“The prisoner, giving this account, did not seem to feel the least concern for the crime, or its consequences, but appeared, on the contrary, very cheerful, saying he had been fated to commit it, and to suffer for it, as he had been told, years before, by an old Spaniard.
“He was a native of Bergen, in Norway, twenty-seven years of age, and had served under Lord Rodney, in H.M.S. Fame, for upwards of two years. He was, however, extremely penitent when brought to the place of execution, acknowleged the justice of his sentence, and prayed with great fervency.”
Deal is all very well in summer, but it is in winter and in spring a desperately cold place. It is as though winter, departing reluctantly with the coming of the vernal equinox, lingered fondly here, loth to go. Thanet is open to the east winds, and every gust that blows out of the North Sea is felt acutely at Westgate and Margate, turning noses and hands red or blue, as the case may be; but at Deal your very vitals seem to be frozen stiff and stark with the natural acerbity of the air and with the cutthroat blasts that come murderously out of the many alleys of this strange old seafaring town.
At Deal one talks most naturally of the Goodwin Sands. Stretching in a line about eleven miles long, from Broadstairs to Deal, parallel with the coast-line, and roughly from four to five miles from the shore, these dreaded shoals extend at their greatest breadth some four miles. The dangers they offer to the crowded shipping of the Channel lie chiefly in their being covered at high water.
The Goodwin Sands are the most famous feature of the Kentish coast, though not the most spectacular. If they were, indeed, visible in proportion to their fame or notoriety, they would be as little dangerous as Shakespeare’s Cliff itself, which is a landmark for mariners, rather than a peril to them. The Goodwins, more dreaded by seafaring men than rocks, find impressive mention in Shakespeare. In The Merchant of Venice they are referred to as “a very dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcases of many a tall ship lie buried.”
The origin of the Goodwin Sands has been from the earliest time a matter of dispute, nor can the question even yet be considered settled. This lack of any definite conclusion is by no means due to want of trying, and the question appears early to have been confused by the inclusion in the inquiry of that very different matter, the accumulation of sand that in the sixteenth century destroyed the haven of Sandwich.
A Royal Commission appears to have been appointed in the reign of Henry the Eighth for the purpose of ascertaining the cause of the Goodwin Sands and the sands that were silting up Sandwich haven, and of finding a method of dealing with them. Bishop Latimer narrated in one of his sermons, as an example of unverified gossip, how Sir Thomas More, taking evidence, was met with some curious ideas:
“Maister More was once sent in commission into Kent; to help to trie out (if it might be) what was the cause of Goodwin Sandes, and the shelfs that stopped up Sandwich Haven. Thether commeth Maister More, and calleth the countrye afore him, such as were thought to be men of experience, and men that could of likelihode best certify him of that matter, concerning the stopping of Sandwich haven. Among others came in before him an olde man with a white beard, and one that was thought to be a little lesse than a hundereth yeares olde. When Maister More saw this aged man, he thought it expedient to heare him say his minde in this matter, for, being so olde a man, it was likely that he knew most of any man in that presence and company. So Maister More called this olde aged man unto him, and sayed: ‘Father,’ sayd he, ‘tell me, if ye can, what is the cause of this great arising of the sande and shelves here about this haven, and which stop it up that no shippes can arrive here? Ye are the oldest man that I can espie in all this companye, so that, if any man can tell any cause of it, ye of likelihode can say most in it, or at leastwise more than any other man here assembled.’
“‘Yea, forsooth, good maister,’ quod this olde man, ‘for I am well nigh an hundreth yeares old, and no man here in this company anything neare unto mine age.’
“‘Well, then,’ quod Maister More, ‘how say you in this matter? What thinke ye to be the cause of these shelves and flattes that stoppe up Sandwiche haven?’