The Picnic Shooting at Blue Hole (September 28, 1869)

Blue Hole Spring at Florida Caverns State Park

A shooting near Blue Hole Spring in today's Florida Caverns State Park ignited one of the bloodiest confrontations of the Reconstruction-era. Often called the "picnic shooting," it occurred on September 28, 1869.

Like many such events about which little is known, the Picnic Shooting has grown considerably in the telling. Recent writers have called it a massacre. Others say it was an example of political assassination by a band of "regulators" intent on stamping out justice and fair treatment for black citizens recently freed from slavery.

There are several versions of what happened, but several basic facts are known. Calvin Rogers, an African American and the Reconstruction-era constable of Jackson County, was leading a party of picnic-goers along Carter's Mill Road. The group was on its way to celebrate the Union victory at the Battle of Marianna, a military encounter that allowed more than 600 enslaved men, women, and children to escape to freedom. It was the first and largest mass emancipation of slaves by force of arms in the county's history.

As the party approached the spring, Rogers walked ahead of the group and disappeared around a bend in the road. He suddenly called out that he had been shot at, although no eyewitnesses described hearing gunfire:

...He then called for Wyatt Scurlock, one of his friends, who on his approach to Rogers caught up a child, and he and the child were killed by one shot from some unknown person. Rogers, with the party, returned to Marianna, and with a party of whites and blacks, went in search of the murderer. They could find no clue to the perpetrator of the deed. (Macon Telegraph, 10/15/1869)

Hurricane Michael heavily damaged the area around the 

spring, which remains closed at this time.

The tragic incident could not have come at a worse time for the citizens of Jackson County. The county's federally-appointed sheriff, John W. King, had absconded with a large part of the county's treasury just four days earlier. Rogers was the constable, but he was involved in the shooting which precluded him from conducting an investigation. There was simply no law enforcement in the county to which the people could turn for help.

A coroner's inquest was held in the style of that era and a determination was reached that Scurlock and the child were killed by a shot fired by an unknown person. The posse searched but failed to find any trace of the murderer, with the possible exception of some hoof prints along the road. Both the coroner's jury and the posse included both white and black residents of the community.

The Picnic Shooting was not a massacre, as some modern journalists and writers have claimed, but it was tragic. No one was ever arrested in the case, largely because the governor - who controlled political appointments in the state - could not find a competent sheriff to serve in Jackson County.

Many questions about the incident remain unanswered. Why did Constable Rogers go ahead of the main group? Why did he call for Scurlock by name from an unseen location after claiming that a shot had been fired at him, a shot that no one else in the group heard?  The circumstances were suspicious but any hope of a thorough investigation ended when Marianna exploded with violence over the coming days.

The citizens, once again both black and white, convened a public meeting in the wake of the shooting. A number of Marianna's principal business leaders offered a reward for the apprehension of the person or persons responsible for the crimes. No one ever claimed the reward and Wyatt Scurlock and the child in his arms became statistics of Florida's Reconstruction-era.

The murders sparked demands for retaliation in some circles, based on the assumption that white leaders of the Democratic party had assassinated Scurlock for his role in Republican politics. The suspicions were never proved, but it did not take long for someone to strike back against one of Jackson County's key white leaders. 

Learn more: The Killing of Maggie McClellan: A Reconstruction-era tragedy in Jackson County, Florida

The site of the incident is within the boundaries of today's Florida Caverns State Park. The Blue Hole Spring still flows nearby, but the area around it was heavily damaged by Hurricane Michael on October 10, 2018. Cave tours have resumed at the park, but the Blue Hole remains closed until further repairs can be made.

This video will give you a quick look at Blue Hole Spring as it appears today (post-Hurricane Michael):


This video will take you on a fascinating flashlight tour of the main tour cave at Florida Caverns State Park:

The Killing of Maggie McClellan: A Reconstruction Tragedy in Jackson County

Col. James F. McClellan

The years after the Civil War were the most turbulent in the history of Jackson County, Florida.

Local control had been stripped from the people in Florida's counties. All local officials of any consequence were appointed by the governor.

It was a challenging time, with whites and blacks alike trying to adjust to the new order of life after the end of slavery. Crop failures and a bleak economy caused hunger and suffering, while U.S. soldiers often marched the streets to enforce the will of local officials against whom citizens had no recourse.

The number of assassinations or politically-targeted killings in the county never approached the estimates given by some modern writers. The closest the area came to a real "Jackson County War," in fact, was in the days following the murder of young Maggie McClellan on October 1, 1869.

The tragedy electrified Jackson County residents and ignited a violent outbreak that has assumed legendary status in Florida history. Miss McClellan was sitting on a boarding house veranda facing today's Jackson Street in Marianna when shots suddenly rang out in the dark. Col. James F. McClellan, the young woman's father, was wounded in the attack but held her in his arms as she quickly bled to death from a bullet wound to the heart. 

Jackson County Courthouse, the late 1800s

The boarding house attack was long shrouded by mystery and speculation. The discovery of a trove of Reconstruction-era documents during the demolition of the old Jackson County Jail, however, shed new light on the incident.

The documents, still bound in ribbons and sealed in the wax, included the case file and testimony from the trial of Alex Dickens. A freedman or former slave, he was convicted of being an accessory to McClellan's murder.

It is crucial when considering such cases to remember that the court system was then controlled by former Union officers and officials and not local residents. Dickens was judged by a jury that included both white and back members, while the judge was a Nothern appointee.

Perhaps the most poignant testimony heard during the trial was that given by Maggie's father, Col. James F. McClellan:

Lafayette Street in Marianna, the late 1800s

  James F. McClellan being duly sworn says that on Friday evening, Oct. 1^st, 1869, between half past seven and eight o’clock (an hour in the night at least) at the Hotel (Mrs. Attaway’s) in town, my daughter Margaret Y. McClellan, James P. Coker, Miss Mary Ann Tillinghast, Miss Mollie Attaway and I were sitting in the front piazza, and were talking at the time. Am confident I was talking at the time. I was sitting near the right hand pillar as you pass in to the parlor. Col. Coker was at my left and the rest of the company also. I heard a slight noise near the fence which at the moment I supposed to be a calf or other animal. Immediately after I heard in a low but very distinct whisper the word “fire” which I recognized as the voice of Calvin Rogers. Instantaneously following the word fire was the report of two guns. They were just enough apart to distinguish that they were two guns fired very near to me. I felt the concussion. The charge of one of the guns hit me in the shoulder, passing out in the muscle of the arm. Either the same charge, or the other, hit my daughter immediately in the breast with four or five shot. I saw that she was hit from the fall of her head on her breast. The load that hit me produced some concussion to the nervous system but I soon recovered, and I said to the company to go into the house. I found my arm around my daughter and carried her into the passage where she slipped out of the chair and was carried into the room where she died a few moments after. She breathed I think but twice after being laid upon the bead. This occurred in Jackson County. The order to fire was in a suppressed tone but was very distinct. At first I thought I heard a hog or calf or something like a shuffle on the pavement. It was in a low tone, but very distinct. I know Calvin Rogers very well. I remember once to have heard him prompt a witness in a whisper before going before a Justice of the Peace. It was a distinct whisper. I have never had any doubt that it was the voice of Calvin Rogers. His enunciation was very distinct whether whispering or speaking. More so than other persons. I have never seen him since until the 27^th of January. He was then dead. His residence was at that time in this place, and he was in Marianna almost daily. From the time of the killing, although diligent search was made, I have never been able to found out his exact whereabouts, was alleged he was in the county. The next morning I sued out a warrant for him. I think not later than nine o’clock. He was not arrested on that warrant, but was taken. I sued on another warrant. On the morning after the killing I made affidavit before Justice Dickinson of the murder of my daughter, Margaret Y. McClellan, against Rovers, on which, I believe, a warrant was issued. On the Tuesday or Wednesday afterwards I made affidavit before Adam McNealy, Justice of the Peace, charging Rogers with the same murder, and had seven or eight warrants issued and placed in the hands of the parties deputized. When Mr. West was appointed Sheriff, I had a warrant placed in his hands. After an indictment was made against him I consulted with Mr. West and with Mr. Davis as to the best means of capturing him believing that he was still in the county.

John Q. Dickinson
Clerk of Court during Dickens Trial

  An indictment was found against him at the next term of the Court. A public meeting was held nine or ten days after the murder at which a thousand dollars was offered for his capture. I subsequently published in the “Courier” a statement guaranteeing this reward. A large reward was offered by the Executive for the apprehension & conviction of the murderer of my daughter. Am uncertain whether Rogers’ name is in proclamation or no.

--

Col. McClellan's testimony, which offers a heartbreaking description of his daughter's death, was taken on May 21, 1870.

Maggie McClellan's murder sparked a regional manhunt for the suspected assassin, a freedman named Calvin Rogers. He was the constable of Jackson County when the assassination took place but died of gunshot wounds in a confrontation with a Jackson County Sheriff's posse near present-day Graceville.

Modern writers claim that Rogers was lynched or murdered, but he died while attempting to escape from sheriff's deputy who was trying to arrest him on an indictment for murder. The records and testimony surrounding the incident were also found in the trove of Reconstruction documents.

A rash of murders following Maggie McClellan's death leading Federal authorities to order soldiers back to the streets of Marianna. 

To read another eyewitness account of Maggie's murder, please click here: http://twoegg.blogspot.com/2012/02/another-account-of-killing-of-maggie.html.

A Congressman and a state senator take hostages in Jackson County

Rep. Charles M. Hamilton
(R) Florida

by Dale Cox

You often hear about members of Congress from one party or the other holding senior citizens hostage. It is usually a rhetorical device employed in debates over Social Security or Medicare, but it actually happened in Jackson County, Florida.

A Member of Congress took an elderly man hostage at Marianna in 1870 and used him as a human shield. In fact, he was even assisted by the U.S. Assessor - or tax man - for Florida!

The incident took place during the heated campaign leading up to the election of 1870. Rep. Charles M. Hamilton, a Republican, represented Florida in Congress and claimed to live in Jackson County although he had not so much as visited the county in over one year.

The same was true of state Sen. William J. Purman, who double-dipped as U.S. Assessor for Florida. He represented Jackson County's district at the State Capitol, although he lived in Tallahassee.

Both men were Carpetbaggers - a term used by white and sometimes black Southerners to refer to Northerners who came South after the Civil War or War Between the States to seek office or establish businesses.

Hamilton and Purman arrived at Marianna in 1866 as the agent and assistant agent of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands - usually called the Freedmen's Bureau or just The Bureau.

Bureau agents did respectable work in many areas, smoothing the way for African Americans as they made the transition from slavery to freedom. They helped the former slaves - who were called Freedmen - negotiate labor contracts, opened schools for black and white children alike, and even distributed rations to starving people of all races in war-ravaged areas.

Sen. William J. Purman

Hamilton and Purman, however, engaged in a series of bitter confrontations with Jackson County residents, exceeded their legal authority by ordering armed gangs to kidnap citizens who defied them and were accused of numerous improprieties by a U.S. Army officer sent to investigate their activities.

Hamilton, in fact, went so far as to urge - in writing - the killing of white citizens by black citizens and the start of a race war of sorts in Jackson County. He was under indictment for kidnapping in the Circuit Court - which was then under the control of the Reconstruction government - when he was named as Florida's sole U.S. Congressman and left the county.

Purman, who took over as Bureau agent in Marianna after Hamilton's departure, was wounded in an assassination attempt and left Jackson County for Tallahassee, where he represented the county in the state legislature even though he no longer lived there. To his credit, he intervened and stopped the race war that Hamilton attempted to ignite.

As the election of 1870 heated up, more Democrats - many of whom were former Confederates - registered to vote and formerly untouchable politicians like Hamilton and Purman faced at least a minimal political threat. So, the two men came back to Jackson County on a campaign swing. As they did, one of Florida's leading African American officials accused them both of being little more than thieves, a sign that their popularity was falling with both races.

Marianna in the late 1800s

The Congressman and state senator conferred with Sheriff Thomas West,  an appointee of Florida's Reconstruction Governor, who called for an armed posse of 500 men to escort them out of the county. There were clear signs that the population did not intend to let Hamilton and Purman leave Jackson County alive and West - who was generally liked by both sides in the growing Reconstruction era bitterness - feared for their lives.

Many citizens, however, feared that the appearance of such an armed irregular posse would lead to the violence it was intended to prevent. A delegation of Marianna's older and more-established citizens went to West, Hamilton, and Purman to try to convince them of the error of the plan:

When the older citizens found such was to be the program, they immediately came to us, and begged, for God’s sake, that we should not call out such a posse, saying that their young men would not stand it; that war would take place right away at once. They said: “Ask any means for your safety, and you shall have it.” Thereupon, we selected ten of the oldest and best citizens as hostages. - Testimony by William J. Purman, November 11, 1871.

Purman later testified about the events before a Select Subcommittee of the U.S. Congress investigating the outbreak of violence in Jackson County. The members were stunned to some degree that a sitting member of the U.S. House of Representatives (Hamilton) and a Federal official (Purman) would resort to such drastic measures:

Question. You spoke of some ten or twelve old men going with you as hostages. Do you mean by that they went out to answer with their lives for any assault on you?

Answer. No, sir; I will explain what I mean, Mr. Senator. There were fifteen of us, and ten of them, and had we been attacked, and had it become necessary to go on, spiritually speaking, into the land of Canaan, every one of those men would have gone with us.

Question. You would have murdered those old men?

Answer. We would not have gone alone ; we would have done what it is said Indians have done under certain circumstances. We have heard of Indians, who, when pursued, would interpose the women and children they may have kidnapped between the guns of their enemies and themselves. Had we been pursued in that way, we would have made a bulwark of those hostages.

No censure or other action was taken against Hamilton or Purman for their role in the episode, but fortunately, no violence occurred as the party made its way from Marianna to Tallahassee by way of Bainbridge, Georgia.

At least one modern writer has justified the taking of elderly peacemakers as hostages and using them as human shields by a U.S. Congressman and the equivalent of an IRS agent. In truth, it is difficult to justify such actions in any circumstance.

The violence in Jackson County continued in spells from 1865 to 1876 and occasionally after that. As is often the case, events that were domestic or personal in nature have been included in tabulations of political assassinations created by modern historians, but there can be no disputing that it was a bitter and stressful time.


The use of American citizens as human shields by two Federal authorities in Jackson County worked in that both escaped with their lives. They never faced legal consequences for their roles in the episode.

Legend of the Courthouse Cave in Marianna, Florida

Entrance to the Courthouse Cave

by Dale Cox

The legendary Courthouse Cave that runs beneath the City of Marianna is the subject of a very old story that is told in many different forms.

One popular version holds that the Jackson County Courthouse itself could disappear at any minute due to a collapse of the mysterious cavern. They point to cracks visible in the courthouse as evidence that the weight of the structure is pressing down on the ceiling of the cave.

Inside the cave, looking into a natural "forest" of formations

Another version tells of how early explorers could hear courtroom activity from above while deep within the cave.

Many if not most Jackson County residents have heard folklore about the cave. Here is the real story:The Courthouse Cave legend originates from a story that has been told around Marianna since at least the late 1800s. According to that tale, a pair of teenage friends were exploring the cave when their torch went out and they found themselves trapped in total darkness. Unsure of which way to go, they wandered deeper and deeper into the cave.

Passage leading deep under Marianna

Search parties were organized and groups of local men launched a rescue effort that took them deeper into the cave than any of them had ever been. The missing teenagers were found and brought out alive, but the rescuers told a fascinating story. At one point far into the cave they said that they heard sounds echoing down its passages. Thinking these sounds might be coming from the lost teenagers, the rescuers searched for their source. According to the legend, the noises turned out to be the sounds of courtroom activity drifting down through the roof of the cave!

So is the story true?  Well, let's just say that it is one of hundreds of colorful Jackson County stories that result from a bit of exaggeration.

There is in fact a large cavern called the Courthouse Cave that runs deep under part of the City of Marianna, even though it doesn't quite reach all the way to the courthouse and worries of the building tumbling into it have no foundation.

I will be a little circumspect about its actual location, but the cave stretches for hundreds of yards beneath parts of Marianna. Experienced cavers have explored and mapped it, learning in the process that its myriad of passages connect to at least two other named caves.

Inside the Courthouse Cave

While the story of being able to hear courtroom activity deep inside the cave is not true, it does have a rich and important history. Prehistoric American Indian artifacts dating back thousands of years have been found inside the entrance, clear evidence that hunting parties used it as shelter when hunting along the hills on which Marianna was later founded.

On September 27, 1864, the day of the Battle of Marianna, the cave provided shelter and a hiding place for many of the city's women, children and elderly. The Union troops arrived on the west side of Marianna so quickly that many of the town's people did not have time to evacuate. As the men and boys gathered on Courthouse Square to organize for the fight, noncombatants headed for the Courthouse Cave.

View of a connecting passage in Courthouse Cave

The presence of the cave was never discovered by the Union soldiers and many Marianna residents remained safely hidden there with their valuables while the battle took place overhead. They emerged the next day after the Federal troops withdrew only to find that their homes had been ransacked and vandalized. This story is not a legend, but was told by many of those who survived the Battle of Marianna until the day they died.

Another story that may or may not be legend holds that members of the Republican Party hid arms, ammunition and assassins in the cave during the Reconstruction-era violence that swept through Jackson County in 1865-1876. Documentation of this has not been found, but the cavern's proximity to the scenes of some of the most severe violence of that era adds credibility to the tale.

During the Prohibition era (1920-1933), the cave was used as a place to store secret stocks of bootleg liquor. While claims that a speakeasy or illegal bar called the "Bloody Bucket" operated in it may or may not be true, evidence of moonshiner activity has been found in several Jackson County caves.

The stories all combine to make the cave a myseterious and fascinating place.

It is on private property and not open to the public.

Please click play below to enjoy a "behind the scenes" visit to another legendary Jackson County cave:




To learn more about caves and their place in Jackson County's history, please enjoy the books below from author Dale Cox: 

Riverside Cemetery turns 190 years old

The old section of historic Riverside Cemetery in Marianna.

Riverside Cemetery is a historic burial ground in the southeast corner of the charming old city of Marianna, Florida. It turns 190 years old this year.

Riverside was laid out by Robert and Anna Beveridge in 1827. They new that their soon to be developed town would need a public burial ground. They selected a spot on a separate hill just beyond their planned community.

The Beveridges had come down to Florida from Baltimore, Maryland. Mr. Beveridge was a successful merchant and with his wife possessed strong political connections. Their investors included many prominent allies of Andrew Jackson.

Grave of Arthur Lewis
Killed in the Battle of Marianna

Sadly, one of the first people to be buried in the cemetery was Mrs. Beveridge herself. She was only 24 years old but already the mother of three children when she came down with the fever and died on March 24, 1830.

She was buried in Riverside Cemetery, but the location of her grave site has been lost to time. It is certainly possible that she is buried in one of the ancient brick crypts in the oldest part of the cemetery.

The section includes some of the oldest oak trees in Marianna.

The former area where both slaves and free African Americans were buried is just downhill from the crypts and markers of Marianna's earliest white settlers. The wooden markers that once designated the burial places of early African American residents have long since rotted away, although indentations in the ground still mark their graves in the southwest corner of the oldest part of the cemetery.

Burial trenches of Confederate soldiers at Riverside Cemetery.

Two burial trenches contain the remains Confederate soldiers who died at the Marianna Post Hospital in 1863-1865. Most of these men were the victims of illness or infections and their graves are marked by small headstones. Near them rest several of the local citizens and soldiers who died in the Battle of Marianna on September 27, 1864.

Separated from the area of oldest graves is a single monument to a Union soldier, Lt. Isaac Adams of the 2nd Maine Cavalry. He was mortally wounded in the Battle of Marianna.

Adams no longer rests at Riverside, but his monument remains.  He and other Union dead from the battle were exhumed during the late 1800s and their remains taken to Barrancas National Cemetery near Pensacola.

Monument to Lt. Isaac Adams, 2nd Maine Cavalry

The lieutenant's grave played a key role in the Reconstruction era confrontations that rocked Jackson County. Several young girls - relatives of men and boys killed in the Battle of Marianna - removed the flowers from Lt. Adams' grave and scattered them in the dirt. They were hauled before a military court, but showed up with backing from almost the entire community.

The Carpetbagger officials who ruled Marianna after the War Between the States (or Civil War) backed down in the face of this show of support and released the girls. The incident is remembered today as the "Battle of the Flowers" and was the beginning of the local uprising that eventually drove out the occupying force that controlled Jackson County from 1865-1876.

Riverside Cemetery is a peaceful and beautiful place. The azaleas and dogwoods bloom each spring, giving the cemetery a surreal charm.

A stroll through its acres and acres of stones and graves offers you the chance to walk not just through the history of Marianna and Jackson County, but through the history of Florida, the South and the Nation.

The main entrances to the oldest part of the cemetery are on Franklin Street, two blocks south of Jackson Street, in Marianna, Florida. It is open to the public during daylight hours.

A mystery of murder & missing gold on the Ocheesee Road!

This rare 1849 $20 gold piece is at the National Museum of
American History. Could a treasure of similar coins worth
millions of dollars be hidden south of Grand Ridge, Florida?
National Numismatic Collection, National Museum of American History

The end of the War Between the States (or Civil War) brought with it a time of hunger and starvation for people of all races in the rural counties of the Florida Panhandle. It was also a time when ruthless outlaws, many of them deserters from either the Union or Confederate army, stalked the roads and byways in search of plunder.

It was a time when anyone thought to possess gold or other valuables could quickly become the victim of a robbery or worse. 

A man named S.D. Thom learned this deadly lesson on the night of September 2-3, 1865, when he set off from Ocheesee Landing in Calhoun County to meet up with a man named Luke Lott:

Thom came ashore at Ocheesee Bluff in Calhoun County,
Florida. He traveled west from here to meet with Luke Lott.

From a private letter, written from Chattahoochee on the 6th, we learn that Mr. S.D. Thom, a well-known citizen of Columbus, was found dead, on Sunday, Sept. 3d, on the road between Luke Lott's house and Gregory's saw-mill, in Jackson county, Fla., about fifteen miles from Ocheesee, with nine buckshot in his body. He was buried on the 4th. - Columbus Daily Enquirer, September 19, 1865.

Thom, as the above excerpt notes, was a prominent businessman in Columbus, Georgia. He had gone down the Chattahoochee River from that city in a small boat and stayed with a friend named A.D. Bull on the night of August 26th:

...[H]e showed a bag which he said contained $800 in gold, and told his host that he was going to see Mr. Luke Lott, whom he knew, and whom he had promised a visit, if he ever came to Florida, to buy bacon. He left the next morning in a bateaux, a negro being with him, for Lott's place. - Columbus Daily Enquirer, September 19, 1865.

Calhoun County as it appeared in 1860
when it still extended all the way to the
Gulf of Mexico. Ocheesee is at the top left.

The mention that Thom had gone to Florida to "buy bacon" means that he was planning to purchase a large supply of pork. He was engaged in business in Columbus and the amount would have been considerable.

Luke Lott, said by the article to have been an acquaintance of the murdered man, was a fascinating - and deadly - character. 

He lived in northern Calhoun County between the Apalachicola and Chipola Rivers, but owned a large plantation that extended well into Jackson County. He had been successful and highly-regarded before and during the war, although there were also rumors that he had murdered one of his slaves. Lott was the captain of the Calhoun County Home Guard unit and military records indicate that he was a friend of Governor John Milton. 

He was a pro-secession "fire eater" - to use the terminology of the day - and became a bitter enemy of the "Carpetbaggers" (Northerners who moved South) and "Scalawags" (Southern political allies of the Carpetbaggers) who controlled Florida during the Reconstruction era. He was, in fact, later accused of becoming an armed assassin.

...The report is that he went to Lott's deposited his money with him, remained a day or two, and was last seen with Lott, going towards Marianna to buy bacon. Report further says that Thom had deposited some $8,000 and $4,000 with Lott, but the writer is confident that he had not exceeding $400. Some friend should examine into the affair. - Columbus Daily Enquirer, September 19, 1865.

The reports of the time do not mention the exact location where Thom's body was found other than to note it was on the road between Luke Lott's home, in Calhoun County, and Gregory's Mill, in Jackson County.

The beautiful old Gregory House at Torreya State Park was
the home of Jason Gregory, the builder of the mill mentioned
in the accounts of S.D. Thom's murder.

Gregory's Mill had been built in around 1850 by Jason Gregory, a well-known resident of Ocheesee, It stood on the headwaters of Carpenter Sink Creek about 1.5 miles west of State Road 69 and about the same distance north of the Calhoun County line. Gregory is primarily remembered today as the builder of the beautiful old Gregory House that once stood at Ocheesee but now can be toured at Torreya State Park.

Lott lived almost due south of the mill in northern Calhoun County, although he had extensive land holdings throughout the area.

Civil law had broken down in the region by the end of the War Between the States, largely due to the capture or killing of so many local authorities during the Battle of Marianna. The U.S. military responded to the reports of the murder and an investigation of sorts followed:

We learn that Mr. LUKE LOTT, a citizen of Calhoun county, well known here, is under arrest in this city charged with the murder of Mr. THOM, of Columbus, Ga. Since his arrest a negro has been taken into custody for the same offence under suspicious circumstances. The case will be tried before a Military Commission. Mr. D.P. Holland is council for the accused. The case of Mr. Lott, we understand, is one of mere suspicion only. - Tallahassee Semi-Weekly Floridian, October 25, 1865.

Jackson County as it appeared in 1888 (more or less!). The murder took
place south of Grand Ridge on the Calhoun County line.

D.P. Holland, who served as Lott's attorney during his trial before the military tribunal in Tallahassee, had been a lieutenant colonel and later a colonel in the Confederate service. His legal expertise proved worthwhile and Lott was acquitted of the charges against him. 

The fate of the African American man also charged with the crime is unknown. It is interesting to speculate whether he might have been the same man who accompanied S.D. Thom on his trip down the Chattahoochee River from Columbus, but this is not known with certainty.

The value of the stolen money is difficult to assess because so many different amounts were given by writers at the time. Gold was worth $30 per ounce in 1865 so a rough estimate, based on the range of values given for Thom's bag of coins, would be $16,738.05 to $503,400 at today's gold price of $1,258.50 per ounce.

This estimate is based strictly on the value of the gold itself and does not consider the value of 19th century gold coins to collectors! A single $20 Double Eagle gold piece from 1865 in excellent condition can be worth thousands of dollars today.

In other words, S.D. Thom's lost bag of gold could be worth millions. 

The money was not recovered at the time of his murder and may still be out there today, buried somewhere near the line that divides Jackson and Calhoun Counties.

Ghost of Jericho Pond: Old U.S. Road legend a memory of Reconstruction

The Old U.S. Road where it passes over Jericho Pond
north of Marianna in Jackson County, Florida.

Jericho Pond is more swamp than pond. Crossed by the Old U.S. Road north of Marianna, the pond is thick with trees, snakes and mosquitoes.

It is also the center of a bizarre ghost story that has its roots in the turbulent days of the Reconstruction era.

I was reminded of the story a few years ago by a retired Jackson County resident who said that it was one of three ghost tales that he vividly remembered from his childhood. The other two were the Ghost of Bellamy Bridge and the haunting of Holyneck Road.

The legend holds that Jericho Pond is haunted by the ghost of a freedman (i.e. freed slave) who was murdered there during the years following the War Between the States (or Civil War).

Jericho Pond

The section of the Old U.S. Road that crosses the pond was once narrow and closed in by closed in by cypress and other swamp trees. It was dark even during the day but at night the darkness became almost impenetrable.

Travelers would avoid following that section of the road at night, especially in the days before automobiles, because of the ghost. Residents of the area claimed that the spirit would waylay wagons or buggies at Jericho Pond, unhitch the horses or mules pulling them and then try to make its escape by riding them away. Drivers would be left stuck in the swamp with their vehicles.

The road passed by an old church not far away, however, and the ghost could not set foot on holy ground. People who walked out of the swamp after having their horses or mules taken would find them grazing peacefully in the moonlight of the churchyard, left there by the ghost as it returned to pond.

Each escape attempt ended in the same way with the ghost left trapped in its perpetual haunt.

The tale of the Ghost of Jericho Pond began to fade with the arrival of automobiles and the eventual widening and paving of the road. I remember from my own childhood, however, stories of a ghost that would try to stop cars on Old U.S. Road.

The dark swamp of Jericho Pond.

The story grew from a true event that happened in 1867. The war had ended two years before and Jackson County was occupied by U.S. troops and under the control of agents of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands. Generally called the Freedmen's Bureau, this federal agency had been established to ease the transition of the South from a time when most African-Americans were slaves to a new era in which both white and black men were free and could vote.

The new reality did not extend the right to vote to women and Native Americans and more decades would need to pass before they too gained suffrage.

Florida in 1867 was a place of simmering emotions. Rumblings in the U.S. Congress made it clear that Abraham Lincoln's dream of a peace "with malice toward none, with charity for all" was not the goal of many political leaders. Calls for the punishment of the South were rising in Washington, D.C., as politicians - many of whom had stayed as far away from battle as possible - demanded that Constitutional protections be suspended in the former Confederate states.

Another view of Jericho Pond, where Gilbert Walker was
killed by Hugh Parker in 1867. Walker's ghost supposedly
haunts the swampy pond.

The tidal wave of blood that had engulfed North and South alike during the dreadful war were not enough for the demagogues of that day.

In this time of growing tension, an incident took place at Jericho Pond that characterized life in 1867.

Two wagons approached the pond from opposite directions on the Old U.S. Road. One was driven by Gilbert Walker, a freedman, and the other by a white farmer named Bell. The passage of the road through the swamp was narrow and it was impossible for two wagons to pass by each other.

Each man pulled his wagon as far to the side as possible but there was still not enough room for them to pass. Seeing this, Walker got down from his wagon and pulled back the limbs that extended from roadside bushes to help Bell get past. It was at this point that a third man, named Hugh Parker, arrived on the scene.

Parker lived in Texas and was making his way home through the Deep South. He ran up to Walker and demanded to know why he had not gotten his wagon out of the road so the other man could pass. The freedman explained hat he had done so as well as he could and was holding back the brush so that Bell could get by.

This did not placate Parker, who warned that he would kill Walker if he ever again failed to give way for a white man to pass. Before either Walker or Bell could attempt to explain further, Parker suddenly pulled a pistol and said, "I might as well do it now."

T. Thomas Fortune, who recalled the search
for Walker's killer, was born into slavery in
Jackson County but later became a prominent
writer and newspaper publisher.

He then shot Walker in the chest and left him for dead on the ground. Bell tried to help the unfortunate man but there was nothing that he could do. Gilbert Walker died within fifteen minutes. Bell summoned authorities and attempts were made to locate Parker but he escaped detection and - it was believed - made his way on home to Texas.

The murder shocked Jackson County and alarmed black and white residents alike. T. Thomas Fortune, a prominent African-American newspaper publisher of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, in 1867 was the young son of Jackson County freedman Emanuel Fortune. He published his memories of the search for Parker more than 60 years later:

...The news of the tragedy swept through the county like a prairie fire. Negro men and women from every direction swarmed into the village [i.e. Marianna], fighting mad and determined to be avenged. The village and nearby swamps and forest were thorough searched for the bloody miscreant, all of the afternoon and night, but he eluded capture. It was good for him that he did, as the Negroes were outraged and thoroughly aroused and would have torn him limb from limb if they captured him. - (Philadelphia Tribune, July 28, 1927).

The passage of so much time caused Fortune to mistake the murderer, Hugh Parker, for Sgt. Thomas Barnes, but the alarm caused by the killing was every bit as vivid as he described.

Parker was never apprehended for his role in the crime, which may be why Walker's ghost became associated with Jericho Pond. Perhaps he continues each night an attempt to escape the injustice that befell him there 150 years ago.

Dale Cox
May 12, 2017

147 years ago: The murder of Jackson County Clerk of Court John L. Finlayson

Dr. John L. Finlayson, Clerk of Court for Jackson
County, was murdered on February 26, 1869.
State Archives of Florida/Memory Collection

This week marks the 147th anniversary of the murder of John L. Finlayson, Jackson County's Clerk of Court. State Senator W.J. Purman was wounded in the attack.

The Reconstruction era was at its height in 1869 and Florida was still patrolled by troops of the U.S. Army. Citizens were deprived of their rights under the First and Second Amendments of the Constitution and could even be jailed for such things as carrying a firearm or peacefully assembling.

The people of Jackson County had faced a shocking litany of wrongs in the four years since the war. Rape was legally excused as an "act of war." Kidnapping and false imprisonment were countenanced by Federal officials who then openly defied the local courts after being indicted for their crimes. Teenage girls were dragged before military tribunals.

It has long been assumed that the shootings of John L. Finlayson and W.J. Purman were carried out by assassins attempting to break the power of the Reconstruction government. This is certainly possible but remains unproved. No one was ever arrested for the crime. Purman said at the time that he believed the motive was personal.

The shooting took place on a Friday night:

W.J. Purman, Reconstruction era state senator
from Jackson County, said that the shooting
was not politically motivated.
State Archives of Florida/Memory Collection

SHOCKING MURDER AND ASSASSINATION – Intelligence reached us last night of a shocking assassination and murder which took place at Marianna, Jackson County, on Friday night last, about 8 o’clock. – The victim was Dr. John L. Finlayson, Clerk of the Circuit Court. It seems that Dr. F. and Maj. W.J. Purman were on their way to some place in the village. Maj. P. walking a little behind, and while crossing a vacant lot were fired on by some person behind a tree at a distance of forty yards, one shot striking Dr. Finlayson in the head and penetrating to the brain and another striking Maj. Purman in the neck. Dr. F. survived about two hours, and Maj. Purman was regarded in a critical condition. The perpetrator of this cowardly and shocking murder is unknown, but if there is justice in Florida it is to be hoped that he will not long escape discovery and punishment. (Tallahassee Floridian, March 2, 1869)

Local tradition holds that the fatal shots were fired from behind an ancient tree that still stands in the yard of the historic Davis-West House in Marianna. The home was then rented to Finlayson and Purman.

The two men were an odd pairing. Purman had served in the Union army and had arrived in Jackson County following the war to assist Charles Hamilton in the operation of the local office of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands. Commonly called the Freedman's Bureau, the agency ostensibly worked to help former slaves as they adapted to life as free citizens. 

In Jackson County, however, the bureau was accused of corruption by both local residents and Federal officials. Purman was at the center of many of the allegations.

Confederate Service Record
Card from the file of John
L. Finlayson.

Finlayson, on the other hand, had been born and raised on his parents' farm just west of Marianna. He served in Capt. Richard Smith's Marianna Dragoons (later Company B, 15th Confederate Cavalry) and had returned home from the war to find that Union raiders had looted the farm. His mother, despite her Unionist sympathies, later said that the destruction was done "by the Yankees, at the instigation of the Devil."

His recent history was not enough to deter the young physician from associating himself with Carpetbaggers like Hamilton and Purman. He was described by a newspaper of the time as "one of the leading radicals" of Jackson County. 

...Dr. Finlayson was born in Jackson county, but a liberal education, a generous nature, and a patriotic spirit, made him a Republican. He was, therefore, a “Scalawag.” Senator Purman was born in the North, but had the audacity to settle in Florida. He was therefore, a “Carpet-Bagger.” And who can doubt that if what politicians and writers allow themselves to say of these classes is believed, some will be found bad enough or fanatical enough to endeavor to exterminate them? And who can avoid the fear that others equally fanatical, equally bad, less accustomed to political affairs, should take up the creed of retaliation, and create other innocent victims? (Pensacola Observer, March 19, 1869).

The author of the above commentary was the editor of the pro-Northern Pensacola Observer. He was correct in fearing that "others equally fanatical, equally bad" might try to retaliate. 

Charles Hamilton, onetime Bureau official in Jackson County and now Florida's sole representative in the U.S. House of Representatives, wrote a private letter to friends still in the county to advocate attacks on local whites by former slaves. Purman, to his credit, intervened and stopped such violence before it could be started.

Local citizens gathered in Marianna in the days following the murder to express their general concern. A committee was appointed and the following resolution was unanimously adopted:

The historic Davis-West House from the murder scene. The
fatal shots were traditionally fired from the oak tree on the
left side of the photograph.

WHEREAS, on the night of the 26th of February, 1869, Dr. JOHN L. FINLAYSON was assassinated, and the same act nearly resulted in the assassination of Major W.J. PURMAN, who was badly wounded, and thinking as we do, and as all men of correct views think, that assassination is a most despicable act, which should be discountenanced and frowned down by all honest men, and deeming that it is very meet and proper that our community should express its abhorrence of the act, we do.

Resolve. That the said act of assassination meets our entire detestation and disapproval. We condemn it as we condemn any action of assassination, and we do not think that any portion of our citizens approve said detestable act.

Resolved, That we concur in opinion with Major Purman that the act was not induced by political feeling, but was caused by personal animosity.

Resolved, that it is the duty of civil authorities to be untiring in their efforts to find out and arrest the perpetrators of this atrocious deed.

Resolved, That these resolutions be published in all the newspapers of Florida.

J.L.G. BAKER, President.

C.W. Davis, Secretary. (Tallahassee Floridian, March 9, 1869).

Gov. Harrison Reed of Florida.
State Archives of Florida/Memory Collection

The assassination of Finlayson and shooting of Purman also echoed loudly in the halls of the State Capitol Building in Tallahassee. Governor Harrison Reed announced on March 9 that the state would offer a $2,000 reward for the capture of the person or persons responsible. The amount was a substantial sum in the lean years that followed the War Between the States (or Civil War).

PROCLAMATION!
$2000 REWARD!
Harrison Reed, Governor of the State of Florida, to all to whom these Presents shall Come – Greeting:

WHEREAS, It has been made known to me that a foul and atrocious murder was committed upon the person of John L. Finlayson, in the town of Marianna, and county of Jackson, in this State, on the night of Friday, the twenty-sixth day of February, A.D. 1869; AND, WHEREAS, At the same time and place, the Hon. W.J. Purman was dangerously wounded by the same individual, to me unknown, and by the discharge of the same weapon which killed said Finlayson:

Now, therefore, I, HARRISON REED, Governor as aforesaid, by the power and authority vested in me, do hereby offer a reward of TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS to any person or persons who may apprehend or give such information as may lead to the apprehension and conviction of the party or parties who committed this foul and desperate murder.

And I hereby enjoy upon all good citizens the duty of aiding, by every means in their power, the exertions of the officers of the law to bring the guilty to punishment.

IN TESTIMONY WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Great Seal of the State to be affixed, at Tallahassee, this fourth day of March, A.D. 1869.
HARRISON REED, Governor.
Attest: - JONATHAN C. GIBBS, Secretary of State.
March 9, ’69. (Tallahassee Floridian, March 9, 1869)

Such efforts failed. No one was ever brought to justice for the shootings. The mystery over the motive for the attack still exists today, especially because Purman said a short time later that he did not believe the purpose was politcal:

Mr. W.J. Purman has had, in this and the adjoining counties, many enemies, growing out of his conduct as Bureau agent, but it was generally believed that all active animosity on that account had by the time he was shot subsided. We are informed and believe that he had numerous enemies in this and adjoining counties on account of his connection with the collecting of U.S. dues to discharged United States soldiers, who believed that he had collected and defrauded them out of large amounts of the same. Whether their suspicions and charges are well based we are not to determine and do not ourselves charge, but may numerate as one of the numerous causes that has created to him enemies. This coupled with his declarations soon after his shooting, when in a critical situation, such as the law writers assign to establish the rule of evidence by dying declarations, and which declarations can be established by at least three very honorable, moderate and entire reliable gentlemen, that he did not believe the shooting was the result of “political animosity,” “but was done by personal enemies,” places the fact beyond a doubt that it did not partake of and was not prompted by political feeling. (Tallahassee Weekly Sentinel, April 27, 1869)

Unless some new information is discovered, the murder of Clerk of Court John L. Finlayson will remain one of the tragic mysteries of Jackson County's past.

Dale Cox
February 28, 2017

Jackson County declares war on "fake news"...in 1872!

Jackson County's Courthouse as it appeared not long
after the end of Reconstruction.

"Fake News" is a favorite national obsession these days. Liberals accuse conservative media outlets of spreading untruthful stories while conservatives say the national media is left-wing and slants the news accordingly.

Inaccuracy in reporting is nothing new. The citizens of Jackson County, in fact, declared war on "fake news" all the way back in 1872.

The issue was the county's murder rate.

Republican members of the State Legislature were alarmed by growing resistance in Jackson County to Reconstruction era rule in Florida. They wanted the U.S. Army to march back into the county to enforce prohibitions against such things as public gatherings and private gun ownership. Florida was still under military rule a full seven years after the War Between the States (or Civil War) and many Constitutional rights had been suspended.

They also believed that the presence of the soldiers would suppress Democrat votes while encouraging the county's Republican voters to turn out in larger numbers. Most of the freedmen or freed slaves in Jackson County were then Republicans, but the party was fracturing and bitter division was developing between the factions.

Marianna during the 1870s.

Jackson County had been the scene of several violent outbreaks during Reconstruction, particularly in the fall of 1869. These had been bloody but relatively short in duration. Hostility was growing in 1872 as property owners felt the weight of increasing taxes. The Republicans in Tallahassee had doubled taxes during their seven years of control.

In addition, graft and fraud was widespread in the Jackson County Courthouse. A trio of public officials - all appointed by the state's governor - had devised a plan to enrich themselves by increasing the assessed values of key properties. Assessments were later found to have been fraudulently increased by as much as 400% on targeted properties. When the owners could not afford to pay these taxes, the land was sold on the courthouse steps and usually wound up in the hands of one of the crooked county officials.

Everyday citizens, white and black, were also being hurt by a dramatic increase in fees. John Q. Dickinson, the former Union officer now serving as appointed Clerk of the Circuit Court, had dramatically increased the amount that citizens had to pay for document stamps, marriage licenses, deed filings and for filing lawsuits. This put the legal system beyond the reach of many county residents because they simply did not have the money to pay the fees.

These tactics led to growing resistance and, as mentioned above, a fracturing of the previously solid Republican voting block of freedmen.

Florida Capitol as it appeared in the 1870s.
State Archives of Florida/Memory Collection

Several individuals in the state legislature tried to clamp a lid on the situation by having occupation troops sent back to Marianna. They used wild claims of rampant killings and murders to add weight to their demands.

The campaign of "fake news" reached its peak in 1872 when members of the legislature alleged that 184 people had been assassinated or murdered in political violence in Jackson County in a three year time period.

Carpetbagger-allied newspapers like the Tallahassee Sentinel joined in and Jackson County found itself at the vortex of one of Florida's first recorded media frenzies. Lurid headlines spread across the nation and demands grew for the return of federal troops to the county.

There was just one problem. The claims were not true.

The outraged editor of the Marianna Courier went page by page through the county's records to determine the real truth of the matter. The result was a determination that 74 investigated deaths had occurred in Jackson County over a seven year time period, nearly half the number that state legislators claimed had taken place in just three years.

Lest anyone think that local officials suppressed the real numbers, it should be remembered that the Circuit Judge, Clerk of Courts and Sheriff were then all Republican officials appointed by the governor. If anything, they would have tried to inflate the numbers to support their friends in the legislature.

Of the the 74 deaths mentioned in the county records, the Courier dug deeper and found that many were not murders and that others were the result of police shootings and domestic disputes:

• 14 - Killed by accident.
•   9 - Justifiably killed by law enforcement.
•   8 - Killed in the commission of a criminal act.
• 17 - Killed in brawls or fights.
•   3 - Killed by causes unknown.
• 23 - Murdered (including political assassinations).

Another view of the State Capitol in the 1870s. The building
looked like this when legislators launched their "Fake News"
campaign against the people of Jackson County, Florida.
State Archives of Florida/Memory Collection

The final number for murders was 23. This number did include some political assassinations, but also included a number of murders that had nothing to do with politics. Averaged out over a seven year time period, this came to about 3.3 First Degree Murders per year - including political assassinations.

The total was a bit high, but it is a long way from 3.3 to the 61.3 First Degree Murders per year claimed by the "fake news" reports coming from the state legislature and allied newspapers in 1872.

Put simply, politicians in Tallahassee had accused Jackson County of having a murder rate 18.6 times higher than it really did. The media jumped on board. It was a brutal assault on the reputation of the community and its people and they were quick to fight back:

The people of Jackson County, Florida, of which Marianna is the seat, offer a reward of $50,000 for a substantiation of the charges of Ku-Kluxism made against that county, and a true and correct list of the names of the “one hundred and eight-four “murders, fifteen of the number being “women and children,” which are averred to have been committed in the county. This reward is offered in view of the slanderous report of the legislative committee. - Charleston Daily News, March 21, 1872.

No one ever claimed the reward offered of $50,000 offered by the people of the county for proof that 184 people had been murdered there in 1869-1872. 

The unproved allegations still find their way into books today, fake news from another century that continues to hound a peaceful, rural county to this day.