Histories

Newspaper Date : 11/8/1889 12:00:00 AM
Volume : 13
Number : 32
Page : 2
Column : 3-4
Newspaper : Review
Description : Question of Duncan McArthur's sanity.
Transcription : IS HE CRAZY Duncan McArthur's Murderous Assault Geo. Sousie, His Victim, May Live The announcement last Saturday morning that Duncan McArthur had willfully shot Geo. Sousie at Black River, while far from a common place matter did not excite the surprise that such a terrible crime usually does. McArthur has been considered a dangerous man for a good many years; especially since his incarceration in the county jail and trial for the attempted murder of his wife has it been thought that he was capable of almost any crime. It would not have surprised anyone acquainted with the man to have heard that he had repeated the attempt upon his wife. He is a desperate man and the consciousness of his moral, intellectual and mental downfall has doubtless had not a little to do with goading him on to deeds that would have appalled him a few years ago before continued dissipation and long years of debauchery had stunted every moral faculty. McArthur had returned only a few days ago from Alpena where he had been for several weeks past. He repaired at once to the "bull pen" as the saloon near Black River used to be called when under his control. Saturday morning he and a number of others were standing in the bar room, when without any warning, it is said, he pulled a 38 calibre revolver from his pocket and flourishing it around his head for a moment aimed it point blank at Geo. Sousie, a young man who was standing with his back to McArthur. Without a word he pulled the trigger and the leaden missile plunged into Sousie's back. There was a rush for the door by the other inmates of the bar room and McArthur delivered the contents of two chambers of his revolver at Geo. Proctor and Pete Miller as they made their escape through the doorway, but fortunately they escaped without a scratch. Andrew Rolson, a man about 50 years of age, was not as nimble as his fellows and McArthur leveled his revolver at him. "My God," exclaimed Rolson, "don't shoot me McArthur." "Well" said McArthur, "I guess I won't, you're too poor to kill." Then McArthur left the house, no attempt being made to bring him to a standstill and made his escape into the woods. A dispatch was sent as soon as possible to the sheriff and the chase for McArthur commenced. Nothing was seen of him all day until about supper time he made his appearance to at farm of Mr. D'Kett, whose farm adjoins that of Mrs. Robert Hasty, mother of McArthur's wife. News of McArthur's terrible deed had preceded him of course, and word was at once sent to the Hasty residence that McArthur was there. A mortal fear of the desperate man naturally existed and the family at once took refuge with the neighbors. After supper McArthur repaired to the Hasty house and lighting a lamp he kept lone vigil there all night long. The country was thoroughly aroused and all night long a strong body of armed men surrounded the house resolved that he should not escape before the arrival of the sheriff posse. Sheriff McDonald accompanied by deputy sheriff Flaws arrived on the scene early Saturday evening and when the first rays of morning light had chased the darkness of night away, the advance was made. The door was burst open by Flaws. McArthur was apparently taken by surprise, for he made a demonstration as if to draw a revolver from his hip pocket, but ere he could do this the officers were upon him and in a trice the bracelets were slipped over his wrists. He was at once taken to Harrisville and placed behind the heavy iron grating of the downstairs cell which is the strongest cage in the jail. Meanwhile Sousie, his victim, was conveyed to the home of his parents who live in Black River. An examination of his wound by Dr. McCormick showed that the ball had penetrated the back near the spine finding a lodgment in the region of the heart. The lower lobe of the left lung has been penetrated. It is an ugly and dangerous wound. Dr. Cameron, of Alpena has been in consultation with Dr. McCormick and they are doing all for Sousie that medical science can. George Sousie, the unfortunate victim of this tragedy, is a young man about 28 years of age. He was married about two years ago and has one child He is a man of excellent habits. McArthur, when asked why he committed the unprovoked crime, assigned as a principal cause, that everyone had been giving him too much "lip" they had been mimicking and taunting him until he could not stand it any longer. He was bound to kill someone. It was Sousie's misfortune to have been the victim. Monday morning the REVIEW reporter interviewed McArthur at the county jail. He rose from his seat and thrusting his hand through the heavy iron grating of his cell grasped the proffered hand of the scribe in a mechanical sort of way. He was located in a down stairs cell. In one corner stood a small box stove. The fire in it was not the most cheerful possible for it flickered and sputtered as if uncertain whether it could longer exist in such a uninviting place. The discordant notes of a flute floated down the stairway. The instrument was in the hand of Wm. McIntyre the man who is doing time for petty larceny. The "all aboard" of the morning stage was heard echoing through the narrow vaulted halls. Presently, Patrick Keough was ushered into the narrow corridor in charge of sheriff McDonald. As he passed the grating he and McArthur exchanged greetings and shook hands. Keough passed out on his way to Ionia. This interruption seemed not to disturb McArthur in the least. He manifested no curiosity as to Keough's crime or sentence. The uncertain light that came through the small window high up ion the side of the cell was not calculated to raise the spirits of any man much less the spirits of a man charged with willfully spilling the blood of a fellow being. The prisoner was not much changed in appearance from the time he occupied the same cell a year ago. The marks of dissipation are still prominently traced in every lineament of his countenance. His long unkempt black hair, his drooping mustache and his roving restless eyes, tend to convey the impression that the lamp of reason burns but feebly in his once active brain. "Well McArthur" said the scribe, "I hardly expected to see you back here as soon as this." "No, I didn't expect to be back quite so soon myself." "I suppose you have heard how Sousie is getting along." "Yes, Flaws was telling me that he was pretty badly off." "Did you intend to kill Sousie when you shot him?" "I shot to kill or not just as it happened. I intended to hit him." "Would you do it again if you were placed in the same situation." "Yes, I would." "What motive did you have for this deed?" In answer to this and other questions intended to elicit from him, if possible some reason for the shooting, the prisoner said in a rambling manner that he had been a victim of persecution for a long time. He entertains the idea the everyone is talking against him and that there exists a conspiracy to persecute and annoy him. He thinks he was abused while he was confined the jail here last winter. He said he had always liked his victim, but he had only got his just deserts. He thinks that he was fully justified in the commission of the crime, and that when his case comes to trial he will be fully vindicated on account of the imaginary persecution to which he has been subjected. "What reason had you for going directly to the Hasty residence?" "I had some accounts to settle. That was all." "Did you know your wife was there?" "I was told that she was." "It is thought by some that you went there with the intention of doing harm to her. Did you have any accounts to settle with her?" "I might have had," was the reply, but he denied having any intention of molesting or harming his wife. The conversation turning on the question of his present surroundings and quarters, McArthur hastily ran his eyes up and down the bare walls and the black face of the iron cage in which he sleeps and said: "I was in this cell a little while before. I had an awful time with that iron too. It got to running around the cell. It didn't hurt my brain any, but it twisted my skull all out of shape." When McArthur was confined in the jail last winter there were many who maintained that he was not in his right mind. Such utterances as the foregoing and rambling manner in which he frequently talks go far towards confirming such suspicions. He does not seem to realize the enormity of the crime with which he is charged. He treats his confinement with indifference and seems to take it as a matter of course. THE WOUNDED MAN In his reply to a request for information concerning the nature of the wound and the condition of the patient, Dr. F. P. McCormick, of Black River, gave the following professional opinion. Your request at hand, I will gladly comply as far as I can. McArthur was standing 6 or 8 feet back of Sousie when he fired. The ball entered the back about the 9th rib just to the left of the spinal column; it shattered the rib and took a course downward and forward through the lower portion of the left lung and very probably lies to the front of the body just behind the 10th rib, at least as it feels to Sousie. We probed for the ball and followed its course over 8 inches but could not find it. Without a more certain knowledge of its location it would not warrant an operation for the extraction of the ball. Sousie has not had any bad symptoms since the accident; of course, we keep him perfectly quiet and on low diet, the highest temperature has been only 101 degrees and yesterday only 100 degrees. Pain has been very severe; he sleeps fairly well and has a good appetite. The great danger in his case is from blood poisoning or of severe inflammation of the lungs; but if he continues as he has for the last few days I think he will be up in a week; but it will take that long before we can say he is out of danger. Sousie is cheerful and has lots of grit and feels as if he was bound to pull through.