Long Interview with William Robertson Inverness Courier 01 September, 1891

The following is a transcription of an interview with William Robertson which gives some really detailed information on his life and movements around the Highlands from childhood to adulthood.
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"A LINK WITH CULLODEN"
One of the most interesting personages in Broughty Ferry is Mr William Robertson, the almost nonogenarian poet, with whom a representative of this journal had an interview the other day. He found William in excellent spirits and hale and hearty in his body, - "all but a bad leg that sometimes troubles me " - was the poet's remark as he alluded to the cause of just a perceptible limp. He bears his age admirably, and is a keen, alert, intelligent, gentlemanly old man with whom a "twa-handed crack"is always interesting. The poetic fire still stirs his heart, poetic images still crowd his active brain, and poetic grace still turns his verse. He has the sturdy, hardy bearing of the country-bred Scot of a bygone generation.
"When were you born?" asked our representative, after William had been comfortably seated, and ready to plunge into reminiscences.
"In 1804," was the reply. "In Edwards' book of Scottish poets," he added, it is wrongly given as 1808, but I am now in my 87th year."
"And which is your 'calf ground?'"
"The Carse of Gowrie - in the Parish of Longforgan. My father was gamekeeper at Castle Huntly, and I was born there."
"Did you stay long in the Carse?"
"No, my father removed when I was a mere child to Invergarry, where he became the servant of Colonel Alexander Macdonell, the chief of Glengarry then. During my boyhood I resided just beside the mansion house close by Loch Oich."
"Were there many more people about Invergarry then than now? "
"Well, it's a long time since I left it ; but I should say that there were many more then than now. And they were a frugal, well-behaved people - although I must say it, a little lazy. "
"What did the common people live on chiefly in your young days?"
"A great dish was brochan, used often for breakfast, and there was often herring for dinner; then they had cakes and bannocks, an' they were awful fond o' whiskey. They considered it a panacea for a' diseases."
"Smuggled whisky, I suppose?"
"Ay, there was smuggling in those days," and there was a merry twinkle in William's eye as he added, "if it could be called smuggling as they did so openly. Man, I've seen a procession of 40 horses - a man attending on each- all carrying smuggled whisky, and all going quite openly along the road. Each man carried a stout cudgel over his shoulder, and all were as jovial as they could be."
"Yes, Glengarry was an ideal Highland Chief. He was one of the last of that grand old kind of men. He kept two bards and a piper, and on all festive occasions the bards chanted the praises of the clan, and narrated the brilliant deeds of the Macdonells. A favourite game in those days was shinty. It was played with great clubs, the men being stripped to shirt and kilt. Sometimes the contest would be between the lower and upper end of the glen, or between two adjacent straths; but whoever were the rivals the game was always fiercely contested. The Highland blood always got on fire, and it was really dangerous for anyone who got in the way of a player. Glengarry himself almost always attended these encounters, as chief of his sept, and it was his custom on such occasions to ride home with the bards chanting before him and the piper playing by turns. His door was always open to the poorest of his people, to whom he acted as patriarch."
"Were the people well off for food in those days?"
"Oh! no' so bad. There was no want of fish; plenty of herring and eggs. Eggs were considered very dear at 4d. a dozen. Oh, yes, there was oatmeal too; but mind you, the Highlandman didn't care so very much for oatmeal. If they took it, they preferred it in the form of brochan or brose.They turned up their nose at oatmeal porridge, and I've heard more than one say - 'What sort of dish is that to go to the hill with?' Potatoes mashed was a favourite dish and there was aye plenty of milk,"
"Yes, it was at Glengarry that I met with a hero of the Forty-Five. His name was Owen Macdonell, an active little man, who always went past at the run, and looked as fleet as a five year old. "
"What age would Owen be?"
"Oh, he was said to be a hundred at that time. The Chief made a great deal of him. Owen was at all the feasts of the Castle, and the Chief always spoke proudly of him as the man who had seen the first blood drawn for Prince Charlie at Prestonpans, and was afterwards present at Falkirk and Culloden."
"Was Macdonell the only Culloden man you knew?"
"No; I've known five altogether. There were two other Macdonells - the Black Forester and the Red Forester they were named, from the colour of their hair. The names of the other two I cannot remember. Owen was the oldest, but there were several who lived as long as he did - for James Grant, in his 'British Battles,' mentions one who died as late as 1830, at the age of 108. I was about sixteen at the time I knew Macdonell, and I believe there are few, if any, alive today who can say they ever met a Culloden hero."
"Had you ever had any particular conversation with him about the battle?"
"Nothing in particular."
"I suppose you know that the Macdonalds did not fight that day?"
"Yes; it was a difference about precedence of position, and they marched off the field without engaging. Owen, I suppose, was among them for the Macdonalds and Macdonells are just the same clan."
"Quite so. Have you ever been at Culloden field?"
"No. I've often wished to see it; but (regretfully) that's past hoping noo, I doot. But I've seen Killiecrankie!"
"Ay, but Killiecrankie's no Culloden!"
"No, no. That was a sorrowfu' day for the Stuarts, and sair, sair suffering it entailed upon many a good Highlander."
"No, I have not been able to do any regular work for some years (he said in answer to another question). I was trained to be a gardener, and am what is known as a landscape gardener. I got my training at Lindertise, near Kirriemuir, as the servant of Mr. Gilbert Laing Masson, I have been engaged at Tullymet, Ballechin and lots of other places in Perthshire since then. Man, I must tell you Invergarry was a bonnie place in my young days. You could have seen the yellow daffodils and columbine growing in acres - the columbine, you know, darts off in every variety of colour." - Dundee Evening Telegraph