Aside from humans, the two animals that were deliberately imported to Tearaght were rabbits and goats. All three were probably introduced at the same time. The rabbits were the rare Silver Grey variety and were a great boon, particularly at Christmas in an age where rabbit far superceded fowl as a Christmas and Sundays dish. They appear to have survived for 150 years though latterly there have been concerns for their existence. Puffins find it easy to evict rabbits from a basic burrow, so they only really survive in well-constructed burrows, and even then the gulls and ravens kill many of the young.
A pair of milking goats were introduced onto the island in 1870, the year of the lighthouse's establishment. In Beam 12/1 (roughly 1981), Dr. Gerald A Watson of UCC talked about the goats. He said that from this originally pair, roughly 35 goats had been spawned by 1895. (I'm not great on zoology or, indeed, the reproductive system, but would 'milking goats' not need to be female?)
Photo Joe O'Brien 2024
His point was that, although goats might be a good source of fresh milk and, in dire straits, food, they were not great for the ecosystem. They ate all the grass on the island and had become a terrible nuisance. Up until that year, hay had been imported annually, but from 1895 this practice ceased and there was a massive cull of the goats. At least 20 were transferred to nearby Inis Mhic Aoibhleáin (Charlie Haughey's island) but many more were slaughtered.
(A completely different account was given by a young girl, Annie O'Leary, in a letter to the Weekly Irish Times about a bad storm in 1894 - "It was a terrible destruction. the houses were washed nine feet with sea, also the lighthouse. All the goats out of forty died of starvation, because the grass was swept off with the gale, and 31 kids, all but one little kid, her name was Gin.")
John McCarron, son of lightkeeper Edward, spent four years as a child on Tearaght in the 1880s. Writing sixty years later, he remembers the 30 or so goats, which provided milk for most of the year, being supplemented with condensed milk.
Whatever about the demise of the goats, it appears that the herd was regularly culled to keep the numbers to around twelve. Sometimes a retiring keeper might be given a gift of one. Rounding the goats up for milking was a hazardous occupation - keeper Denis Carroll plunged to his death in 1913 engaged on this task.
Photo Joe O'Brien 2024
1951 was the watershed year for the goats. Three things happened: -
- A fridge arrived on the island
- Two non-climbing keepers were transferred there and
- Tinned and dried milk became available. (One wonders how they packaged the condensed milk in the 1880s)
As a result, little interest was taken in the goats and, by 1956, when Eugene Gillen returned to the island, he could not believe the destruction done there. With the grass eaten, the soil was no longer anchored to the rock and had been blown to the four winds. Again, a cull had to be undertaken.
There were 12 goats on the island in 1974 and the same when Dr Watson arrived to study the microculture of the island. He said he saw a group of goats working in tandem with their hooves to dig up half an acre of ground to get at the roots of the white sea campion. The resulting loss of soil and the calcium therein was extremely detrimental to the eco-culture of the island, he said. The goats in the winter probably survived, like the reindeer of the frozen tundra, on lichen.
In Blasket Spirit (2009), Anita Fennelly stated that 'the keeper's nanny goat, who used to chase Paud O'Connor every time he returned to the island, is dead.' Whether she knew that for a fact or was only surmising, I have no idea.
The humans are gone. The rabbits may survive. Are the goats still there? I doubt it. But maybe someone can set the record straight.
1906 Commissioners' inspection (NLI)