Badbea Clearance Village

Clinging to the windswept cliffs of the Caithness coast, the ruined village of Badbea is a stark and moving reminder of one of the most turbulent periods in Scottish history — the Highland Clearances. This remote and desolate site, perched above the crashing waves of the North Sea, was once home to families forcibly removed from fertile inland lands to make way for sheep farming. With little choice, they carved out a precarious life on this unforgiving stretch of coastline.
Today, Badbea lies silent, its scattered stone ruins and poignant memorial offering a powerful glimpse into the resilience of those who once lived here. For visitors travelling the North Coast 500 route or those drawn to Scotland’s layered past, Badbea tells a story of displacement, hardship, and survival — a village born not out of opportunity, but necessity.
My wife and I visited these poignant village ruins in early April.

Historical Background
To understand Badbea, we must first understand the broader context of the Highland Clearances, a period of profound upheaval in Scottish history that took place mainly between the late 18th and mid-19th centuries. Following the Jacobite uprisings and subsequent suppression of the clan system, the traditional Highland way of life was systematically dismantled. Landowners, driven by economic motives and changing agricultural practices, began evicting tenants from their homes to make room for large-scale sheep farming, which was seen as far more profitable than subsistence crofting.
These evictions were often sudden and brutal, forcing families from fertile glens and straths into coastal fringes, barren hillsides, or out of the country altogether. Many were left with no means of livelihood, stripped not only of their homes but also their heritage and connection to the land. Some were coerced onto emigrant ships bound for Canada, Australia, or the Americas. Others, like the people who founded Badbea, stayed, trying to rebuild their lives in places where the land was poor and the conditions harsh.
Badbea was one of several clearance villages scattered along the east coast of Caithness and Sutherland — bleak, marginal settlements established not by choice, but by desperation.
Founding of Badbea
Badbea was settled in the late 18th and early 19th centuries by families who had been forcibly cleared from inland estates such as Langwell and Berriedale. These evicted tenants were given no compensation, and in many cases, no alternative but to resettle on the steep and windswept slopes above the North Sea — land that was never intended to support a community.
The site chosen for Badbea was barely suitable for habitation. The terrain was sloped and rocky, the soil poor, and the winds relentless. Yet the people who came here had no other option. They began building modest stone houses, pieced together by hand from whatever materials were available. These dwellings were typically single-room crofts with turf roofs and low walls, built for shelter rather than comfort.
Some of the families who made their home at Badbea had initially lived in more fertile areas and worked as tenant farmers. Once cleared, they had to adapt to an entirely new way of life: salmon fishing, cutting peat, harvesting seaweed (kelping), and growing crops in small, windswept plots. The founding of Badbea was not a hopeful beginning — it was an act of survival in the face of displacement.
Despite the hardship, a small community took root. The residents worked together, shared resources, and clung to their cultural identity in the face of overwhelming change. Their resilience laid the foundations for what would become one of Scotland’s most poignant clearance settlements.
Decline and Abandonment
Badbea was always a fragile settlement, sustained more by necessity than prosperity. As the 19th century progressed, the forces that had once driven people to survive in such inhospitable places began to shift. The kelp industry collapsed in the 1830s, undercut by cheaper imports and changes in manufacturing, removing one of the few sources of income for Badbea’s residents. Without it, many families faced renewed economic hardship.
Opportunities elsewhere began to draw people away. Some left for the growing industrial towns in Scotland’s Lowlands, while others emigrated to Canada, New Zealand, and Australia, seeking better lives and land of their own. The young, in particular, were unlikely to stay in a place with such a bleak future. As the population declined, the village gradually emptied. Homes were abandoned, roofs fell in, and once-tended plots returned to scrub.
By the early 20th century, Badbea was all but deserted. The last resident, Alexander Sutherland, passed away in 1911, marking the end of the community. What remained was a scattering of roofless stone ruins, low walls overtaken by bracken, and memories held by descendants now living far from the Caithness coast.
Badbea’s abandonment was quiet, but it carried a powerful echo of the Highland Clearances. Unlike many villages that vanished without a trace, Badbea was left as a monument to survival against the odds — and to the families who endured despite being driven from their homes.
Our visit to Badbea
It was a windy day in early April when my wife and I pulled into the dedicated car park for Badbea. A gate led us to the path to the village, it's fairly short and only has one steep section towards the end.




We saw the village from the path - now just clusters of ruins, mere outlines of what were once cherished homes to Badbea families. The Badbea monument is the most prominent landmark within the village site and was built by David Sutherland, the son of the last resident of Badbea. He used stone from his father John Sutherland's home. There is a plaque on each side of the monument with details of the village residents.






Gorse bushes were slowly reclaiming the site, but we still found it possible to walk amongst the drystone walls and get a feel of the village layout. The site is precarious, situated on a ledge at the top of a steep hill. It was so steep that it was not possible to see the shore from the village.



A single bleached information board gives information on the clifftop village and an insight into the daily lives of the residents.
While the area is rough and windswept, it does have a certain beauty about it and a definite air of sadness, knowing the hardships the town's former inhabitants had to endure. Evicted from their homes within fertile glens, and pushed to a new home of dangerous cliffs and poor farming land.



Conclusion
If you're interested in Scottish history — especially the darker chapters that are often overlooked or sanitised — Badbea is a powerful place to visit. It stands not only as a relic of the Highland Clearances, but as a symbol of human endurance in the face of injustice and loss. Walking among the ruins, with the sea crashing below and the wind howling over the cliffs, it’s easy to feel the weight of what happened here.
All information was correct at the time of writing, please check things like entry costs and opening times before you arrive.
Claim Your Free 6 Day Travel Itinerary:
Simply enter your email and we'll send it your way!
