“But that jail is in terrible condition!” he said to the city fathers. “If anyone was locked up there and wanted to escape, they would only have to walk out!” His insistence fell on deaf ears. It seemed that no one wanted to listen, especially to the new sheriff, Charles Mifflin.
The old jail, or “calaboose” as it was called, sat on the southwest corner of Alcaniz and Intendencia Streets. The same old building had been there longer than anyone could remember – way before Pensacola became a US town. Everyone figured that the last time it had received attention was by the Spanish – maybe even the British more than 50 years before that! But, like most pressing matters, the city commissioners took the stance, “we will fix it when it becomes a problem.” That was their answer. Not a good answer, but an answer, nonetheless.
Charles Mifflin assumed the position of Escambia County Sheriff and tax collector in 1827. His appointment was made by Governor William DuVal on February 9, 1827. Six years prior to his appointment, Mifflin owned and operated Mifflin’s Sawmill, located on the Perdido River. He sold the mill in 1821. Mifflin was the first man to serve as sheriff in Escambia County that came from a business, and not a military background.
A unique set of incidents involving the legal wranglings of Martin Hutto began during Mifflin’s term as sheriff and continued into Sheriff Wilson’s tenure, who came afterward.
When the governance of Florida transferred from Spain to the United States, the state was divided into two parts: East and West Florida. West Florida extended from the Perdido River on the west to the Apalachicola River on the East. The main route of travel was known as the Old Spanish Trail. Truth is…it was called that, but probably in error. From the looks of the trail, it had been in existence for hundreds of years. It had been used by the Native Americans for many years.
Thomas Jones was a mail carrier. Twice a week, he made a trip to Alaqua, a settlement in today’s Walton County, Florida along the old Spanish Trail to deliver and pick up the mail. The round trip took three days. It was a lonely job, but it gave him the time to enjoy his travels. He knew every hill, every creek, and almost every tree along the way. He frequently met and passed others daily. Some became frequent contacts and even friends.
To an outsider, the thick, swampy, mosquito-infested woods of West Florida are nothing to desire, but to a West Floridian, it rates just this side of heaven! To smell the fresh loblolly pines, Apalachicola rosemary, and Sweet acacia while walking through the forest is refreshing. And nothing says southern like a huge live oak with Spanish moss hauntingly hanging from it. To top it off is the humid world that exists under the canopy of the trees – cottonmouth moccasins and yellow flies. Yep…says “home.”
If you follow the trail down further, you notice that the scenery changes. The pines and oaks are replaced with cedar and cypress, which hang over the trail like dark fingers grabbing for you. Palmettos and swamp milkweed line the sides, and the ground becomes more moist. Kinda creepy.
As he was making one of his trips on July 14, 1827, Thomas was approached by two men. One of them was a stout, intimidating, six-foot-tall man with dark hair and wild-looking whiskers, and a “Very Bad Countenance.” Thomas would never forget him. With a pistol, he fired a shot at Thomas but missed his head by an inch. The other man stabbed at him but only ripped his clothes. Thomas, on horseback, turned and put the animal to a fast gallop. Knowing the area so well helped him to escape the attack. He went to the nearest village and reported the crime.
Sheriff Mifflin was summoned. When he arrived and interviewed Mr. Jones, he immediately knew who the culprit was. It was the feared outlaw Martin Hutto. After all, who could mistake that description? And all of the lawmen in the area knew Hutto. Of course, it was him! An arrest warrant for the robbery and attempted murder of Jones was issued, and a reward was offered.
It wasn’t long before Hutto was apprehended. It was no easy task for the lawmen to chain him and bring him back to Pensacola, but they did. He was locked up in the old calaboose. How hard could it be to escape from a deplorable jail? Not hard. Just like the sheriff said, it wasn’t long before his cell was discovered empty. A reward of $80 was offered for his capture.
Hutto, now a fugitive on the run, thought about it. “There is another side to this story,” he said to himself. He was assured that, if he was able to let the sheriff know his side, he would be acquitted. So, he turned himself in. This time, though, the new Sheriff Wilson felt it better to have the prisoner held in the military jail at the nearby Cantonment Clinch on the bank of Bayou Chico (between today’s Brownsville and Warrington). Judge Brackenridge, who rode the circuit, was due to come into town in a few weeks, meaning that Hutto would soon be set free, or so he hoped.
Soon, the January 1828 court hearing arrived. Hutto was looking forward to giving his side and maybe talking the judge into letting him go. To Hutto’s dismay, however, Judge Brackenridge didn’t come for his usual hearing. He would not be in for six months. It would be May 1928 before Hutto would get his hearing. Further, his bail now had to be fixed until Judge Brackenridge could get there. Bail was set as two securities totaling $1500!
That was too much. Hutto promptly escaped for the second time on January 23, 1828. This time, a $30 reward was offered by the postmaster. It wasn’t as much, but it was enough, as he was recaptured and re-jailed.
Finally, the long-awaited day arrived. Judge Brackenridge was on the bench. However, Hutto found him not to be as accommodating as he had hoped. On May 7, he stood trial and was promptly convicted. While waiting for sentencing, he again absconded on May 15. He took with him another convict. Enoch Hoye. Enoch had been charged with and convicted of Burglary the day before. After the verdict was announced, Enoch was taken to the pillory in Ferdinand Plaza in downtown Pensacola and tied up. For the next 2 hours, he received 49 lashes for the first part of his sentence. He wasn’t about to serve the second part, so he dashed with Hutto. The two men headed west to Mobile, Alabama. He had said he wanted jump a ship and head north. This time, a fifty-dollar reward was offered. He was recaptured and sentenced to two years in prison.
Hutto escaped for the fourth time on March 27, 1829. He was never seen again. Sheriff Wilson began working with the Pensacola officials to make past needed repairs to the deplorable jail.
Interesting…