Skip to main content

The Lost Township of Grulin on Eigg

‘The Stony Place’ as it translates, the archaeological notes on the RCAHMS database for Eigg, state baldly the lost humanity of Grulin as early as an 1880 OS survey map: ‘…eighteen unroofed buildings, six enclosures and a field-system’. Now a scheduled monument and memorialised as a ‘depopulated settlement’, though it is not obvious if the verb is passive or aggressive, Grulin Uachdrach (Grulin Upper) is, like Hallaig on Raasay, a place of violent silence and resonance.

Who lived here and why was the site abandoned? If it were not in Scotland, suspicions might fall to the climate, remoteness and apparent unsustainability of the stony place, a rabble of large rocks under the steep slopes of An Sgurr, but the carefully constructed walls tell us it was once a thriving township – the kilns, folds and blackhouse walls integrated with the giant boulders such as Clach Hosdail. In 1853 the whole of the village of Grulin, both upper and lower, housed fourteen families who were forced to leave, 57 people in all cleared aside from one family held as shepherds. One family was crofted at Cleadale but the rest found emigration to Nova Scotia the only option. In 1841 there had been 103 people but by 1853 Laig farm to the north of the Sgurr had been let by the landowner to a borders sheep farmer called Stephen Stewart, who took on the contract only on condition it included the fine grazing and pasture around the Grulins under the south face of the Sgurr. The subsequent events tell a similar tale to the hundreds of other cleared villages throughout Scotland.


Around the village lie hidden, sheltered runrigs with ingenious irrigation walls and channels. The place is still populated by cheviot sheep who wander oblivious in through the out-doors of the old shielings to graze on lush grass between the sheltered walls. Flag iris grows around the streams and springs harbour water cress, and on a summer day it is not hard to imagine this would have been a place of serenity and pride after the long day’s tilling. But then came the monetisation of the Highlands, the aristocratisation of the old clan system, the demise of a communal agrarian system and the volatile business of kelping and sheep-farming. The rest is a sorry tale of shame, though the modern drive for locality and breaking of the land regimes of the past has led Eigg to be considered a showpiece example of community ownership, having been bought in 1997 from single ownership. The island is now self-sufficient in energy with wind, solar and hydro in several locations and the 100-odd population thrives by itself with a little help from tourism.

Further reading:
Susanna Wade Martins, Eigg - an Island Landscape,PWM Heritage Management, 2004
James Hunter, The Making of the Crofting Community, John Donald, 1976

Popular posts from this blog

Timeline Walks of Scotland #Hallaig to Screapadal on Raasay

'Tha tìm, am fiadh, an coille Hallaig ...' Hallaig - the lost village of Raasay - is a powerful place. Arguably, it has become a shibboleth for the soul of Gaelic culture. To visit it, to just be there momentarily and feel the resonance of the place, is to know the fragility of place and home, of how kinship can be shattered and how loss can invade a land. Aptly, Hallaig is now a site of pilgrimage for those who value the universal lessons of history.  There are t errible reasons for the loss of Hallaig. Its silent mouths of abandoned shielings, the dumb sheep meandering amongst the ruins, whisper with Sorley MacLean's poetry. The place misses the sounds of day-to-day community, and all around the woods and burns and slopes this tough but rich landscape once made this a hardy paradise under the eastern cliffs of Raasay. Facing east to the dawn and overlooking the peninsula of Applecross and the berry-dark depths of the Inner Sound, the walk to Hallaig leads quietly...

Scotland's Iconic Mountains #Broad Law

BROAD LAW The rolling hills east of the modern motorway of the M74 hold much more character and history than they appear from the west, where they are now flanked by forestries of spruce and wind-farms. In medieval times this was a Scottish royal hunting ground – the ‘Ettrick Forest’.  Further east towards the Tweed valley, there are echoes of a deeper Scottish history in the border towns of Hawick, Selkirk, Galashiels, Peebles and Kelso, all on the banks of the historic River Tweed and famous for their medieval forts and abbeys.  Looking west from Broad Law to the monoculture forestry and wind-farms of 21st C Scotland This range of hills, along with the northern flanks of the Cheviot hills, marks the geographical transition to the once-contested border with Northumberland, with its high pass over Carter Bar on the A68. The more useful sense of boundaries are suggested not by the roads but by the watersheds: to the north the waters drain into the River Cly...