Roots of Time: Scotland’s Ancient Fortingall Yew
The Fortingall Yew is no ordinary tree. Standing in a quiet churchyard in the village of Fortingall, Perthshire, this ancient yew tree is thought to be one of the oldest living things in Europe and quite possibly the oldest tree in the UK. Estimated to be anywhere from 3,000 to 5,000 years old, this remarkable tree has lived through the Bronze Age, the Roman Empire, and even the rise and fall of medieval Scotland. And there it stands, growing modestly while the rest of us rush around trying to find our keys.
Yew trees are known for their longevity, and Fortingall’s yew has longevity in spades. Scientists have a hard time precisely dating yews because their inner wood rots away as they age. Instead of giving up on life like most of us might, the tree keeps growing outward. This results in a hollow trunk and the lovely puzzle of figuring out just how long it has been around. It’s a bit like trying to calculate your great-great-great-grandparent's age without having any birth certificates.
The Fortingall Yew has not just seen history; it has hosted it. Legends swirl around the tree, with one claiming that Pontius Pilate, the man who sentenced Jesus, played here as a child while his father served as a Roman diplomat in Scotland. Now, the evidence supporting this story is as thin as the trunk's middle, but it’s certainly a tale that adds to the tree’s mystique. Whether it’s true or not, imagining a young Roman boy running around in the shade of Fortingall’s branches is a reminder of just how far back this tree’s life extends.
In the Victorian era, yews were highly regarded for their durability and longevity, but they were not immune to occasional interference. People actually hacked away pieces of the Fortingall Yew to bring home as souvenirs, as if it were the Scottish version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. As you might imagine, chopping bits off a 4,000-year-old tree is not great for its health, and the poor yew suffered for it. Today, a stone wall and gentle reminders from locals keep over-enthusiastic visitors at bay, allowing the yew to grow in relative peace.
The Fortingall Yew also has an unusual “split personality” of sorts. Over the centuries, the tree has split into two distinct trunks, with a gap in between them. What was once a unified, wide trunk has, due to age and decay, become a bit of a V-shape, which gives it an added air of mystery and wonder. Some scientists think it may eventually be considered two trees, but it still shares a single root system like a very ancient conjoined twin.
Yews also carry a bit of an ominous reputation. Known for being toxic in every part but the red flesh of their berries, they’ve long been associated with both death and life. Many old British churchyards, including Fortingall’s, feature yew trees. One theory is that the yews symbolised eternity or that they were deliberately planted near burial grounds due to their toxicity; livestock would steer clear, meaning graves would not be disturbed by roaming animals. Yews were also symbols of rebirth and regeneration, which made them ideal for churchyards quiet witnesses to the cycle of life and death.The community of Fortingall seems to have a soft spot for this veteran tree, even holding special events and activities in its honour.
Though ancient, the yew remains alive and well, producing new leaves and branches each year. Researchers are fascinated by its ability to keep regenerating, and you could say it’s a bit of a botanical mystery. The tree continues to grow, defying the normal expectations of ageing.
