against him.  But he was somewhat prone to fight, and this was the worst that could be charged upon him.  I am not aware that he was ever accused of crookedness in elections except in his zeal to secure the election of Delos Lake, Whig, as District Judge, in 1851.  When the Vigilance Committee was organized, in 1856, he openly and boldly denounced it, and was an ardent supporter of the Law and Order side.  On what charge he was arrested and banished I have never been able to ascertain.  The manner of his arrest added no laurels to the parties who conspired to effect it and the participants in the arrest.  It bore the tokens of jealousy and spite sprung from his election years before as Chief Engineer, more than of any present cause.  He was entrapped, seized, hauled to the committee cells and banished, nevertheless.

Billy Mulligan was the incarnation of fearlessness, fight and frolic — dangerous frolic it was sometimes to any he did not like.  Of low stature, slight frame, active as a cat, the expression of a bull-terrier, and as, quick to an, encounter, Mulligan was not a man to pick a quarrel with — the other party invariably second best.  He had served under Colonel Jack Hays in his troop of Texan Rangers, and Colonel Hays gave the praise that he was one of the bravest, pluckiest, most daring and desperate fighters he had ever had in his command.  Billy had his full share of the vices of drinking, gambling, fighting and a fast life.  He was active in politics and “went in to win.”  But he had the virtue not to lie; and he would not betray any confidence reposed in him, turn faithless to any promise he made.  He was bold, frank, manly, magnanimous except towards those he despised as well as hated, and to these he was implacable and merciless.  The world’s wealth couldn’t seduce or bribe him from the support of the men he liked, no matter how poor they might be; and he would on every occasion interpose to protect the helpless and defenseless from the violence or maltreatment of others.  Crime of any degree was never alleged to his account.  He had faithfully served as collector of moneys for the County Treasurer two years, and fully accounted for every dollar that he received.  Beyond his fighting bouts and his conduct in elections — about the same as prevails now — there was nothing to warrant his arrest and banishment.  But the terrors of Fort Gunny Bags did not intimidate Mulligan.  One of the committee remarked to me, on the occasion of his death by the rifle shot of a policeman while he was wild with delirium tremens, that he was the only prisoner ever put in the committee cells who did not “weaken.”  He was a character the community could well spare; but he had given the committee no offence to justify his banishment.