In the early 19th century, as Britain entered its most industrious age, the Highland landscape was about to change—dramatically and permanently. The culprit? An ambitious engineering marvel known as the Caledonian Canal.
Constructed between 1803 and 1822, under the supervision of Scottish civil engineer Thomas Telford, the canal was built to connect the east coast of Scotland at Inverness with the west coast at Corpach near Fort William. By linking a series of natural lochs—including Loch Lochy, Loch Oich, and Loch Ness—with man-made canals and locks, the project was meant to create a safer shipping route that would avoid the treacherous Pentland Firth and Cape Wrath.
A triumph of human ingenuity? Absolutely. But in its wake, centuries of Highland history disappeared beneath the waves—and few stories illustrate this better than the tale of the sunken chapel at Kilfinnan.
The Chapel Beneath Loch Lochy
Before the canal, Loch Lochy was already a substantial and scenic body of water. But as part of the Caledonian Canal system, it needed to be raised by several feet to match the height necessary for boats to pass through the lock systems seamlessly. The side effect? The flooding of shoreline settlements, burial grounds, and historic sites that had stood untouched for generations.
One of the most notable losses was Kilfinnan Chapel, a humble but spiritually significant site on the loch’s edge. Once dedicated to St. Finnan, the leper-saint who helped bring Christianity to the Highlands, this medieval chapel had a storied past. It was burned by the notorious freebooter Allan of the Forays and later rebuilt as part of his penance, standing for centuries as both a place of worship and a symbol of redemption.
Today, that chapel lies beneath the waterline.
Locals say that on clear days, especially when the water is still, you can spot stone remnants of the original walls submerged just offshore—a spectral reminder of what the water took.
Lost Graves, Forgotten Names
It wasn’t just churches that were swallowed. The raising of Loch Lochy and other bodies of water led to the permanent inundation of ancient graveyards, where generations of Highland families had buried their dead. Chiefs of Glengarry, common folk, warriors, and priests all rested in peace—until the canal project disturbed their slumber.
In an era before widespread preservation efforts or archaeological standards, these burials were rarely exhumed or moved. They were simply… covered. The waterline rose, the land disappeared, and with it countless untold stories and genealogies.
In places like Kilfinnan, the only surviving memorials are rough stone enclosures or partially relocated graveyards, far removed from their original sacred context. To pass by them today is to witness history erased not by war or time—but by progress.
Progress at a Price
To be clear, the Caledonian Canal was an impressive feat. Telford’s use of locks, aqueducts, and stone embankments showcased the best of Enlightenment-era engineering. It brought employment to local workers, inspired pride in Scotland’s growing infrastructure, and provided an alternative shipping route that, on paper, was both strategic and economically wise.
But the canal was never as commercially successful as its planners hoped. By the time it opened, steamships had already grown powerful enough to brave the coastal waters it was built to bypass. Moreover, the Highland Clearances—ongoing during this period—had already depopulated many of the communities that the canal might have served.
In a painful irony, the canal functioned more effectively as a conduit for English troops and administrators than as a benefit to Highlanders themselves. It became another layer of control and colonization, cutting through ancestral lands and literally sinking the cultural foundations of clans, chapels, and communities.
The Cost Beneath the Calm
Today, the Caledonian Canal is a quiet, scenic waterway used primarily by tourists and leisure boaters. It winds peacefully through the Great Glen, connecting lochs and mountains in postcard-perfect harmony. But beneath its placid surface lies a buried Highland world—chapels, tombstones, crofts, and traditions lost to the flood of progress.
The story of Kilfinnan Chapel, now hidden beneath the deep waters of Loch Lochy, is emblematic of that loss. It reminds us that history isn’t always torn down by violence. Sometimes, it simply drowns in silence.
As you walk along the canal’s grassy towpaths or drift across the loch by boat, take a moment to reflect. What other histories lie beneath your feet or your keel? What was sacrificed for stone locks and straight lines?
The Caledonian Canal may have connected seas—but in doing so, it disconnected a people from their past.
Adapted From S.L.S. (ca. 1900). Glen Albyne: or Tales of the Central Highlands. London: John Macqueen.
