while past, and it being the first book I ever perused which was
written by a person I had seen and conversed with, the consequence
hath been to me a most sensible pleasure; for in fact it is the
remarks and modern pieces that I have delighted most in, being as it
were personally acquainted with many of the modern pieces formerly.
My mother is actually a living miscellany of old songs. I never
believed that she had half so many until I came to a trial. There
are some (_sic_) in your collection of which she hath not a part, and
I should by this time had a great number written for your amusement,
thinking them all of great antiquity and lost to posterity, had I not
luckily lighted upon a collection of songs in two volumes, published
by I know not who, in which I recognised about half-a-score of my
mother’s best songs, almost word for word. No doubt I was piqued,
but it saved me much trouble, paper, and ink; for I am carefully
avoiding anything which I have seen or heard of being in print,
although I have no doubt that I shall err, being acquainted with
almost no collections of that sort, but I am not afraid that you too
will mistake. I am still at a loss with respect to some: such as the
Battle of Flodden beginning, “From Spey to the Border,” a long
poetical piece on the battle of Bannockburn, I fear modern: The
Battle of the Boyne, Young Bateman’s Ghost, all of which, and others
which I cannot mind, I could mostly recover for a few miles’ travel
were I certain they could be of any use concerning the above; and I
might have mentioned May Cohn and a duel between two friends, Graham
and Bewick, undoubtedly very old. You must give me information in
your answer. I have already scraped together a considerable
quantity—suspend your curiosity, Mr. Scott, you will see them when I
see you, of which I am as impatient as you can be to see the songs
for your life. But as I suppose you have no personal acquaintance in
this parish, it would be presumption in me to expect that you will
visit my cottage, but I will attend you in any part of the Forest if
you will send me word. I am far from supposing that a person of your
discernment,—d—n it, I’ll blot out that, ’tis so like flattery. I
say I don’t think you would despise a shepherd’s “humble cot an’
hamely fare,” as Burns hath it, yet though I would be extremely proud
of a visit, yet hang me if I would know what to do wi’ ye. I am
surprised to find that the songs in your collection differ so widely
from my mother’s. Is Mr. Herd’s MS. genuine? I suspect it. Jamie
Telfer differs in many particulars. Johnny Armstrong of Gilnockie is
another song altogether. I have seen a verse of my mother’s way
called Johny Armstrong’s last good-night cited in the _Spectator_,
and another in _Boswell’s Journal_. It begins, “Is there ne’er a man
in fair Scotland?” Do you know if this is in print, Mr. Scott? In
the Tale of Tomlin the whole of the interlude about the horse and the
hawk is a distinct song altogether. {30a} Clerk Saunders is nearly
the same with my mother’s, until that stanza [xvi.] which ends, “was
in the tower last night wi’ me,” then with another verse or two which
are not in yours, ends Clerk Saunders. All the rest of the song in
your edition is another song altogether, which my mother hath mostly
likewise, and I am persuaded from the change in the stile that she is
right, for it is scarce consistent with the forepart of the ballad.
I have made several additions and variations out, to the printed
songs, for your inspection, but only when they could be inserted
without disjointing the songs as they are at present; to have written
all the variations would scarcely be possible, and I thought would
embarrass you exceedingly. _I have recovered another half verse of
Old Maitlan_, _and have rhymed it thus_—
_Remember Fiery of the Scot_
_Hath cowr’d aneath thy hand_;
For ilka drap o’ Maitlen’s blood
I’ll gie _thee_ rigs o’ land.—
_The two last lines only are original_; _you will easily perceive
that they occur in the very place where we suspected a want_. _I am
surprised to hear that this song is suspected by some to be a modern
forgery_; _this will be best proved by most of the old people
hereabouts having a great part of it by heart_; many, indeed, are not
aware of the manners of this place, it is but lately emerged from
barbarity, and till this present age the poor illiterate people in
these glens knew of no other entertainment in the long winter nights
than in repeating and listening to these feats of their ancestors,
which I believe to be handed down inviolate from father to son, for
many generations, although no doubt, had a copy been taken of them at
the end of every fifty years, there must have been some difference,
which the repeaters would have insensibly fallen into merely by the
change of terms in that period. I believe that it is thus that many
very ancient songs have been modernised, which yet to a connoisseur
will bear visible marks of antiquity. The Maitlen, for instance,
exclusive of its mode of description, is all composed of words, which
would mostly every one spell and pronounce in the very same dialect
that was spoken some centuries ago.
Pardon, my dear Sir, the freedom I have taken in addressing you—it is
my nature; and I could not resist the impulse of writing to you any
longer. Let me hear from you as soon as this comes to your hand, and
tell me when you will be in Ettrick Forest, and suffer me to
subscribe myself, Sir, your most humble and affectionate servant,
JAMES HOGG.
In Scott’s printed text of the ballad, two interpolations, of two lines
each, are acknowledged in notes. They occur in stanzas vii., xlvi., and
are attributed to Hogg. In fact, Hogg sent one of them (vii.) to Laidlaw
in his manuscript. The other he sent to Scott on 30th June 1802.
Colonel Elliot, in the spirit of the Higher Criticism (_chimæra bombinans
in vacuo_), writes, {31a} “Few will doubt that the footnotes” (on these
interpolations) “were inserted with the purpose of leading the public to
think that Hogg made no other interpolations; but I am afraid I must go
further than this and say that, since they were inserted on the editor’s
responsibility, the intention must have been to make it appear as if no
other interpolations by any other hand had been inserted.”
But no other interpolations by another hand _were_ inserted! Some verbal
emendations were made by Scott, but he never put in a stanza or two lines
of his own.
Colonel Elliot provides us with six pages of the Higher Criticism. He
knows how to distinguish between verses by Hogg, and verses by Scott!
{32a} But, save when Scott puts one line, a ballad formula, where Hogg
has another line, Scott makes no interpolations, and the ballad formula
he probably took, with other things of no more importance, from Mrs.
Hogg’s recitation. Oh, Higher Criticism!
I now print the ballad as Hogg sent it to Laidlaw, between August 1801
and March 1802, in all probability.
[Back of Hogg’s MS.: Mr. William Laidlaw, Blackhouse.]
OLD MAITLAND
A VERY ANTIENT SONG
THERE lived a king in southern land
King Edward hecht his name
Unwordily he wore the crown
Till fifty years was gane.
He had a sister’s son o’s ain
Was large o’ blood and bane
And afterwards when he came up,
Young Edward hecht his name.
One day he came before the king,
And kneeld low on his knee
A boon a boon my good uncle,
I crave to ask of thee
“At our lang wars i’ fair Scotland
I lang hae lang’d to be
If fifteen hunder wale wight men
You’ll grant to ride wi’ me.”
“Thou sal hae thae thou sal hae mae
I say it sickerly;
And I mysel an auld grey man
Arrayd your host sal see.”—
King Edward rade King Edward ran—
I wish him dool and pain!
Till he had fifteen hundred men
Assembled on the Tyne.
And twice as many at North Berwick
Was a’ for battle bound
They lighted on the banks of Tweed
And blew their coals sae het
And fired the Merce and Tevidale
All in an evening late
As they far’d up o’er Lammermor
They burn’d baith tower and town
Until they came to a derksome house,
Some call it Leaders Town
Whae hauds this house young Edward crys,
Or whae gae’st ower to me
A grey haired knight set up his head
And cracked right crousely
Of Scotlands King I haud my house
He pays me meat and fee
And I will keep my goud auld house
While my house will keep me
They laid their sowies to the wall
Wi’ mony heavy peal
But he threw ower to them again
Baith piech and tar barille
With springs: wall stanes, and good of ern,
Among them fast he threw
Till mony of the Englishmen
About the wall he slew.
Full fifteen days that braid host lay
Sieging old Maitlen keen
Then they hae left him safe and hale
Within his strength o’ stane
Then fifteen barks, all gaily good,
Met themen on a day,
Which they did lade with as much spoil
As they could bear away.
“England’s our ain by heritage;
And whae can us gainstand,
When we hae conquerd fair Scotland
Wi’ bow, buckler, and brande”—
Then they are on to th’ land o’ france,
Where auld King Edward lay,
Burning each town and castle strong
That ance cam in his way.
Untill he cam unto that town
Which some call Billop-Grace
There were old Maitlen’s sons a’ three
Learning at School alas
The eldest to the others said,
O see ye what I see
If a’ be true yon standard says,
We’re fatherless a’ three
For Scotland’s conquerd up and down
Landsmen we’ll never be:
Now will you go my brethren two,
And try some jeopardy
Then they hae saddled two black horse,
Two black horse and a grey
And they are on to Edwardes host
Before the dawn of day
When they arriv’d before the host
They hover’d on the ley
Will you lend me our King’s standard
To carry a little way
Where was thou bred where was thou born
Wherein in what country—
In the north of England I was born
What needed him to lie.
A knight me got a lady bare
I’m a squire of high renown
I well may bear’t to any king,
That ever yet wore crown.
He ne’er came of an Englishman
Had sic an ee or bree
But thou art likest auld Maitlen
That ever I did see
But sic a gloom inon ae browhead
Grant’s ne’er see again
For many of our men he slew
And many put to pain
When Maitlan heard his father’s name,
An angry man was he
Then lifting up a gilt dager
Hung low down by his kee
He stab’d the knight the standard bore,
He stabb’d him cruelly;
Then caught the standard by the neuk,
And fast away rade he.
Now is’t na time brothers he cry’d
Now, is’t na time to flee
Ay by my soothe they baith reply’d,
We’ll bear you company
The youngest turn’d him in a path
And drew a burnish’d brand
And fifteen o’ the foremost slew
Till back the lave did stand
He spurr’d the grey unto the path
Till baith her sides they bled
Grey! thou maun carry me away
Or my life lies in wed
The captain lookit owr the wa’
Before the break o day
There he beheld the three Scots lads
Pursued alongst the way
Pull up portculzies down draw briggs
My nephews are at hame
And they shall lodge wi’ me to-night,
In spite of all England
Whene’er they came within the gate
They thrust their horse them frae
And took three lang spears in their hands,
Saying, here sal come nae mae
And they shott out and they shott in,
Till it was fairly day
When many of the Englishmen
About the draw brigg lay.
Then they hae yoked carts and wains
To ca’ their dead away
And shot auld dykes aboon the lave
In gutters where they lay
The king in his pavilion door
Was heard aloud to say
Last night three o’ the lads o’ France
My standard stole away
Wi’ a fause tale disguis’d they came
And wi’ a fauser train
And to regain my gaye standard
These men were a’ down slaine
It ill befits the youngest said
A crowned king to lie
But or that I taste meat and drink,
Reproved shall he be.
He went before King Edward straight
And kneel’d low on his knee
I wad hae leave my liege he said,
To speak a word wi’ thee
The king he turn’d him round about
And wistna what to say
Quo’ he, Man, thou’s hae leave to speak
Though thou should speak a day.
You said that three young lads o’ France,
Your standard stole away
Wi’ a fause tale and fauser train,
And mony men did slay
But we are nane the lads o’ France
Nor e’er pretend to be
We are three lads o’ fair Scotland,
Auld Maitlen’s sons a’ three
Nor is there men in a your host,
Dare fight us three to three
Now by my sooth young Edward cry’d,
Weel fitted sall ye be!
Piercy sall with the eldest fight
And Ethert Lunn wi’ thee
William of Lancastar the third
And bring your fourth to me
He clanked Piercy owr the head
A deep wound and a sair
Till the best blood o’ his body
Came rinnen owr his hair.
Now I’ve slain one slay ye the two;
And that’s good company
And if the two should slay ye baith,
Ye’se get na help frae me
But Ethert Lunn a baited bear
Had many battles seen
He set the youngest wonder sair,
Till the eldest he grew keen
I am nae king nor nae sic thing
My word it sanna stand
For Ethert shall a buffet bide,
Come he aneath my brand.
He clanked Ethert owr the head,
A deep wound and a sair
Till a’ the blood of his body
Came rinnen owr his hair
Now I’ve slayne two slay ye the one;
Isna that gude company
And tho’ the one should slay ye both
Ye’se get nae help o’ me.
The twasome they hae slayn the one
They maul’d them cruelly
Then hang them owr the drawbridge,
That a’ the host might see
They rade their horse they ran their horse,
Then hover’d on the ley
We be three lads o’ fair Scotland,
We fain wad fighting see
This boasting when young Edward heard,
To’s uncle thus said he,
I’ll take yon lad I’ll bind yon lad,
And bring him bound to thee
But God forbid King Edward said
That ever thou should try
Three worthy leaders we hae lost,
And you the fourth shall be.
If thou wert hung owr yon drawbrigg
Blythe wad I never be
But wi’ the pole-axe in his hand,
Outower the bridge sprang he
The first stroke that young Edward gae
He struck wi might and main
He clove the Maitlen’s helmet stout,
And near had pierced his brain.
When Matlen saw his ain blood fa,
An angry man was he
He let his weapon frae him fa’
And at his neck did flee
And thrice about he did him swing,
Till on the ground he light
Where he has halden young Edward
Tho’ he was great in might
Now let him up, King Edward cry’d,
And let him come to me
And for the deed that ye hae done
Ye shal hae earldoms three
It’s ne’er be said in France nor Ire
In Scotland when I’m hame
That Edward once was under me,
And yet wan up again
He stabb’d him thro and thro the hear
He maul’d him cruelly
Then hung him ower the drawbridge
Beside the other three
Now take from me that feather bed
Make me a bed o’ strae
I wish I neer had seen this day
To mak my heart fu’ wae
If I were once at London Tower,
Where I was wont to be
I never mair should gang frae hame,
Till borne on a bier-tree
At the end of his copy Hogg writes (probably of stanza vii.)—“You may
insert the two following lines anywhere you think it needs them, or
substitute two better—
And marching south with curst Dunbar
A ready welcome found.”
II
_WHAT IS AULD MAITLAND_?
Is _Auld Maitland_ a sheer forgery by Hogg, or is it in any sense, and if
so, in what sense, antique and traditional? That Hogg made the whole of
it is to me incredible. He had told Laidlaw on 20th July 1801, that he
would make no ballads on traditions without Scott’s permission, written
in Scott’s hand. Moreover, how could he have any traditions about “Auld
Maitland, his noble Sonnis three,” personages of the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries? Scott had read about them in poems of about 1580,
but these poems then lay in crabbed manuscripts. Again, Hogg wrote in
words (“springs, wall-stanes”) of whose meaning he had no idea; he took
it as he heard it in recitation. Finally, the style is not that of Hogg
when he attempts the ballad. Scott observed that “this ballad,
notwithstanding its present appearance, has a claim to very high
antiquity.” The language, except for a few technical terms, is modern,
but what else could it be if handed down orally? The language of
undoubted ballads is often more modern than that which was spoken in my
boyhood in Ettrick Forest. As Sir Walter Scott remarked, a poem of
1570–1580, which he quotes from the Maitland MSS., “would run as
smoothly, and appear as modern, as any verse in the ballad (with a few
exceptions) if divested of its antique spelling.”
We now turn to the historical characters in the ballad.
Sir Richard Maitland of Lauder, or Thirlestane, says Scott, was already
in his lands, and making donations to the Church in 1249. If, in 1296,
forty-seven years later, he held his castle against Edward I., as in the
ballad, he must have been a man of, say, seventy-five. By about 1574 his
descendant, Sir Richard Maitland, was consoled for his family misfortunes
(his famous son, Lethington, having died after the long siege of
Edinburgh Castle, which he and Kirkcaldy of Grange held for Queen Mary),
by a poet who reminded him that his ancestor, in the thirteenth century,
lost all his sons—“peerless pearls”—save one, “Burdallane.” The Sir
Richard of 1575 has also one son left (John, the minister of James VI.).
{41a}
From this evidence, in 1802 in MS. unpublished, and from other Maitland
MSS., we learn that, in the sixteenth century, the Auld Maitland of the
ballad was an eminent character in the legends of that period, and in the
ballads of the people. {41b} His
Nobill sonnis three,
Ar sung in monie far countrie,
_Albeit in rural rhyme_.
Pinkerton published, in 1786, none of the pieces to which Scott refers in
his extracts from the Maitland MSS. How, then, did Hogg, if Hogg forged
the ballad, know of Maitland and his “three noble sons”? Except Colonel
Elliot, to whose explanation we return, I am not aware that any critic
has tried to answer this question.
It seems to me that if the _Ballad of Otterburne_, extant in 1550 in
England, survived in Scottish memory till Herd’s fragment appeared in
1776, a tradition of Maitland, who was popular in the ballads of 1575,
and known to Gawain Douglas seventy years earlier, may also have
persisted. There is no impossibility.
Looking next at Scott’s _Auld Maitland_ the story is that King Edward I.
reigned for fifty years. He had a nephew Edward (an apocryphal person:
such figures are common in ballads), who wished to take part in the
invasion of Scotland. The English are repulsed by old Maitland from his
“darksome house” on the Leader. The English, however, (stanza xv.)
conquer Scotland, and join Edward I. in France. They besiege that town,
Which some call Billop-Grace (xviii.).
Here Maitland’s three sons are learning at school, as Scots often were
educated in France. They see that Edward’s standard quarters the arms of
France, and infer that he has conquered their country. They “will try
some jeopardy.” Persuading the English that they are themselves
Englishmen, they ask leave to carry the royal flag. The eldest is told
that he is singularly like Auld Maitland. In anger he stabs the
standard-bearer, seizes the flag, and, with his brothers, spurs to
Billop-Grace, where the French captain receives them. There is fighting
at the gate. The King says that three disguised lads of France have
stolen his flag. The Maitlands apparently heard of this; the youngest
goes to Edward, and explains that they are Maitland’s sons, and Scots;
they challenge any three Englishmen; a thing in the manner of the period.
The three Scots are victorious. Young Edward then challenges one of the
dauntless three, who slays him. Edward wishes himself home at London
Tower.
Such is the story. It is out of the regular line of ballad narrative,
but it does not follow that, in the sixteenth century, some such tale was
not told “in rural rhyme” about Maitland’s “three noble sons.” That it
is not historically true is nothing, of course, and that it is not in the
Scots of the thirteenth century is nothing.
Colonel Elliot asks, What in the ballad raised suspicion of forgery (in
1802–03)? The historical inaccuracies are common to all historical
ballads. (In an English ballad known to me of 1578, Henry Darnley is
“hanged on a tree”!)
Next, “there are occasional lines, and even stanzas, which jar in style
to such a degree that they must have been written by two separate hands.”
But this, also, is a common feature. In “Professor Child and the
Ballad,” Mr. W. M. Hart gives a list of Professor Child’s notes on the
multiplicity of hands, which he, and every critic, detect in some ballads
with a genuinely antique substratum. {44a}
Colonel Elliot quotes, as in his opinion the best, stanzas viii., ix.,
x., xi., while he thinks xv., xviii. the worst. I give these stanzas—
VIII.
They lighted on the banks o’ Tweed,
And blew their coals sae het,
And fired the Merse and Teviotdale,
All in an evening late.
IX.
As they fared up o’er Lammermoor,
They burned baith up and doun,
Until they came to a darksome house,
Some call it Leader Town.
X.
“Wha hauds this house?” young Edward cried,
“Or wha gi’est ower to me?”
A grey-hair’d knight set up his head,
And crackit right crousely:
XI.
“Of Scotland’s king I haud my house,
He pays me meat and fee;
And I will keep my guid auld house,
While my house will keep me.”
I cannot, I admit, find any fault with these stanzas: cannot see any
reason why they should not be traditional.
Then Colonel Elliot cites, as the worst—
XV.
Then fifteen barks, all gaily good,
Met them upon a day,
Which they did lade with as much spoil
As they could take away.
XVIII.
Until we came unto that town
Which some call Billop-Grace;
There were Auld Maitland’s sons, a’ three,
Learning at school, alas!
Now, if I venture to differ from Colonel Elliot here, I may plead that I
am practised in the art of ballad-faking, and can produce high
testimonials of skill! To me stanzas xv., xviii. seem to differ much
from viii.–xi., but not in such a way as Hogg would have differed, had he
made them. Hogg’s error would have lain, as Scott’s did, in being, as
Scott said of Mrs. Hemans, _too poetical_.
Neither Hogg nor Scott, I think, was crafty enough to imitate the prosaic
drawl of the printed broadside ballad, or the feeble interpolations with
which the “gangrel scrape-gut,” or _bänkelsänger_, supplied gaps in his
memory. The modern complete ballad-faker _would_ introduce such abject
verses, but Scott and Hogg desired to decorate, not to debase, ballads
with which they intermeddled, and we track them by their modern romantic
touch when they interpolate. I take it, for this reason, that Hogg did
not write stanzas xv., xviii. It was hardly in nature for Hogg, if he
knew Ville de Grace in Normandy (a thing not very probable), to invent
“Billop-Grace” as a popular corruption of the name—and a popular
corruption it is, I think. Probably the original maker of this stanza
wrote, in line 4, “alace,” an old spelling—not “alas”—to rhyme with
“grace.”
Colonel Elliot then assigns xv., xviii. as most likely of all to be by
Hogg. On that I have given my opinion, with my reasons.
These verses, with xviii., lead us to France, and whereas Scott here
suspects that some verses have been lost (see his note to stanza xviii.),
Colonel Elliot suspects that the stanzas relating to France have been
interpolated. But the French scenes occupy the whole poem from xvi. to
lxv., the end.
What, if Hogg were the forger, were his sources? He _may_ have known
Douglas’s _Palice of Honour_, which, of course, existed in print, with
its mention of Maitland’s grey beard. But how did he know Maitland’s
“three noble sons,” in 1801–1802, lying unsunned in the Maitland MSS.?
This is a point which critics of _Auld Maitland_ studiously ignore, yet
it is the essential point. How did the Shepherd know about the three
young Maitlands, whose existence, in legend, is only revealed to us
through a manuscript unpublished in 1802? Colonel Elliot does not evade
the point. “We may be sure,” he says, that Leyden, before 1802, knew
Hogg, and Hogg might have obtained from him sufficient information to
enable him to compose the ballad. {47a} But it was from Laidlaw, not
from Leyden, that Scott, after receiving his first copy at Blackhouse, in
spring 1802, obtained Hogg’s address. {47b} There is no hint that before
spring 1802 Leyden ever saw Hogg. Had he known him, and his ballad-lore,
he would have brought him and Scott together. In 1801–02, Leyden was
very busy in Edinburgh helping Scott to edit _Sir Tristram_, copying
_Arthour_, seeking for an East India appointment, and going into society.
Scott’s letters prove all this. {47c}
That Hogg, in 1802, was very capable of writing a ballad, I admit; also
that, through Blind Harry’s _Wallace_, he may have known all about
“sowies,” and “portculize,” and _springwalls_, or _springald’s_, or
_springalls_, mediæval _balistas_ for throwing heavy stones and darts.
But Hogg did not know or guess what a _springwall_ was. In his stanza
xiii. (in the MS. given to Laidlaw), Hogg wrote—
With springs; wall stanes, and good o’ern
Among them fast he threw.
Scott saw the real meaning of this nonsense, and read—
With springalds, stones, and gads o’ airn.
In his preface he says that many words in the ballad, “which the reciters
have retained without understanding them, still preserve traces of their
antiquity.” For instance, _springalls_, corruptedly pronounced
_springwalls_. Hogg, hearing the pronunciation, and not understanding,
wrote, “with springs: wall stanes.” A leader would not throw “wall
stanes” till he had exhausted his ammunition. Hogg heard “with
springwalls stones, he threw,” and wrote it, “with springs: wall stones
he threw.”
Hogg could not know of Auld Maitland “and his three noble sons” except
through an informant familiar with the Maitland MSS. in Edinburgh
University Library. On the theory of a conspiracy to forge, Scott taught
him, but that theory is crushed.
Hogg says, in _Domestic Manners of Sir Walter Scott_, that when his
mother met Scott she told him that her brother and she learned the ballad
from auld Andrew Muir, and he from “auld Babby Mettlin,” housekeeper of
the first (“Anderson”) laird of Tushielaw. This first Anderson, laird of
Tushielaw, reigned from 1688 to 1721 (?) or 1724. {48a} Hogg’s mother
was born in 1730, and was only one remove—filled up by Andrew Muir—from
Babby, who was “ither than a gude yin,” and knew many songs. Does any
one think Hogg crafty enough to have invented Babby Maitland as the
source of a song about the Maitlands, and to have introduced her into his
narrative in 1834? I conjecture that this Maitland woman knew a Maitland
song, modernised in time, and perhaps copied out and emended by one of
the Maitland family, possibly one of the descendants of Lethington. We
know that, under James I., about 1620, Lethington’s impoverished son,
James, had several children; and that Lauderdale was still supporting
them (or _their_ children) during the Restoration. Only a century
before, ballads on the Maitlands had certainly been popular, and there is
nothing impossible in the suggestion that one such ballad survived in the
Lauderdale or Lethington family, and came through Babby Maitland to
Andrew Muir, then to Hogg’s mother, to Hogg, and to Scott.
If a manuscript copy ever existed, and was Babby’s ultimate source, it
would be of the late seventeenth century. That is the ascertained date
of the oldest known MS. of _The Outlaw Murray_, as is proved from an
allusion in a note appended to a copy, referring to a Judge of Session,
Lord Philiphaugh, as then alive. The copy was of 1689–1702. {49a}
Granting a MS. of _Auld Maitland_ existing in any branch of the Maitland
family in 1680–1700, Babby Mettlin’s knowledge of the ballad, and its few
modernisms, are explained.