The Magic of Goats

Our latest blog post draws on the fascinating words of Ned Palmer—author of the Sunday Times bestseller A Cheesemonger’s History of the British Isles (2019) and the John Avery Award–winning A Cheesemonger’s Tour de France (2024). Ned is a close friend of ours and spent a considerable amount of time with some of our producers while researching his most recent book.

His latest Substack post is a delightful exploration of the lore of goat farming and our age-old symbiotic relationship with these animals. You can find more of Ned's writing here.

Goats are mystical creatures. You only have to look into their strange eyes to think ‘here is a creature that knows a thing or two about the Other World.’ The Sumerians of ancient Iraq knew goats to be wise, cunning and clever, saying of them that ‘although it has never gone there, the goat knows the wasteland’. They were also known for their vigorous libidos, which is where I imagine the expression ‘horny’ comes from. Enki, the Sumerian god of productivity, was also in charge of wisdom, craftsmanship and magic - qualities that were symbolised by statues of him with a pronounced goaty aspect. It was known that any evil or bad luck could be transferred to a goat, either by killing it rather gruesomely or - much better - by giving it a bit of a cuddle, performing a brief ritual and then letting it wander off into the wilderness. Hence ‘scapegoating’.

Goats have been associated with evil at times. Some European folk tales describe the Devil turning up at witches’ sabbaths in the guise of a goat, and since then he is often presented with a markedly goaty appearance. But this may well be mere Christian propaganda, an attempt to smear the reputation of the goaty Greek god Pan by giving him a demonic aspect. There are also some accounts of witches riding goats to the sabbath, perhaps when their brooms had broken down.

Goats don’t appear to have been common as witches’ familiars, which I did find surprising given their eldritch reputation. But maybe actual witches and cunning women had too much respect for the animals to enter in to such blatantly transactional relationships with them. Anyway, trying to get a goat to do something it’s not interested in, or to answer a direct question is a fool’s errand. I remember the late Mary Holbrook - ‘Godmother of British Goat’s Cheese’ - laughing when I asked if she controlled her goats’ feed to affect the quality of of their milk. ‘You try and get a goat to eat something it doesn’t want to’, she said, but then also told me how a sick goat will cross a field or two to find a specific plant to self-medicate. Perhaps we could learn a thing or two about plant lore by following the goats around.

It’s certainly true that throughout history our feelings about goats have been ambivalent, as the Provençal legend of the Cabro D’Or, or the Golden Goat tells us. This golden-horned animal is reclusive, but beware the treasure hunter or wandering archaeologist, for the Cabro D’Oro is a jealous guardian of the region’s ancient treasures - Roman, Saracen or Templar. Get too close to a hoard and the Golden Goat will enchant you with a butt of its horns and lead you, stupefied, to the edge of a precipice, where, if you are lucky, you will come to your senses before falling to your death. A paysan lucky enough to find one of its golden hairs should keep it in a bag around their neck to ensure good luck and prosperity, but this blessing is only conferred on the finder, and must be buried with them. Anyone tempted to keep their parent’s golden hair will come to no good.

On the whole, goats seem to be pretty benevolent. Indeed they have been celebrated for their contribution to animal health and welfare - perhaps using their knowledge of plant medicines, or their connection with the spirit world. Or just because they are wise and clever.

During a British outbreak of the cattle disease rinderpest in the 1860s, herds in Wales and Ireland seemed to have been unaffected because, it was thought, they always kept a couple of goats in with their cattle to ward off disease. Even as late as 1973, Farmers Weekly reported that some farmers believed that goats kept foot and mouth away from their cattle. This was attributed to their powerful smell, which was thought to keep disease at bay, which sounds like the discredited miasmatic theory, but it does make me wonder if the goats were sharing a selective immunity with their bovine companions. If anyone else has any theories on that, then please do write in and share them with me.

The good influence of goats on animals is still widely acknowledged, though this is more attributed to their intelligence and wisdom than anything supernatural. All over Europe it is common, wherever there are sheep out on pasture, to see a few goats hanging out too. This is because, there’s no nice way to say this, sheep are pretty thick, and the cannier goats usually manage to keep them out of trouble, and, with their discerning palate, lead them to the best pasture

Goats are well known for their positive effect on mental health - it was common to keep a few in livery stables as they cheered the horses up, and, being level headed animals would lead the horses out in the event of a fire. I can vouch for this. Whenever my wife or I are feeling a bit low we go and visit the goats at the nearby Surrey Docks Farm, who are always pleased to see us. Admittedly we do bring oats and woolly jumpers, but we’ve never gone away un-soothed. If you are lucky enough to live near some, do give this a go next time you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed. If not you could always eat some delicious goats’ cheese. Very good for the mind, the body and the soul.