_Swansea Bay:--Scenery and Antiquities of Gower._
The coast scenery of the western portion of Glamorgan is of singular
beauty. We shall ever recall with delight our recollections of Gower,
and we believe the future tourist will thank us for the outline of the
more prominent beauties in the circle of the district, which we now
give. Let us suppose ourselves at Swansea, and start on an excursion to
the Mumbles and Caswell Bay. A road has been formed within these few
years to the village of Oystermouth, about five miles from Swansea.
It is perfectly level, bounded by a tram-road, and runs close to the
sea-beach, forming the western side of Swansea Bay. The encroachments
of the sea have been very extensive here; at high water shipping now
traverse what was fifty years ago, we are told, a marshy flat, bordered
by a wood near the present road, the stumps of which yet appear on the
sandy beach. We have several times on riding to low water mark (about
three quarters of a mile out) been nearly involved in a quick-sand
adventure. Landward, the ground is broken and elevated, and thickly
studded with gentlemen's seats the whole distance; many of which are
embosomed in wood, and have a beautiful effect. Marino, an extensive
new mansion in the Elizabethan or old English style of architecture,
belonging to Mr. J.H. Vivian, and Woodlands Castle, the seat of General
Warde, which is very picturesque, are particularly deserving of
attention. After passing the hamlet of Norton, you near Oystermouth
Castle, an extensive and splendid Gothic ruin, in fine preservation,
which rears its "ivy-mantled" walls, above an eminence adjoining the
road. Some suppose it to have been built by Henry de Newburgh, Earl
of Warwick, in Henry the First's reign; others ascribe it on better
authority to the Lords Braose, of Gower, in the reign of John; it is now
the property of the Duke of Beaufort, whose care in its preservation
cannot be too much commended. The inspection of this interesting ruin
will repay the traveller:
By the grim storm-clouds overcast,
Even like a spectre of the past,--
Of rapine, feudal strife, and blood,
Thou tellest an old, wild, warlike story,
When squadrons on thy ramparts stood,
With spear and shield in martial glory!