Looe Island has been drawn writers throughout the centuries. Most famously Victorian author Wilkie Collins turned his pen on the island in The Rats of Looe Island.

Island owner Evelyn E Atkins also made the bestseller lists with her two books about life on the island We Bought An Island and Tales From Our Cornish Island.

The island’s story is brought right up to date with Island Life: A History of Looe Island, by David Clensy.

In this section of the site you can enjoy excerpts from both of these historic island authors.

The Rats of Looe Island

By Wilkie Collins (From “Rambles Beyond the Railway” - 1851)

About a mile out at sea, to the southward of the town, rises a green triangular shaped eminence, called Looe Island. Here, many years ago, a ship was wrecked. Not only were the sailors saved, but several free passengers of the rat species, who had got on board, nobody knew how, where, or when, were also preserved by their own strenuous exertions, and wisely took up permanent quarters for the future on the terra firma of Looe Island.

In the process of time, and in obedience to the laws of nature, these rats increased and multiplied exceedingly; and. Being confined all round within certain limits by the sea, soon became a palpable and dangerous nuisance. Destruction was threatened to the agricultural produce of all the small places of cultivated land on the island - it seemed doubtful that any man who ventured there by himself, might not share the fate of Bishop Hatto, and be devoured by rats.

Under these pressing circumstances, the people of Looe determined to make one united and vehement effort to extirpate the whole colony of invaders. Ordinary means of destruction had been tried already, and without effect. It was said that rats left for dead on the ground had mysteriously revived faster that they could be picked up and skinned, or flung into the sea.

Rats desperately wounded had got away into their holes, and become convalescent, and increased and multiplied again more productively than ever. The great problem was, not how to kill the rats, but how to annihilate them so effectually as to place the re-appearance even of one of them altogether out of the question. This was the problem, and it was solved in the following manner:-

All the available inhabitants of the town called to join in the great hunt. The rats were caught by every conceivable artifice; and, once taken, were instantly and ferociously smothered in onions; the corpses were then decently laid out on clean dishes, and straightway eaten with vindictive relish by the people of Looe. Never was any invention for destroying rats so complete and so successful as this!

Every man, woman, and child, who could eat, could swear to the extirpation of all the rats they had eaten. The local returns of dead rats were not made the bills of mortality, but by the bills of fare: it was getting rid of a nuisance by the unheard-of process of stomaching a nuisance!

Day after day passed on, and rats disappeared by hundreds, never to return. What could all their cunning and resolution avail the now?

They had resisted before, and could have resisted still, the ordinary force of dogs, ferrets, traps, sticks, stones, and guns, arrayed against them; but when to these engines of assault were added, as auxiliaries, smothering onions, scalding stew-pans, hungry mouths, sharp teeth, good digestions, and the gastric juice, what could they do but give in? Swift and sure was the destruction that now overwhelmed them - everybody who wanted a dinner had a strong personal interest in hunting them down to the very last.

In a short space of time the island was cleared of the usurpers. Cheeses remained entire: ricks rose uninjured. And this is the true story of how the people of Looe got rid of the rats!

We Bought An Island

By Evelyn E. Atkins (Extract from “We Bought An Island” – 1975)

In this extract Evelyn E. Atkins recalls one of the many moments of high drama as they attempt to remove their furniture to the island in the middle of the winter of 1964. All was going relatively well, until the storm arrived…

… The rain lashed at us as we clambered on board. Darkness fell. Wren clad in oilskins and sou-wester had us all lined up, as with grim face he told us exactly what we were to do.

"It is not just a question of saving the boat," he announced, "it is a matter of life and death!" He explained that we could not take off until there was sufficient water to float the Orlando.

Tremendous seas were running in, crashing over us from the west and threatening to capsize us. The next moment they sucked back leaving the Orlando high and dry and, without the support of the sea, she was again in danger of keeling over.

"Do what I tell you, instantly!" he ordered. At that moment a huge sea crashed down on us. "Everyone to the port!" yelled Wren. We hurled ourselves over to the other side of the boat. "To starboard!" roared Wren. And we all scrambled back again.

We could not anticipate which way we had to throw ourselves for in that boiling sea the breakers came in all directions and Wren hung over the side judging to a nicety exactly where and when the next roller would break over us. We were not allowed to move except as ordered, for it would have upset the balance of the boat. We could see huge breakers creaming over the rocks even in the darkness - it was that wild.

Rain poured down our necks in spite of sou-westers and oilskins, but we had much implicit faith in Wren that in the short intervals we sat as though we were in a bus and Zena and I had a long discussion about piles, of all things, inspired by the fact that we were sitting in pools of an icy mixture of rain and sea water. And so we went on hurling ourselves to port or starboard as directed. There was no confusion as to which was which for we knew it was the opposite side to where we happened to be we just pitched ourselves bodily across from one side of the boat to the other and hoped for the best…'

Evelyn E. Atkins, from 'We Bought an Island', p143-4, published by Coronet Books, ISBN 0-340-22688-9.