205 
MISS COBBE AND HER PERSECUTORS. 
HE public throughout Great Britain have been shocked 
by one of the cruellest attacks upon a woman who, 
now in her eightieth year, might well for her years’ 
sake have been spared the worry and the mud-throw- 
ing consequent upon a public trial, even if her long years of 
constant endeavour in the cause of kindness to animals did not 
entitle her to consideration. 
It would appear that Miss Frances Power Cobbe, whose pen 
can be as a sharp sword, had called down upon herself the 
enmity of the otter-hunting brotherhood in the Dolgelly Vale 
by vehemently protesting against that particular form of sport. 
She had brought matters to a head by refusing access to her 
grounds and stream at Hengwrt for the purpose of pursuing 
her friend the otter. The brotherhood of sport — and to the credit 
of Wales, be it said, they were not natives, but men who as 
Englishmen have brought discredit upon the meaning of the 
term gentleman — determined to have their revenge. They 
knew that Miss Cobbe had inherited from her friend. Miss 
Lloyd, a pair of carriage horses. They knew, too, or might 
have known, that there was a kind of understanding between 
the deceased lady and Miss Cobbe that these horses should 
have the best and kindest treatment that probably ever could 
fall to the lot of aged horses. Old age came upon them and 
they grew stiff in limb, but they were stout of heart, took their 
food well, had comfortable quarters, and did the least possible 
amount of work. 
Now and again, perhaps twice in a month, these aged horses 
were seen to take a “ landau ” that weighed 12 cwt., and 
therefore could not be said to be a heavy one, to Barmouth 
with their aged mistress. They walked up all the hills, they 
went very slowly on the level, they rested some hours, were 
well fed, and then returned. Their gait, or the gait of one who 
was about 20 years old, was the shuffling gait of most horses 
who attain to that venerable age ; but though the old grey 
horse went groggily, he went painlessly, and he went cheerily. 
There was no heat in his legs, and nothing that could in any 
sense be said to show that he suffered anything but the slow 
increase of years. 
But the otter-hunters who very carefully kept in the back- 
ground at the trial, thought it would be a huge joke to wait their 
opportunity, catch Miss Cobbe and her ancient horse midway 
upon their Barmouth journey, send police to examine the horse 
in its stable, and lay an information against Miss Cobbe for 
cruelty to animals. 
Such information implied that on June 16 Miss Cobbe had 
knowingly inflicted pain upon her aged servitor, and that she 
was indictable for a criminal offence. The worst feature of the 
