From the https://www.kentlive.news By John James, 15 September 2019.

The story of Hampton-on-Sea: The sunken Kent hamlet now lost to the sea.

The fascinating story of the ill fated settlement that's been under water for 100 years.

Hampton Pier is only visible at low tide.

Hampton Pier is a lonely spit of land that is only visible at low tide, but it conceals a somewhat tragic past.

It is hard to imagine anything could have possibly happened here at all, or that it was ever anything but rock and sea.

However underneath these murky waters lies the story of Hampton-On-Sea, Kent’s very own sunken hamlet.

The Herne Bay, Hampton and Reculver Oyster Fishery Company.

The first signs of meaningful activity on the land came in the 1860s when an Oyster fishing company was founded there.

It was named the Herne Bay, Hampton and Reculver Oyster Fishery Company and the land around it quickly began to be used as part of operations.

A 300 metre long pier was built to moor the company’s boats on and accommodation for staff was provided through the building of 12 terraced houses.

The Herne Bay, Hampton and Reculver Oyster Fishery Company.

The scale of this company was so impressive that its many remnants outlived the spit of land they were originally based on, with inland oyster pools in the surrounding area staying around until the 1990’s when they were drained to become Hampton playground.

The Oyster company is just the beginning of Hampton-On-Sea's history.

It failed to take off and ceased operations in 1884 leaving the land empty and in need of use.

The Kent towns now 'lost' to south east London - and why it happened

It was then decided it would function as a new seaside residential estate.

This would prove to be a mistake…

Looking west from the site of Hampton-On-Sea: Then & Now.

Grand vision.

With the Oystery failing, Thomas Kyffin Freeman, local entrepreneur and owner of local paper The Herne Bay Argus sensed an opportunity to make money.

He bought up £60,000 worth of shares in the land and had grand designs on turning the area into a thriving seaside resort.

He erected a bandstand and laid the foundations for tennis courts, reading rooms and a miniature golf course.

He also organised a large sports day and offered free teas to those who came. That was until too many turned up, and he realised he’d ran out of teas.

His grand vision for the area was a housing estate and in anticipation of this a ‘Hampton-on-Sea’ name board was erected on the side of the platform at Herne Bay station.

Unfortunately, Freeman died of a stroke shortly afterwards in 1880 and his dream was never realised.

Instead Frederick Francis Ramuz, the mayor of Southend and a prominent land agent, bought up the area and tried to do a similar thing but with limited success as by now the sea was closing in.

The sea's mercy.

By the 1890s the seas was closing in on the tiny settlement of Hampton-On-Sea.

The north-Kent shoreline is prone to coastal erosion due to its geological make up being of soft permeable clay.

This is naturally worn away by the hydraulic action of the sea.

Hampton-On-Sea’s great pier would prove to be its downfall as it acted as a buffer to the westerly moving shingle.

Without the replenishing effect of the shingle, Hampton’s coastline was left unprotected and began to erode rapidly.

Living on the brink.

The last remnants of the Herne Bay, Hampton and Reculver Oyster Fishery Company were the terraced houses that ran along the stretch of land adjacent to the pier.

Known as Hernecliffe Gardens and Eddington Gardens, they represented the peak of Hampton-On-Sea's once burgeoning promise.

Opposite the pier, the The Hampston Oyster Inn (now The Hampton Inn) was built and remains there to this day as a reminder of the settlement that once was.

The residents of Hampton-On-Sea where never under any illusion. They knew they were living on the brink as the sea kept ever closer with each passing day.

Events are thought to have come to a head in what it known as ‘The Great Storm of 1897’ when massive waves damaged the properties of Hernecliffe Gardens and brought the sea tantalisingly close.

Waves crash against Hernecliffe Gardens.

From this moment on the residents of Hampton-On-Sea went into damage limitation mode.

The pier, which had been damaged in the storm, was partially removed in 1898 and a wall was erected the following year to little effect.

Try as they might, nothing could be done to halt the progress of the sea.

Edmund Reid and the hotel.

In 1903, Edmund Reid moved into the landward facing property at the end of Eddington Gardens.

Reid was famous for his handling of the Jack the Ripper case and was a known eccentric.

He named his house ‘Reid’s Ranch’ and set about busying himself in the plight of Hampton-on-Sea’s residents, becoming their unofficial champion.

He became well known for making light of the situation the settlement was in, going as far to paint battlements on the side of his house that faced the sea.

Edmund Reid and the inhabitants of Hampton-On-Sea photographed outside 'Reids Ranch' (Image: Marlinova)

Reid also set up his own 'hotel' in a shed outside his house.

Named the 'Hampton-On-Sea Hotel' he would sell lemonade and postcards from it, many of which depicting the settlement slowly sinking into the waves.

From the https://www.kentonline.co.uk By Secret Drinker, 27 January 2020.

Secret Drinker reviews the Hampton Inn, Herne Bay.

Fancy a day on the ocean wave? There can’t be many pubs closer to the sea than this one – look out of any one of nine large windows and you could almost be on a boat.

Perfectly positioned on a corner plot of Western Esplanade with the sea visible on two sides, the Hampton Inn is pretty unique in many ways. Many a pub can claim to be the ‘heart of the village’, but this one near Herne Bay is the village. It’s the only remaining building in Hampton-on-Sea - a Kent village that was engulfed by the sea and abandoned at the turn of the 20th century.

The pub is unquestionably the jewel in the Shepherd Neame crown.

And the friendly landlord, sat squarely at the bar with a large glass of red, was quick to sing the praises of his brewery.

But, before you can sample the delights this SN boozer has to offer you’ve got to get into the place. A sign on the door reads ‘please push hard’ and believe me they’re not kidding. Add the sea breeze to the weight of the door and the strength of the hinges and it’s useful if you were once a prop forward.

A second sign says: ‘My name is Alexi and I live here! I am very friendly and love to make human and furry friends, however, I may announce your arrival with a friendly bark!’

Sadly there wasn’t so much as a woof from Alexi for my entrance but everyone else on both sides of the bar was incredibly welcoming and vocal.

With the coastal path right outside, a free car park just paces away and spectacular scenery all around it’s hardly surprising this is a top choice for walkers and the pub is often packed with pooches. When I was in there it was just the landlord’s keeshond, two aging labradors and unlucky for some, the pub’s black cat.

There are plenty of bar stools and a few high tables for those seeking just a drink but the majority of tables were set with smart red and white tablecloths.

The two barmaids, both dressed in matching aqua blue polo shirts, the pub uniform and colour of choice, were efficient, chatty and bubbly.

The whole place is decorated with furniture and knick-knacks that would slot right into a beach hut, but it looks great and is obviously a cared for pub. The gents, like the rest of the place, is meticulously maintained.

The landlord and landlady, who showed up later and was equally smiley, have been here for three years and have stamped their mark on the place. But it’s those sea views which mark it out as special.

The barmaids, dressed in matching blue Polo shirts, are what make this pub tick.

We had an interesting chat about the other pubs in and around Herne Bay and it was fascinating to hear local views of the "Ship Inn" at the far side of town and, more specifically and their thoughts about Enterprise Inns (the largest pub company in the UK), which weren’t great. It’s probably no surprise, but their support for Shepherd Neame was warm and sincere.

By now it was a little after two and a couple of real workers, a fellow in a Heritage Building Preservation shirt and his mate Reece popped in for a well-earned pint. The main man was on Guinness, the mate stuck to lager.

I tried all the beers on tap and whilst the Lacons Charter and Master Brew were perfectly fine and well-kept the 4.1% Spitfire Gold was by far the best.

For sea views, not many pubs in Kent can beat this place.

The barmaids took a short break from serving tables to order themselves chips, though keeshond Alexi made sure he got his share.

There is a solitary fruit machine and a shelf full of board games but no sign of darts or pool. This is a pub without TV screens and without other unnecessary distractions.

It doesn’t need them – it has unrivalled views and provides a fantastic, welcoming haven by the sea to meet and make friends. It’s everything a great pub should be.