“‘Forsooth, syr,’ quoth he, ‘I am an olde man: I thinke that Tenterton steeple is the cause of Goodwin Sandes. For I am an olde man, syr,’ quod he, ‘and I may remember the building of Tenterton steeple, and I may remember when there was no steeple at all there. And before that Tenterton steeple was in building, there was no manner of speaking of any flats or sands that stopped the haven; and therefore I thinke that Tenterton steeple is the cause of the destroying and decaying of Sandwich haven.’”

The ancient man whose evidence seemed to Bishop Latimer so absurd a non sequitur was not such a fool as he seemed to be, and did but echo the olden widespread belief in Kent that “the building of Tenterden steeple was the cause of Goodwin Sands.” That belief, when explained, is not so ridiculous as at first sight it appears, even though it be founded upon a legend that has no basis whatever. This legend declares that the Abbot of St. Augustine’s Abbey at Canterbury, to build the steeple of Tenterden church, employed a quantity of stone that had been set aside for repairing the sea-walls defending the Goodwins, then a portion of the mainland; and that the next storm, in consequence, drowned thousands of acres.

Quite apart from the want of any foundation for this legend, the question was further confused by the old man of Latimer’s story associating the existing fine and stately Perpendicular tower of Tenterden church with the disaster. The old belief obviously went back to a remote period and referred to some ancient steeple at Tenterden that he never knew.

This folk-tale does not by any means agree with the ancient and widespread legend that the Goodwins form the site of an island called Lomea, said to have been overwhelmed in the great storm of 1099, mentioned in the Saxon Chronicle. John Twyne, or Twine, who in 1590 published a work he called De Rebus Albionicis, appears to give the earliest mention of “Lomea.” He says it was “a low fertile island,” but it is not known whence came his authority for the existence of the isle, or the description of it.

Lomea is said to have been given by Edward the Confessor to Earl Godwin, father of King Harold; but Godwin (from whose name the Goodwin Sands are said to take their title) died in 1053, and no mention is found of Lomea or any such place in charters of that time; nor does it appear in Domesday Book. But it is quite obvious that an island must at some time have existed where the fatal sands now stretch, for most legends contain some nucleus of fact; and it is to be noted that, to the eastward of the North Goodwin, the water is shoaled by a chalk ridge, often said to be the site of that vanished isle.

The marvel-mongering monks of ancient times had their own version of the destruction of Earl Godwin’s island. According to them “it sonke sodainly into the sea,” as the punishment ordained by Heaven for his sins. Another absurd story, accounting in a quite different way for the existence of the Sands, declared that they first appeared above water after Holland had been overflowed by the sea; the greater distribution of water reducing the sea-level.

There is indeed a very wide choice of tradition and legend from which to select the most likely story, and in addition to those already cited there is a tale of how Earl Godwin, in one of his predatory expeditions, penetrating into the weald of Kent and finding himself in a desperately dangerous situation, vowed, if he were permitted to return in safety, that he would build a steeple at Tenterden. Neglecting to fulfil his vow, his island was destroyed by a justly offended Providence. A variant of this declares that, anxious to fulfil his pledge, in doing so he neglected the dams and seawalls of his domain, which was accordingly overwhelmed in the next great storm.

The Goodwin Sands are of irregular shape, constantly changing in detail, but in general are considered to resemble the form of a lobster, and thus the North and South Callipers stand for the claws. So long ago as 1845 an official report stated that the Brake Sand had moved bodily inwards towards the shore, 700 yards within fifty years. By 1885 the Bunthead Shoal had disappeared and the South Calliper had moved one mile to the north-east; and in 1896 it was discovered that the Goodwins had continued a general movement, already noticed, towards the coast, and that the area of drying sand at low tide had largely increased.

For the Goodwin Sands have this peculiarity, among others, that they show above water at the ebb. The North Goodwin indeed is not covered by more than eight or ten feet at high water; but the South Goodwin is submerged some twenty-four feet. It is no uncommon adventure, although apt to be a risky one, to land upon the sands at low tide; and cricket-matches have on several occasions been played upon them, although, being more or less yielding, and intersected by pools and runnels, they do not form an ideal site for the purpose. The first match played here was in 1824, when all details of it were arranged by Captain Kennet Martin, who, as harbour-master at Ramsgate, was thoroughly acquainted with the Sands, and was able to bring the occasion to a successful issue. Another match, played in 1839 by a party from Deal, had not concluded when the wind freshened and they found it an ill thing to be on the Goodwins with only a small boat that, useful enough on a calm sea, was of no use at all in half a gale. No oarsmen are strong enough to pull away from the Sands under those circumstances; and there those adventurous cricketers had to remain, facing death, or the alternative of their danger being recognised by their friends ashore. Fortunately for them, one of the hovelling luggers of Deal was despatched in time.

Two other matches have been played on the Goodwins, one in 1844, and another in 1855; and on August 31st, 1887, a one-mile cycle race was run by three foolhardy cyclists from London. The time taken by the speediest of the three was three minutes, thirty seconds.