Tu Hwnt i’r Bont dates back to the latter end of the 15th century and is now in the hands of the National Trust and open as a tearoom. Once a farmhouse it became a Court of Sessions during the period of the Wynn’s of Gwydir.
‘When steel-shod cattle crossed the ford,
And the valley ruled by a well-wined Lord;
I stood a Court House, cold and grave,
As dismal as old Siencyn’sCave;
On yonder crag I spelt the Law,
An object of pity,spile and awe;
And many a knarled and trembling hand,
In terror gripped the witness stand;
As empty-gloried tyrants sat,
And on their fellow mortals spat;
Their bride-horned justice, dark the day.
Where the Wynnn’s of Gwydir held ther sway.
(From the poem Tu Hwnt i’r Bont – Thomas Pennant)
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