In and around Loch Treig

IN AND AROUND LOCH TREIG,

By Ann MacDonell.

Treig is a mysterious name given by a long vanquished and vanished pre—Celtic race to a West Highland loch and river lying between Corrour and Tulloch, Inverness—shire, and familiar to all users of the West Highland Railway. W.J. Watson, a placename authority, suggests “Treig”may be connected with the Welsh  “tranc”  meaning "end, dissolution, death" which, if taken over into Gaelic would become "trèc , later “treag” ."Treig" would be the Genitive case.

And yet early placenames were so directly descriptive, invented by a remote people to guide each other to the haunts spoken about, that the above abstract definition somehow does not ring true. Ten thousand years ago, an immense glacier filled Loch Treig area and moved out splaying East and West to join the ice mass responsible for forming the world-famous Parallel Roads of Glen Roy, Glen Spean and Glen Gloy. The Treig glacier as it travelled across Upper Glen Spean, left many tons of gigantic boulders in its wake, many of which it had transported from other areas, Marking its route along Loch Treig hills are very well preserved grooves, cuts. striations and polished surfaces.

When the first people settled in the area, the marks of this great movement would be very much more evident than today, and so Loch of the "tracks" or "traces” would be more in keeping with the thought and custom of a primitive people. Etymologists can you connect "tracks”with "Treig”?

Kilgour, writing in 1909, describes Loch Treig in these factual but rather eerie terms, "A little beyond Tulloch, the waters of the Spean and Treig co—mingle and the locality is rich with moraines deposited there by ancient glaciers. Loch Treig which is a dark, somewhat uninviting sheet of water about six miles in length, is reputed to be of considerable depth in parts. The fish frequenting it run to a large size, and in some instances are supplied with a double set of teeth, one of which protrudes from the mouth". Another old writer attests the Loch is famous for its trout; good catches being as heavy as nine pounds, whilst a fair day's basket averaged twenty pounds. Like Loch Ness, Loch Treig also boasts a monster, “ a much feared water horse, whose retreat lies deep down in the murky waters”. It was said to be, ”sleek and perfectly proportioned, the demon steed as he emerged from his aquatic stall, neighed and snorted in a terrifying manner and the hills for miles around re—echoed the uncanny sounds".

Other unnatural sounds like locomotive whistles, steam hissing, and the clatter of carriages have frightened the animal and bird life around the loch. Indeed, at one time no less than four railways flanked the loch and its river. In 1931 there was the Upper Works Railway from Fort William, and below it the Treig /Laggan Railway, On the opposite side of the loch and river was the old West Highland Railway and above it the new diversion for the latter, occasioned by the building of Loch Treig Dam. A tunnel was built, opening just inside the dam wall, through to Loch Laggan, to channel its waters into Loch Treig. This raised the level of the loch considerably, and the West Highland Railway built in 1892 had to be moved from its original bed beside the loch and rebuilt on the present higher level. Some distance up Loch Treig is the entrance to another tunnel, fifteen miles in length, forged through the heart of the Ben Nevis massif to Fort William to carry the Laggan—Treig waters, and supply power for the British Aluminium Factory there. Prior to the building of these tunnels and dam, a tiny islet known as Keppoch's Council Island could be freely viewed at the north end of the loch. It was described in 1876 in a Gaelic article of which the translation reads

"At the north end of Loch Treig where the river rises is called the Deubhadh. (Deubhadh means a dried up place and in old photographs is marked by a sand-bar extending almost completely across the loch here) A bit from the Deubhadh, Treig spreads itself out into a broad dull pool as if it was just taking breath before it starts cascading down to Inverlair. This dull pool is called the Eadar Loch (Between loch). In the middle of the little loch can be seen a small island, a tigh chrann, (log-house) or crannog as some peoile call that type of thing. In this island are the ruins of Tigh nam Fleadh (House of the Feasts) and it is there that the Chief of Keppoch would be holding meetings on anything needing settling between himself and the gentlemen of the district. On the Fersit side are to be seen the ruins of Tigh na Fuine (a bakehouse) and during a drought the path going to the island is to be seen".

This crannog or man made fortified loch dwelling dates to pre—historic times, but Raonull Og (Young Ranald) 11th Chief of

 Keppoch who lived in the 17th century is known to have repaired the structure and built a feasting house to which he and his 

friends could repair to discuss business in private, or to enjoy themselves after their famous expeditions. Their food would 

presumably have been cooked in Tigh na Fuine, and when the site was examined in 1933 , a number of hearth—stones at

 differing levels indicated occupation over a long period. Found there also at the same  time were a 15ft. 9in. oak canoe, a 

(probable) food trough and a leather shoe of a pattern similar to 1st. century Romano British types.These treasures were salvaged and the logs, trough and canoe can be viewed in the West Highland Museum, Fort William. Domhnall mac Fhionnlaigh (Donald, son of Finlay) farnous Keppoch bard and author of Oran na Comhachaig (Song of the Owl) was bard and hunter to Raonull `Og, and consequently a frequent guest at Tigh nam Fleadh. When he grew old and lame and useless, he was not issued an invitation to attend a hunting feast on the island. Domhnall decided to attend as was his wont and made his way there, leaning on his stick and accompanied by his faithful white deer-hound. he arrived late, when the guests were all seated, was ignored, and so decided to make his weary way back hunting to large Fersit. On his way home he heard over in Strone, then a thickly wooded place, the gentle sound of an owl. This is said to have inspired him to compose Oran na Comhachaig (The Owl's Song) one of the most famous Gaelic Songs. Naturally Domhnall's thoughts of his rejection because of his age saddened him. No wonder then that in the poem he addressed the owl, regarded as the oldest and wisest bird, comparing her to himself and 

deducing that if one has lived for a long time in and around the one place, how sad it is to be forgotten. How many people in 

nursing homes and geriatric institutions must feel the same today?

In 1904 an old picture postcard issued by Valentine, clearly depicts the Council Island surmounted by a clump of trees, The postcard was sent to a Miss W. Adams, St. Blane's, Lenzie, from someone with the initials K G.B. it was posted in Fort William. Does any reader recognise these people? In the drought of July/August, 1982, the Eadar Loch dried up completely and the waters of Treig receded behind the Deubhadh. A narrow stream trickled from the closed gate of the Laggan—Treig tunnel and flowed in the old river bed, not north as in pre—dam days, but south into Loch Treig. The Council island was left high and dry, and was easily accessible by foot. Approaching it was like descending into a tiny, barren, sunbaked canyon. Two of the trees which had formerly crowned the top of the island were still there, fallen over this gigantic heap of rubble, and stripped of branches, but still clinging tenaciously to the stones and habitation levels with long intertwining roots. With a gentle breeze ruffling the warm dark waters, fishing conditions seemed ideal, but a variety of lures on several occasions failed to interest the tiniest minnow. When the rains did come, the loch took several weeks to regain its former level. Loch Laggan was rising correspondingly, and its waters came surging out round the edges of the massive gate which blocked the Laggan—Treig tunnel entrance. The trickle became an unfordable river and its waters a churning mass of excited trout waiting for the tunnel gate to be opened so that they could swim through and make for their spawning grounds in the gravelly upper reaches of Loch Laggan. A hand net dipped into this fishy frolic brought up, not dark Loch Treig mini—monsters, but two beautiful trout about a pound each in weight and with characteristic Laggan/Spean speckling. They were Loch Laggan trout which had wandered through the tunnel into Loch Treig and were now returning, behaving with the recklessness and abandon of salmon and sea—trout when they come home from the sea and first taste their native waters. An unsuccessful effort was made during the drought to find Raonull Og’s famous cave at the south west end of Loch Treig. He is reputed to have been an outlaw for most of his chiefship, and to have lived in a cave on Loch Treig-side. The obvious approach from the north end proved to be over the most inconvenient, untraversable and dangerous terrain imaginable. The ancient retreat was cunningly chosen. An approach would need to be made by boat or from the south end. An old Gaelic verse says Raonuill had an axe, an adze, and an auger there and a pot for boiling meat and enough goatskins to last a man a life-time. The cave must have been of considerable size, as it was used by Jessie Stewart the wife of Alasdair MacDonald, 17th Chief of Keppoch, who was killed at the Battle of Culloden, 1746. She had just given birth to her youngest daughter and named her Charlotte, after Bonnie Prince Charlie, when news came that Cumberland's soldiers were on their way to burn down their home, Keppoch House, Roy Bridge. She, her very young children and some servants, made their way through the Lairig Leacach (Stony Pass) and found refuge for some time in this cave. The Chief's wife was still in delicate health and an old servant was trusted to carry a feather bed to the cave for my lady's comfort. Tragic as their circumstances were, a humorous story connected with their plight, perhaps helped to lighten the sorrow of these sad refugees when news was brought to them that their old home had indeed been burnt to the ground. The old servant found his slippery load a great nuisance to carry, and thinking the important part was the outer covering, eventually became so frustrated that he tore a hole in the covering and let all the feathers fly for "What,” said he, is the use of loading myself with a lot of useless feathers". Loch Treig abounds with folk tales and ghost stories. Mention of Raonu11 Og and Domhnall Mac Fhionnlaigh would be incomplete without mentioning contemporary Cailleach Beinne Bhrice, the Hag of Beinn Bhreac ( the speckled mountain). Beinne Bhreac is a mountain beyond the southern end of Loch Treig and was the home of a Grey Witch, who frequented the Lochaber hills. Invariably she was accompanied by a herd of deer over which she exercised an occult control and reputedly guarded them from the hunters. Despite her uncanny powers, she was not completely malevolent and when Domhnall experienced a poor hunting season, her intervention changed his luck. He made a bargain with her, that if she would take away their sense of smell he felt skilful enough to approach them without being seen. After this, Domhnall's hunting prowess revived and his reputation as a deer hunter and marksman became proverbial. His dying wish was that he would be buried in a deerskin shroud in Cille Choirill, further down GlenSpean, not facing east as was customary there, but south towards his beloved hunting grounds around Loch Treig. The atmosphere surrounding Loch Treig and Beinne Bhreac is well andplaintively rendered in a Gaelic song to the wild hag, a few stanzas of which translated convey the spirit of this sinister being, and the natureof the terrain.

"Weird wife of Beinne Bhric, horo horo, 

Aloft in the mist she dwells. Bhric horo, Bhric horo, Bhric horo,

 All alone by the lofty wells.

Weird wife with the long grey locks,

She follows her fleet foot stags, Noisily moving thro' splintered rocks, 

And crashing the grisly crags. 

.

Pipers still play an enchanting pibroch titled "The Old Wife's Croon"inspired by stories about her. Today, the dappled hillsides cast long shadows on the glassy surface of the loch, as billowing clouds from the west sweep menacingly across. Phantom jets on training runs strafe the tarn with supersonic thunder claps. Not far from the dam wall, a slow seething mass betrays the inflow deep down ,of Loch Laggan waters. High among the crags at mist level occasional roar of a stag can be caught. An eagle rises towards the haunches of Ben Nevis. Domhnall Mac Fhiormlaigh stares with unseeing eyes across Glen Spean, keeping eternal watch on Loch Treig hills, Beneath the still surface of the loch, trout patrol the outlines of Council Island and perhaps only they can still hear the muted sounds of feasting in the ruins of Tigh nam Fleadh, the pensive dialogue of the Owl's Song, and the melodic croon of the wild woman who guides the deer noiselessly, high above the loch, or when the loch is in angrier mood, the strident noise of the picks and shovels and groans of the hundreds of men who once slaved on the loch floor. There are many secrets locked away in and around Loch Treig.

 Grateful acknowledgements to Victor Feehan, Australia, and my brother Kenneth Kennedy, without whose valuable assistance and encouragement , this article would never have taken shape.