[8] 34 and 35 Henry 8. c. 13.--"That the said county have hitherto been excluded from the high court of parliament, to have any knights and burgesses within the said court, by reason whereof the inhabitants have sustained manifold damages in their lands, goods, and bodies, as well as in the good governance of the commonwealth of their said country; and for as much as they have been bound by the acts of the said court, and yet have had no knights and burgesses therein, for lack whereof they have been often touched and grieved by the acts of the said parliament, prejudicial to the commonwealth, quietness, rest, and peace of your highness's bounden subjects, inhabiting within the said county," &c. * * * * * THE TOPOGRAPHER. TRAVELLING NOTES IN SOUTH WALES. (_Continued from page 312._) The grounds of Penrice Castle, which stretch to the sea-shore, and on which art has embellished scenery possessing capabilities of a high order--are exceedingly picturesque and extensive. Penrice bears marks of having been a Roman station. Henry de Newburgh, Earl of Warwick, here defeated the Welsh prince, Rhys, which decided the fate of Gower. He was beheaded after the battle, whence the Welsh name, Pen-Rhys. On the field of battle the victor erected Penrice Castle, which is now certainly a striking ruin. On the coast near Penrice is the village and ruins of the Castle of Oxwich, now a barn--_sic transit!_ The afternoon was waxing apace--we had lost time in attending to our horses, for ostler there was none--and in musing amongst the simply decorated graves in the humble churchyard;[9] after discussing with great relish our repast of eggs and bacon, and Welsh ale, the best the village afforded, (by the way, we shall not readily forget the fluster of our Welsh hostess when we talked of dining on our arrival at the little hostelrie) we then rode down to the sea-shore, intending to cross the sandy beach of Oxwich, which extends several miles, on our return to the Gower Inn. The tide flows with great rapidity on this coast, and it had already advanced to the foot of a stupendous headland, which juts into the beach about half way. We waded our horses through the surf--but how can we do justice to the splendour of the scenery around us. The alternations of stern and savage beauty--the gigantic masses of "fantastic cliffs," and caverns, that have stood the combat of the mighty Atlantic for countless ages? Oxwich is almost unknown to the traveller, and there are few coast scenes in these islands that surpass it in beauty. We lingered long on the shore. There is a perpetual "jabble" against the cliffs on this coast--and we have seldom met with a soul save an aged and solitary fisherwoman--a study for a Bonington--pursuing her precarious calling of crab or shrimp fishing, or of pulling lobsters from their retreats in the savage cliffs. [9] See _Mirror_, vol. xvi. p. 253.