His short life (it spanned just over thirty-six years) was itself the stuff of romance and adventure; and he went through it like a swashbuckling cavalier, yielding often to human weaknesses common enough in the environment of his prime years, but always fighting back towards recovery. His death was romantic too, and may reasonably have arrived like the fulfillment of a destiny. Such, at any rate, will be the judgment of those who knew him. Some of his story is as old as that of the prodigal son. Although in the development of his personality he became completely identified with the land of his adoption, nevertheless he was not Australian by birth, but English-offshoot of English (or Anglo-Irish)county family stock. Heredity undoubtedly spoke out of him, but the environment that moulded his character in vital years was the Australian bush.
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2/15/2012 2:30:36 PM. #.# You Are Here:
Poet: Harry Breaker Morant - All poems of Harry Breaker Morant