Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1871-02-12
Two Rumans.

this type. 30 IN his day was Bill
Poole, whose Obsequies, like those of
a dead Caesar, slain in the hour of vic
tory, were a pageant as grand as that
which wound up the sacred way to
the gates Of Jupiter. So was Billy
Mulligan, who was shot a year or two
ago ia California while raging with
delerium tremens. He had barricaded
himself in his ROOM in a hotel and
fired upon all who approached him,
and upon the by-passers in the streets,
not because he had any purpose Of in
turing them, but because his mind in
| delirium and ruin impelled him to
/ the same deeds of violence in which
/ he had all his life borne a part. He
was a peculiar rutfian, small in stature,
! his nose fiattened in some fray, deeply
pitted with the smallpox, and with
! ewes of a taWny yellow luster, and
! singular CLEAN, like those of
an African leopard. He was rich
| Iy dressed, and unlike most of
/ bis class, with perfect elegance and
| taste. He was reputed to be a man
/ of chivalry and generosity. He only
fought fighters, and never robbed
ANYBODY. His friends aver that he
| never did mean, though he might
not have stopped at a murderOus ac
| ton. He was not professional pugi-
| list. and his methods of conflict were
Of the imprOmptu rough and tum-
BILE" sort. He was quick with the
pistol too, but such was the terror in
| spired by his presence even among
/ the most dangerous of his class that
he Was rarely called upon to use it.
! His story of violence and midnight
brawls would be, If it were written, a
veritable Tale of Two Cities,' for he
was a scOurge and terror of both San
Francisco and New York. From the
former he fed in wholesome dread of
the Vigilance Committee, and there
after years of absence he returned, to
perish at the hands of a boon COM
paaiOn, who haTbOred no iil-teeling
toward him, but shot him as he would
a mad dog, because he was considered
dangerous.
Bill Poole was Of another type-an
inferior one in some respects. He
was singularly handsome, with dark
flashing eyes, a Roman nose, eye
brOws heavy but perfectly arched, and
a complexion like that accredited to
Dick Turpin, with whom the ladies
Of his time were so much in love that
they StOrmed his prison door beseech-
ing locks of his hair as keepsakes.
He was tall, slender, rapid and grace
fui in his movements, and IL was
difficult to identify in him the scOurge
and terror Of the slums; the man be-
| fore whom all adveTsaries quailed,
/ aud whose name was uttered with awe
| by the most DlOOdthirsty desperadOes
Of the city. Poole seemed to fight
| from the mere love of fighting.
| Whenever he saw a head he hit it.
No sooner did he hear of any violent
exploit Of rising Tufian, or uascent
desperadO, than he put on his seven
/ league boots, sought out the aspirant
for fistic hOnOrs, and without waiting
| for a preteXt, chastised him then and
there. Innumerable are the stories
| told of his pIOWess. Hemmed in one
| day by an overwhelming force, he
sprang bodily through an immense
| plate-glass WindOW, escaped with
! out a scar, and having beaten up
| his recruits, fell upon his former be
! leagUers, and smOte them nip and
thigh. Many old New Workers re-
member his historic contest with
| MOrrissey upon one Of the North river
piers. Morrissey had recently come
to New York, having been brought
! hither by his employer, a grOg shop
| keeper Of Troy, who felt good deal
Of confidence in the pugilistic capaci-
ties Of his barkeepeT. At that time
MOrrissey might have sat as a model
for the Farnese Hercules. He was
young; a thick mass Of curling black
hair clustered about his temples, his
brow was low and broad, after the
Roman type, and his chest and limbs
were those of a Colossus. He made
his debut in metropolitan society by
| thrashing with ease a series Of de5per-
ate and Well-knOwn ruffians, and
! Poole saw that his supremacy was
! threated by this daring young lion Of
! the North, who had issued from pro-
vincial Ob5cUrity and within few
weeks risen 10 high pUgilistic distinc-
tiOn. After various attempts to bring
about a satisfactory collision, Poole
challenged the young Trojan to meet
him on a given day upon one OF the
Hudson river piers, and thlther, ac-
cOmpanied by friend or two, drove
MOrrissey at the appointed time, to
find Poole surrounded by at least a
thousand Of his henchmen and follow
ers, yelling like fiends, and thirsty for
the blood of the daring inteTlOper who
had the temerity to beard their cham
piOn upon his own threshold. The
contest was not a long one. 1t could
not be with such odds. MOrrissey was
trampled into insensibility by the
| heels Of as many Of POOle's followers
as could get at him-fOr among these
/ creatures there is never a thought OF
! fair play-and he wears the scars won
on that midsummer afternoon to this
| day. 1t was not long after this that
Poole was shot, at StanWiX Hall, then
a drinking shop opposite the Metro
pOlitan Hotel. His assassin was, we
believe, one Lew Baker, who fed, but
was subsequently recaptured at sea,
brought back and held to trial. Poole
did not die Immediately. He lay, if
we recOllect Alright, nine days, and af-
| ter his decease il was found that the
bullet was embedded in the sub
stance Of his heart. Some rubbish ut-
tered by him as his death drew near, to
the effect that he Died a true Amer
ican," as If be had ever been anything
but a felOn who only needed OppOr-
tunity to become an assassin,
awakened an unusual enthusiasm
among some Of the ruder elements of
the community. 1t was in the old
KnOW-NOthing days, and the feuds
between the native Americans and
the Irish were at their hight. AS aeon
sequence his funeral was a pageant.
No greater thrOng had ever been
seen along the sidewalks, balconies,
and windows Of Broadway than that
which witnessed the passage Of the
| hearsed remains Of as mere a ruffian
and as Wretched a desperate as ever
lived. New York has not yet forgot
ten the shame of that day. 1t was as
II the town turned out en- nldSSe to
witness the Obsequies Of Jim Hag-
gerty, hurting immOrtelles on his
coffin, and mar5haling him to his rest
with acClamatiOns.
The recent collision in which-tO
the great satisfaction Of the cOmmuni-
ty-the latter named rufiau met his
death recalls the rememb brances Of this
dynasty Of desperadOes; the breed of
which it seems has not died out, nor
does it bid fair TO. The most sUrpris-
ing circumstance associated with the
career of these men is the almost CON-
plete immunity which they possess
from interference by the strong hand
Of the law. They seem to have some
magic talisman which protects them
from the legal penalties Of their mis-
deeds. They have Influence" with
judges and politicians; are skilled in
the articles Of straw bail, and to them
the machinery of justice seems to be
entirely stripped Of its terrOrs. We
hope it will not be so always, but see
little present prospect Of a change for
the better. These banditti will prob