New Zealander In Death Cell

Was The Shot Accidental? 9 . ' ;

Former Wanganui Boy Condemned For Shooting His Ex-Paramour Hori's Many-Colored Career —Loyalty Of Friends Under Shadow Of Gallows

There Is sadness m the spectacle of a young man of 27 years going to the gallows for shooting a woman whom he had won from her husband, only to lose again. .Still' more melancholy does the tragedy appear when a doubt arises as to whether the fatal shot was fired m a spasm of jealousy, or merely accidentally. And the whole sad affair comes nearer home when one knows that this young man, thrown into the condemned cell at Adelaide, is a Wanganui boy with a Flying Corps record, and one of those rare personalities who seeni to be able to win the devoted loyalty of all around them except — the coveted woman!

Born at Wanganui twenty-seven years ago, Hori George Arthur Morse left college at the age of seventeen, and' straight away joined up with the New Zealand Expeditionary FoYce. He rendered service as a lieutenant m the Flying Corps until the time of. the Armistice, when he entered an English University m order to improve his knowledge of engineering. He had every prospect of a most brilliant career; . but Fate decreed otherwise, and, as the indirect result of a holiday spent m Wales and the attachment he formed with a" married woman while there, Morse now occupies the condemned cell m the Adelaide Gaol. It is possible, that even as this paper reaches the reader, the death penalty will be exacted, arid Morse will He m a murderer's grave, thousands. of miles away from his horn% and friends. THOUSANDS THINK HIM NOT GUILTY. "Although Morse was found guilty by a jury* of having, at Adelaide, on February 24 last, murdered Hilda Emily Hunter by . shooting her with a revolver, the story of his life reads more like a novel than a chapter from real life. And, considering all circumstances of the story, it is little wonder

that thousands of South Australians sigi.ed a petition praying for a commutation of the extreme sentence passed upon the dare-devil young New Zealander. The story of Morse's crime really dates from August, 1921, when, m company with a friend, he went to a seaside resort m Wales to spend his holidays. Soon after his arrival there he met on the pier a pretty and fascinating young woman, to whom he obtained an introduction, and with whom he soon, became friendly. According to the statement he made at his trial, the friendship ripened into affection, and for nearly three weeks Morse and the lady, who ' proved to be a Mrs. Hunter, spent most of the time m each other's company. ' Mrs. Hunter told Morse how her hueband ill-treated her and made her life unbearable, the result boing that she and Morse agreed to live as man and wife, both swearfng on tho Bible a solemn oath to be true to each other. After living m England for a while, Mrs. Hunter and Morse left tor Australia, via South Africa. At Capetown a change of boats was made, the woman sailing by one vessel and Morse, who left by another boat ten days later, meeting her m Sydney by arrangement.

LOVE IN A TENT. Morse went Into the backblocks O n a shearing job, Mrs. Hunter accompanying him and living with him m a tent. Later, they lived together m various parts of Sydney and were qulto; happy until an occasion when a quarrel arose because Morse was dissatisfied with the woman's account of a late home-coming. Mrs. Hunter left the home, but a reconciliation was effected, and again Morse questioned her fidelity. She then left, saying she was going to Tasmania, but Morse made inquiries and found that she had sailed by the b.s. Medic for South Africa. Ho took train to Adelaide with the Idea of persuading her to return to him. ' At Adelaide he caught up with the Medic, and, going aboard, found Mrs. Hunter with a group of other passengers. She did not receive him too warmly, but, at his request, accompanied him oh to the wharf, where, at the end of one of the goods sheds. Ho shot her dead with a revolver which ho afterwards turned upon hitns«lf. Morße's account of the shooting was that he always carried his revolver, which, while ho was showing it to Mrs. Hunter, went off accidentally. TURNED REVOLVER ON HIMSELF. Morse maintained that when he saw that the woman was Injured, ho called his taxi-driver to take her to the hospital, and, realising his position, turned the revolver on himself. H e waß In hospital for many weeks as the result of his self-inflicted Injuries. AVltncsßcs at the trial gave evidence as to hearing the report of the revolver shot, and seeing Morse stoop and kiss the fallen woman before calling the taxi and turning the gun on himself. An Adelaide paper just to hand describes Morso In tho following terms;

Tall, slim and boyish, he has a countenance of almost beauty. There is nothing of the accepted criminal . type about his face, and his Handsome features suggest rather the poet or the artist, than the reckless airman, or devil-may-care soldier of fortune that his recrd makes him. He has. a knack , of making and keeping friends, and m Adelaide there are some who are not ashamed to admit their . love for the condemned man. While at the Adelaide Hospital, recovering from a self-inflicted wound, Morse endeared himself to the nursing staff and others with whom he came into contact. It is an indication ofi the personality of the man,- when despite the fact that he was a prisoner charged with the greatest of all crimes, and m the eyes of iz.any already a murderer, h. was accepted as a friend. NOBLE ENGLISHWOMEN CALL ON ••■ ■] - r ' ';■■ ... HIM. ■ .-■■■■■■ . ■ '■.:/

Not only did Morse make friends m the hospital, but, from all , over the world, New Zealand, Sydney, Mel-i bourne, and far away England, he received letters. While m England he had' visited and become well known to two English noblewomen. These women were passing through Adelaide when Morse lay sick m hospital, and they called and gave a word of cheer and comfort; to the unfortunate man". They nave nothing but good to say of Morse at the j Adelaide Hospital. "His was an intelligence above the ordinary," one of those who was thrown into contact with him said. "He loved to 'gabble,' as he. somewhat whimsically termed it, and he took a keen interest m all the passing events of the day. Altogether he .was charming and attractive. His on j great- ambition, before thfe black shadow of tragedy cross 1 his path, was to finish his engineering course; which he began m Eng r land some .years before. During the time he was awaiting trial his frame of mind altered. : "'lf: I get qff,' -he said (and he always believed he would), 'I will take' -up flying again.' "> The Adelaide "Mail" publishes the following graphic pen .^picture of. "the real Hori Morse": There was a touch of romance connected even with his christening.

His grandfather was an English officer who fought with distinction m the Maori 'war. He was opposed to a famous chieftain, Hori < Abrahamus, and at the end of the conflict a firm friendship grew up between these two warriors. With the passing years .it' became stronger, and when the English officer's son grew up, the first grandson was named Horii after the ancient Maori chief. At the age "of seven Hori Morse joined the Wanganui Preparatory School, and six years later commenced his education at Wanganui College. STRUGGLE TO GET TO WAR. His school career came to; an end.i In 1914, when, although not yet 17 years of age,' he left with three other boon companions and offered himself for active service. His comrades afterwards met death m France. Morse was first rejected on account of his youth, but persisted and gained admittance to a flying school at Christchurch. An accident In tlie air nearly brought death, and for ten months he lay on his back m the Christchurch Hospital. Recovery, however, ultimately came, and again he joined up. He left New Zealand, and served with the aerial force until the end of the war, obtaining his wings and the rank of lieutenant. I At the end of the war he began the study of engineering at the London University and fo" two years he stuck to his' self-imposed task. His reason for discontinuing his engineering course is obscure. All- he told his friends was that "Prospects were not too bright." USED REVOLVER IN IRELAND. Trouble m Ireland provided him with an opportunity of adventure, and he joined the Royal Irish Constabulary, which, he insists, was a different unit from the Black-and-Tans. Stationed at Tralee, ho wont through many wild days, and it was here that he was Issued the revolver which was to play such a dramatic part m his later life. Several times he had need to use his revolver, and because it was the means of extricating him from trouble, he came to call tho weapon "His friend." Habits acquired during the wild days of the Irish revolution were not quickly forgotten ( and when Morse came to Australia he brought his revolver with him. Morse's knack of inspiring loyalty among his friends is evidenced by the action of his old school nurse, Sister M. Allcyn, who was matron m charge of the Wanganui College m the years 1910-15. She knew Hori George Arthur Morse as a boy. She loved him. She was m Melbourne when tho tragedy occurred, and as soon as she heard of heiv old school boy's plight, she hurried across to Adelaide to help him. "Hori Morse camo to the Wanganui Preparatory School when he was a little kiddy of seven," Nurse Alleyn said. "Six years later he was admitted to college. I was matron m charge at the time, and it was only when the boys wero sick that I saw much of them, but I know that all ths houso matrons spoke well of Hori Morse. Ho was rather a delicate boy, and although he took a great interest In all sport," and especially . football, he was not an athlete. He was too tall and thin. NOT A SHIELDER BEHIND LIES. "Ho had a habit of getting mixed up m every schoolboy, scrape that was going, and if there was any row on, Hori Morse was sure to bo m it. He was absolutely fearless. They used to call him 'Mad Hori,' and all the boys worshipped him. The soul of honor, I never heard or knew of his doing a dishonorable action. Ho was a gentleman. "All hlB boyish escapades were the notions of a fearless, high-Fpirited boy. I remember on one occasion he slipped away from the cojlege and slopt all night m an open boat on the Wanganul River, Next morning he own- | ed up and took the consequences. Even j m those days ho loved adventure. Fear- | less and, daring to a degree, Hori; Morse, the boy, never hid behind a lie. 1 know 'that m that respect, at least, he has not changed. "At school he showed artistic promise, and 1 have several sketches which ho made and s«ivu to me hero In A»U-l:ildi.\ "Wlii'ti i he war evinio, I, witli others, v.'iis called up. Hori Mur.su, though

only a boy, immediately enlisted. They told him, however, that New Zealand did not want schoolboys. He was not satisfied, and fairly worried the authorities into accepting him. From then our paths lay m different directions, and I did :.ot see or hear of him again until I received the terrible, news m Melbourne. They have sentenced him to death.. It is too horrible, too horrible. CONFIDENT OF HIS OWN RELEASE. "I went to see him at the hospital. I found he had not changed. 'What are you going to do, sister, when you leave me this afternoon?' he said one bright, sunshiny day. * "I am going shopping," I replied. 'I will come and carry -your parcels,' he said, and although he smiled, I do not think that he really realised that he was a prisoner. 1 "'Wait until I am free, sister,' he said another day. 'We .will, take tea together!' 'Oh, Hori,' I replied, 'do you think you will get off?' He wus calmly confident. ' - "The people of South ' Australia have not had an opportunity to visualise Hori Morse as he really is. \ In his cell now they tell me he is gay, almost de" onair. That is Hori Morse. He will not squeal. Often as a bpy. l have heard him say as much, when with others he w'.s carpeted for some boyish lark. It is his way of facing trouble. I am his friend and I know the heartache that lies beneath It all. "I can se^ his twinkly old eyes now," Mox-se's old nurse concluded. "How hopeless everything seehis. I am one woman, but what little I can do for him I am ready to do. To me, Hori Morse is still only a boy — a good boy. I feel that the public of South Australia should know him as I know him! — the real Hori Morse." MORSE'S STORY OF THE j SHOOTING. In his statement at his trial, telling how he pleaded to Mrs. Hunter on the AC laide wharf 1j abandon her trip m t , Medic, Moi-se said: I knelt down on my right knee and begged her to stay. r "Don't make a scene," she said. - . I got up. I was quite close to her then. I put my hand m my pocket as I was getting up. i "What have j'ou there?" she asked. "Show it to me." ( \ "My friend," I said.. (That was how he used to refer to his revolver.) I moved back : a little. I then took my revolver from my right-hand P cket to show it to her. , ' When I take .ny revolver from my pocket it is my practice to draw the hammer back with my thumb to prevent it catching; m ,niy pocket. I suppose I did so on this occasion. Just as I seemed to have the revolver from my pocket it went off. I did not fire it intentionally. My hand was not m a position to take aim. *■ She exclaimed, "OK, digger!" .; I caught her. I could see she was hurt. -■ I decided to get my car to seek medical assistance as soon as possible. ?ut when I; returned to heiv I thought she was dead. •';'.■' I bent over her and kissed her. Ij realised that I had killed the woman I loved. ii I would rather the. bullet had struck me dead than hurt herv- who, to me, was the dearest woman m the world — the one woman who made life worth while. for me, ( the' one I had come here to protect. •"..."-, •;.- I felt I could not, live. I determined to end' my life. ; I' again drew my revolver from ;my- -pocket and fired to slioot myself.' .-..•.' ... I missed.' 1 : I fired again, holding the gun against my body. THE DEATH SENTENCE. Morse added that from the time he fired the second shot at himself he couldn't remember any more, except being taken into the hospital. The next he remembered was that he was m the Adelaide Hospital. v . i ... . "I never intended to fire the revolver, or to shoot or injure Mrs. Hunter," he reiterated.. "It was purely an accident, and I am innocent of any offence against Mrs. Hunter." After addresses by counsel and summing up by the Judge, the jury retired for 40 minutes. , ; Amid a profound silence, the fooeman announced the verdict: "Guilty of murder." His H6nor pronounced the death sentence, and the condemned' man %vas removed to the gaol. His execution was set down for to-day, July 5. [Since the foregoing was written, the cables have told us that the sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life.] „-..:.'