OYSTERMOUTH CASTLE.
"Here—the 'grim-visor'd knight,' at the head of his band,
Has cased him in armour, and girt on his brand;
While Beauty looked down from her lattice on high,
With the 'smile on her lip and the tear in her eye.'
But victor nor vassal shall hither return:—
The castle is roofless,—the chief's in his urn;
And those ramparts, that frown o'er the surf-beaten rocks,
Are the haunt of the sea-fowl,—the lair of the fox."
This stately relic of the feudal ages overlooks the picturesque Bay of Swansea, and attracts many strangers to its gate,—not only for its venerable antiquity, but for its bold position on the verge of lofty and abrupt limestone cliffs, which command a magnificent view of the subjacent scenery. It is supposed by some to have been erected by the Earl of Warwick, in the reign of Henry the First; by others, to have been the family fortress of the Lords of Gower, in the reign of King John. But to which of the two the credit of founder belongs is matter of conjecture. Like the Castle of Swansea, already mentioned, it is now the property of the Beaufort family, whose mineral possessions in this district are said to be of incalculable value.
The principal walls of this domestic fortress have suffered comparatively little from the lapse of time, or the hand of violence. Most of the original apartments may be easily traced out, so as to give a tolerably correct idea of their shape and dimensions, and the internal economy with which they were arranged. The general figure of the main body is polygonal; the ramparts are lofty and massive, but not flanked with towers, except at the entrance, which appears to have been strongly secured by double gates and a portcullis.
In many parts along this picturesque coast, the limestone rocks swell over a fine sandy beach into perpendicular cliffs of great boldness, exhibiting vast quantities of organic remains, and worn in many places into deep and lofty caverns. Built on a cliff of this description, and with all the necessary accessories of vigilance and security, it could have been hardly possible to have selected anything more eligible for a feudal keep, whose chiefs generally chose their fortalices as the eagle chooses his eyry,—to secure a wide field for himself, and exclude lesser birds of prey.
The village of Oystermouth—about half a mile to the south of the castle—occupies a beautiful position on the verge of the Bay. A lofty rock throws its shadow over it; the headland of which, called the Mumble Point, stretches far into the sea, and affords a safe anchorage for shipping. The village is chiefly inhabited by fishermen, who, as the name implies, are mostly employed in dredging for oysters, which are found of superior quality in the adjoining bay. During summer, it is much resorted to by strangers, for the benefit of sea-bathing,—a source of annual revenue to the inhabitants, who, by letting their apartments, secure very good returns.