Caswell Bay in 1857

The road to Caswell Bay winds beneath the castle, and ascends a very steep hill to the little village of Newton, which leaving on the right hand, you descend a rocky road, bounded on one side by fields, and on the other by a common or waste. Passing a very pretty marine residence, and fresh water well, cool and clear, in the midst of sand and pebbles, you suddenly come in eight of the splendid bay. There is a slight quick-sand in one spot as you approach the beach, large stones thrown on it speedily disappear. Beautiful chains of rock form the Bay. One group is peculiarly striking, it is called Fresh Water Cave; because a spring of fresh water runs from them as they stand boldly out on the sand, and trickles onward to the sea.

 A comfortable inn and lodging house, ever full of lodgers and gay flitting visitors, stands on an eminence looking down on the glorious bay. The magnificent sweep of bright waters, expansive beach, firm sheltered sands, nobly piled rocks and breezy heather-scented down, covered with little star-like flowers, rich purple, pink, and white; the sands thronged with walkers and donkey-riders, every cave or heathery nook ringing with peals of gay laughter from the merry groups at lunch or tea, render it a charming scene, with which few of our English watering places can compare.

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