Dunbar was standing over him, apparently rifling for the key which Haggart had already secured, Simpson had hold of Morrin’s shoulders, and was beating his back upon the stairs, when Haggart rushed past them, crossed the yard as steadily as he could, took out the key, and opened the door. On getting out he ran round great part of the town; Dunbar overtook him, and at that moment they saw an officer coming directly up to them. They wheeled round and ran, but in a moment Haggart had the mortification of seeing his fellow-adventurer secured. He at first thought of rushing in to rescue him, but the crowd was too great to allow him to make the attempt; so he consulted only his own safety, and ran nearly ten miles in less than an hour. He then got on the high road to Annan, when he saw a post-chaise at full gallop almost within twenty yards of him; upon this he threw off his coat, and leaped a hedge into a field where some persons were employed in digging potatoes. They all joined the officers who had got out of the chaise in pursuit of him; but he fled across the field with amazing speed, and made for Cumlangan wood. The pursuers followed him into the wood, but he kept concealed close to the edge, and although they were very near him, he thus eluded their pursuit.
He then made for Annan, and reached that place before the alarm had spread so far; but while lying concealed in a haystack, where he slept during the night, he learned from a woman, who was conversing with a boy, that Morrin was dead. He proceeded on his flight, as soon as he conceived that a good opportunity was afforded, and disguised in some clothes, which he took from a scarecrow, he at length succeeded in reaching Newcastle, where he considered himself safe. Having there seen, and narrowly escaped being apprehended by a police-officer, who he knew was acquainted with his person, he again set out on his way from detection and reached Edinburgh in safety. Here he continued during a considerable period, and never ventured out unless in disguise; but having at length attracted the attention of a constable, who he was persuaded recognised him, he determined to quit so dangerous a vicinity; and, having gone round by the north and west of Scotland, to go to Ireland. The attraction of Edinburgh was too strong for him, however, and he once again entered that city before paying his proposed visit to the sister Kingdom; but he was again scared away, by his seeing bills posted up offering a large reward for his apprehension. At Dunkeld, Dundee, Kenmore, and Cupar-Fife, which he visited in succession, he was successful in obtaining considerable booties, and he at length prosecuted his intended journey to Ireland; but having landed at Belfast, he was there seized on suspicion of being the escaped murderer from Dumfries, upon the information of one Robert Platt, who had been in that jail at the same time with him. Assuming a rich brogue, and asserting that he was a native of Armagh, he somewhat puzzled the magistrates, but notwithstanding his deceit, they were little disposed to part with him so easily. He was therefore committed to the custody of two yeomen, but having plied them plentifully with drink, he watched his opportunity, and giving them the slip, he jumped out at the window and once again obtained his liberty. Dublin was his next point, and there he fell in with a pickpocket, named O’Brien, and they agreed to go in company. On the quay of Dublin they saw some persons looking at a number of horses just arrived in a vessel from England; and amongst others, a man whose dress and appearance bespoke poverty and meanness. Haggart was not a little surprised to hear him offer eighteen guineas for a horse, and immediately began speculating on what part of his person this sum might be deposited. After some experiment, he found it in a greasy coat pocket, which hung behind unprotected, the frail duffle of his coat having given way to the rough hand of time, and having made prize of the purse, it proved to contain ninety-five guineas in gold, beside bank-notes. A few days afterwards, they took fifty-four pounds at the theatre door; after which they changed their dress, and, in company with two girls, hired a jaunting car, and a boy to drive them, and took a tour through the counties of Fermanagh, Cavan, and Derry. They were a month on their excursion, and spent upwards of 190l. On their return, being much reduced, Haggart started for King’s county on foot, leaving his clothes in Dublin.
At Mullinger market he picked a farmer’s pocket, and would have been apprehended, but for the connivance of a constable. At Tullamore fair he picked the pocket of a pig-drover, who afterwards accused him of the fact, but Haggart having concealed the property very securely, took a high ground, and insisted on his going before a magistrate for the accusation and assault. The poor drover was outwitted, and, alarmed lest he should get into further trouble, he apologised and was permitted to go.
It was Haggart’s fate to commit only one more robbery, which was at a fair near Downpatrick, for which he was instantly apprehended and committed to the county jail to await his trial at the next assizes. The society and practices of this place it appears were horrible beyond description. Having received their supply of provisions for three days, the male prisoners blocked out the jailors, by digging up the stones of the floor, and placing them against the door, and then they broke their way to the wretched women in confinement, with whom they remained two days, giving way to every kind of wickedness. After spending this time in the most riotous manner, they were secured. Haggart was locked up closely in his cell, and kept in confinement till the day of trial. On the 29th March he was arraigned, and after a trial, in which it is evident that he was mistaken by the learned judge for some other person, and in which the judge himself offered to give evidence, that he had been before convicted before him; he was found guilty and sentenced to seven years’ transportation. On his being carried back to the jail, he was recognised to be the man who had escaped from Belfast, and removed to Kilmainham jail, and there loaded with fetters. He soon thought of making his escape by digging through the back wall, with the assistance of several others, having first secured the entrance of their apartment; but some of the prisoners gave information, and Haggart being the first man who made his appearance through the hole, he got a severe blow; the others rushed after him, but having still a high wall to get over, they were all secured by a party of soldiers, and locked up in their cells. He was subsequently guilty of some other misconduct in being insolent, and otherwise infringing upon the rules of the prison, in consequence of which he was handcuffed, and confined with a horrible iron instrument fitted on his head, from the front bar of which an iron tongue entered his mouth and prevented his speaking. This, which was certainly an arbitrary and cruel exercise of power, excited only opposition, and the moment it was removed, the prisoner took his seat on the window of his cell, and remained there during the rest of the day, singing the most profane songs he could think of. Even the fear of the iron helmet of Kilmainham could not keep him quiet.
But something awaited him far worse, and which, had he known, would have made his heart tremble, hard and wicked as it was. Next morning the prisoners, consisting of some hundreds, were taken down into a yard, and ranked in companies of twenty each. In a few minutes, John Richardson, the police officer from Scotland, made his appearance, accompanied by the two jailors and turnkey; a terrific sight to Haggart! He passed through all the ranks, and the second time stopped, and taking Haggart’s hand, said, “Do you know me, David?” He again attempted to escape by the assumption of the Irish brogue, but it was of no avail. He was too well known, and being taken to the condemned cell, he was there loaded with irons, and subsequently carried off to Scotland. An iron belt was fixed round his waist, with his wrists pinioned to each side of it; a chain passed from the front of the belt, and joined the centre of a chain, each end of which was padlocked round his ancles, and a chain passed from each wrist to each ancle. In this dreadful (but by his own hardened and daring conduct necessary) state of torture and confinement, he was conducted to Dumfries. The officers treated him with the utmost tenderness and humanity, but he obstinately kept up his pretended ignorance for a considerable time.
On their approach towards Dumfries, which was in the dark, there were many thousands of people on the road, many of them with torches in their hands, waiting his arrival; and at the jail it was scarcely possible to get him out of the coach for the multitude, all crowding for a sight of Haggart, the murderer. Some discovered sorrow, and some terror; but whose could equal his own? He plunged through them all, rattling his chains, and making a great show of courage, but he afterwards owned that his heart was shaken at the thought of poor Morrin. As he went up the stairs to the cells, he had to pass the very spot where he struck him; “and oh!” confessed the guilty murderer, “it was like fire to my feet!”
After remaining at Dumfries three weeks, where the greater part of his Irish irons were removed, he was carried to Edinburgh, to be tried for the murder, with which he stood charged. He was immediately found guilty upon satisfactory evidence, and ordered for execution. During the next fortnight he exhibited the utmost indifference for his condition; but at length he was brought to a just sense of the manifold wickednesses of which he had been guilty; and he declared on the morning of his execution that he would not wish to escape, if the prison doors were open, as his death was the only atonement he could make in this world for his violations of the laws of God and man.
Early on the morning of his execution, Haggart joined earnestly in devotional exercise with his ministerial attendant. After the chaplain of the jail had prayed, one of the officers of justice appeared, and requested all strangers to retire, as he had something to communicate to the unhappy prisoner. Haggart immediately exclaimed, in a hurried tone, “Oh! I suppose it is the executioner.” His firmness for a moment abandoned him, and he walked rapidly across the cell with his arms folded, and with deep despair strongly painted on his countenance. He speedily, however, regained his composure; and when the executioner did appear, at once allowed his arms to be bound. He was then removed to a hall in the lower part of the lock-up-house, where he was received by two of the clergymen of Edinburgh and the magistrates. After prayers the procession proceeded to the scaffold. The conduct of the unfortunate youth there was in the highest degree becoming. While the beneficial influence of religion was apparent in his whole demeanour, his natural firmness of character never for a moment forsook him. He kneeled down, and uttered an earnest prayer; and after addressing a few words of deep and anxious exhortation to the great multitude by whom he was surrounded, he met his fate with the same intrepidity which distinguished all the actions of his short, but guilty and eventful life, having just completed his twentieth year. He was executed at Edinburgh, July the 18th, 1821.
Haggart, after his condemnation, wrote the history of his short and wicked life, which was subsequently published for the benefit of his father, who he requested might receive any profit arising from it, for the purpose of educating his younger brothers and sisters. The foregoing particulars are taken from this singular auto-biography, which evinced a strong, though uncultivated mind, which, if it had been directed to laudable pursuits, could not have failed to place the writer in an honorable station in society.