Roddy Maclean argues for a greater recognition of an ancient arboreal tradition in a Scottish Gaelic context.

Leugh ann an Gàidhlig / Read in Gaelic

Those of who you who have been fortunate enough to have visited Trees for Life’s new, ground-breaking Dundreggan Rewilding Centre in Glenmoriston will have noticed the bold and remarkable sculpture of a tree in the exhibition space. Made from scrap metal, sculptor Helen Denerley’s creation is a representation of a bile (pronounced ‘BEEL-uh’, with the ‘l’ as in English ‘life’), a sacred or venerated tree belonging to Gaelic tradition. In representing both a love and respect for trees in the modern era and an aspect of ancient Gaelic cosmology, the bile is an outstanding icon for an important message promoted at Dundreggan – that nature and culture make perfect bedfellows in a Scottish Highland context.

As a Gaelic consultant to the Rewilding Centre project, I was moved to recommend the realisation of the concept of the bile at Dundreggan after reading Michael Newton’s superb PhD thesis ‘The Tree in Scottish Gaelic Literature and Tradition’ (1998 University of Edinburgh). Newton is an academic, based in the USA, and a much-published expert on the history and heritage of the Gaels. A useful summary of the importance of the bile in a Scottish context is to be found in his acclaimed book ‘Warriors of the Word’ (published by Birlinn).

Newton takes us back to human-tree symbolism as it appears in Irish texts in the early days of Gaeldom, there being five aboriginal sacred trees in Ireland, comprising three species – oak, yew and ash. These three species are among the trees later considered as ‘blessed’ among Scotland’s Gaels, and celebrated as such in literature, such as in the poetry of the 18^th Century female bard Sìleas na Ceapaich. But, regardless of species, the bile is special. It must be old and considered venerable. In form it must be unusually large, covering or sheltering an extensive area. In the case of the yew, it may be multi-stemmed as with the famous Fortingall Yew in Highland Perthshire.

Of course, trees are generally suited in form to act as a metaphor for bipedal humans. The trunk is the human body, the crown reflects outstretched arms and, both rooted in the ground and reaching for the skies above, the tree in many cultures symbolises an axis mundi, a pillar at the centre of the world that connects Heaven and Earth. The bile is the Gaelic equivalent of the axis mundi.

The provision of shelter for people gathered together under their crowns is possibly the most significant feature of Scotland’s bilean (the plural form of the word). In their shape and usage, they are an allegory for the role of ancient kings as protectors of their people and, in a more modern Scottish context, for the clan chiefs of Gaeldom who had the responsibility to protect their people and to promote their wellbeing. In his thesis, Michael Newton quotes many examples from literature: Craobh dhìon’ d’a luchd-muinntir… A sheltering tree to his people… Craobh a dhìdean ar còrach… Tree of protection for our rights… Fo a sgàile bidh fasgadh is blàths… Under its shade is shelter and warmth…

While much of the evidence for the importance of the bile in the Gaelic world comes from Ireland (the modern Manx Gaelic equivalent billey is used today as the standard word for ‘tree’ although its sacred connotations are recognised historically), numerous examples also occur in Scotland. Some were likely adopted into a Christian context and others are associated with protection or the delivery of justice. The Isle of Arran once boasted a tree in the centre of the island where laws and justice were dispensed (the central location may be significant), and the now abandoned village of Leitir Fura in the Sleat peninsula on the Isle of Skye is reputed to have been named for a great oak tree, known as Fura Mhòr, which could shelter up to fifty head of cattle. A tale of the village recounts how the local people were traumatised by the tree’s loss from a carelessly lit fire.

The famous Fortingall Yew in Perthshire, possibly the oldest living tree in Scotland, must surely be a prime example of a bile. It is near the geographical centre of Scotland, it is ancient, venerable and very large in extent, and its status as a bile is supported by local place-names. A short distance away is Cois a’ Bhile, anglicised Coshieville, meaning ‘near the bile’, and another local name, Taigh-neimhidh (anglicised Duneaves), connects the locality to a nemed, an ancient Gaelic word meaning ‘sacred place’.

Given the status of the yew at Fortingall, it is natural for this blogger to consider another venerable tree of the same species on Loch Ness-side to have the qualities of a historic bile. The Fraser Yew, in a remote location on a rugged hillside, was always more difficult of access than its fellow tree in Perthshire and is consequently less well known. But it is enormous and multi-stemmed (and surely very old) and could have provided a location for the gathering of a hundred or more people to consider matters of law or justice (and hidden from the outside world). It was reputedly iconic for the local Fraser (of Foyers) clan, and some local warriors were reputed to have taken sprigs of the tree with them into battle at Culloden in 1746.

While the origins of the bile lie in pre-Christian belief and practice, some special trees were adopted into Christian spiritual practice. It is said that Scotland’s primary Gaelic saint, Calum Cille (St. Columba), would preach to a congregation of up to a thousand people under a yew tree on the island of Bernera, off the coast of Lismore. According to tradition, Columba prophesied that ‘pride and greed of man would hew down that noble tree’, an act that came to pass in the 19^th century. He prophesied divine retribution for the vandalism, and this also came to pass with the death of several people and the serial burning of the house of the landlord who ordered the felling of the bile. A millennium after Columba, it is also claimed that John Knox, the great religious reformer, would sometimes preach under a yew tree; this is today identified with a living tree near Port Glasgow in Renfrewshire.

Perhaps unsurprisingly in a country with a solid bedrock of ‘pagan’ beliefs, in which the divine was seen in nature, Scotland’s ‘sacred’ trees are also sometimes connected with adjacent water, particularly springs and ‘holy’ wells. Examples are, or were, to be found on Isle Maree on Loch Maree (named for Saint Maolrubha of Applecross), at Loch Shiant ‘holy loch’ on Skye and at Monzie in Perthshire. Other place-names around the country, such as Tobar na Bile ‘well of the bile’ (where bile is grammatically feminine, unlike in many other place names), Tobar Bhile na Beinne ‘bile-well of the mountain’ and Tobar Bhile nam Miann ‘well of the bile of the wishes’ attest to the widespread regard our ancestors had for such places. Even today, ‘clootie wells’ are familiar to the populace – places where cloots (cloths) are hung from trees, accompanied by a wish for good health or the cure of an ailment.

In the country of my own people, Applecross in Wester Ross, there is a spring known as An Tobar Naomh ‘the holy well’ from which water runs through a spout where people would at one time often drink as they passed by (until recent years a very old metal ladle was attached to a rock at the mouth of the spout). The feature is known as Sputan a’ Bhile ‘the wee spout of the bile’ and there are folkloric accounts of there being up to four ancient trees growing there. This was close to the site chosen by St Maolrubha for his monastery in 673 AD and it is likely that the churchman chose the site because of its pre-existing sacred status.

And, returning to Dundreggan, just a few miles away in Glen Urquhart there is a record of a place called Lag a’ Bhile ‘the hollow of the bile’ which, although unmarked on modern maps, was near Creag Neimhidh ‘the rocky hill of the nemed’. The latter is anglicised Creag Nay (probably showing local pronunciation of neimhidh) and is located close to Temple Pier on Urquhart Bay. The temple in question was associated of old with the Knights Templar.

Trees mean many things to many people, and they have always been important to the Gaels. The westward movement of Scotland’s Gaelic ‘heartland’ into a landscape with few trees in recent historical times has weakened that relationship and left many people ignorant of it entirely. In choosing to make a representation of a bile as a centrepiece of their Rewilding Centre at Dundreggan, Trees for Life remind us of an ancient spiritual connection between people and trees in Scotland that can inform and inspire today.

This blog was written by Inverness-based writer, broadcaster and storyteller Roddy (Ruairidh) Maclean, whose work highlights the connections between the Gaelic language and Scotland’s environment.

The Dundreggan Rewilding Centre received £714,000 in funding from the Natural and Cultural Heritage Fund, which itself is funded through the European Regional Development Fund (ERDF) with an almost £9 million investment in the Highlands and Islands. The Natural and Cultural Heritage Fund invests in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland to: provide more and better quality opportunities for visitors to enjoy natural and cultural heritage assets; encourage people to visit some of the more remote and rural areas; and create and sustain jobs, businesses and services in local communities. The purpose of the fund is to promote and develop the outstanding natural and cultural heritage of the Highlands and Islands in a way that conserves and protects them.