracy, kidnapping, and murder, I hereby order you hung by the neck until you are dead. May God have mercy on your souls.”

“A word in your ear, my Lord,” the eldest of the Key Marco pirates warned as he stared down the much younger commander. “Afore you be hanging us, there is something you all should know. My bully boys and me, we be taken an oath to come back to this island long after we be dead and gone. We’ll gladly go as prisoners and you’ll be free of our curse, but if you hang us here on that foul old tree, all six of us, sure as the moon rises, will come back to get you and haunt these shell mounds forever.”

Although the young naval commander shivered with superstition, as did most of the women and a few of the Marines, the nooses were pulled tight and the captured San Marco pirates were hung together on the Island that is now Key Marco.

The moon that rose that night was the harvest moon and to this day, when the harvest moon rises over Key Marco, the lights of a pirate campfire can sometimes be seen dancing around the old hanging tree…even if there is no fire.

Although most of the pirate stories cannot be substantiated, rumors persist that the hanging tree and the pirates of Key Marco did exist along with a pirate’s mark carved into the largest gumbo-limbo tree on Captain Horr’s island.

During an early 1970’s film documentary “pirate carvings” were indeed found on a very old and large gumbo limbo tree during an extensive exploration of what is now Key Marco.

Happy October and Halloween!