This was part of a roadtrip that saw us visit St Georges Stafford, Denbigh, Deva, Whittingham, High Royds and Fletchers, all in one weekend...
The Facade of Denbigh is an imposing structure, reminiscient of other 19th century northern asylums such as Lancaster Moor and High Royds . Stone was a popular choice of building material in the mid 19th century, and Denbigh's limestone bricks were sourced locally, both from a nearby quarry, and from the ruins of Denbigh castle. The clocktower was funded by a Mrs Ablett, in memory of her late husband. No doubt she would be relieved to hear that it is part of the site that won't be destroyed in the imminent demolition.
The asylum was built to house and assist Welsh speaking lunatics, as incarceration in an English speaking asylum was counter-productive, and considered cruel by some. At the time it opened, English was an uncommon language in Wales, an age when paupers didn't travel far from their hometowns. The Denbigh Asylum was seen as an asylum to cover more than one county, at a time when the legislation was strict regarding funding for unusual projects such as this. Queen Victoria donated 50 guineas and the project was underway.
Serving such a large area inevitably saw stress on the hospital's resources, and in 1899, an extension was built to ease the overcrowding, providing 1500 beds.
The hospital looks little different to how it did 50 years ago (Photo from BBC)
The centrepiece of many asylums was it's main hall. Used for leisure activities, plays and productions, later film showings, it was one facility thoughout the hospital that was shared between both sexes. The Victorians that ran the hopsital had strong opinions on gender roles, and sexes were separated for moral and practical reasons. Remembering that patients were sometimes committed for 'moral insanity' (Pre-maritial sex), it was important not to let them share romances within the hospital, which could lead to pregnancy and the birth of an 'idiot child', another patient to find funding and a bed for.
Today, the Main Hall has a suspended ceiling, hiding the spendour of the original plasterwork, while also making the hall seem more like a dining hall than a ballroom. This was most likely done to cut the heating costs, as the falling population throughout the 1980s reduced the cost-effectiveness of the asylums, an addition to the funding cuts which happened when the NHS took over the hospitals and ran them as trusts.
Into the Corridor network, and the decay of 12 years of dereliction are evident. Peeling paint is order of the day, fallen tiles exposing the buildings to the elements. Water gets in, but doesn't get out so easily. Denbigh is a soggy mess. The arched corridors are picturesque, the architecture a counterpoint to the decay.
Despite only having the presence of a natural source of light, Denbigh's corridor network seemed light and airy, with skylights dotted around at regular intervals. Grafittiists have made a mess of the walls, scribbles and scratches marking the idiocy of today's and yesterday's youth.
In other parts of the hospital, the decay is purely natural.
If you climb the clock tower, you will be met by grafitti along the way, various persons having claimed to have climbed the tower throughout the history of the hospital. I am sceptical as to whether some of these are original or not, but they stoke the imagination. The view from the top is spendid, with grand yet bleak brick buildings beneath, as the hills of Denbighshire roll into the distance.
In the admin block, what was once a grand double height entrance hall is now split into offices, a floor placed between, functionality ruling over spendour.
This part reminded me of Cane Hill. Perhaps the architecture (vertical support struts in rows along the middle of wide ward), perhaps the decay. Light streamed in through the windows, cold December light piercing through holes in the walls, windows, doors and ceilings.
Artefacts like these provoke thoughts of cruelty, lack of compassion and the bygone era when the chief psychiatrists job was to administer medicine. Quite why this door has 'poisons' written on, I don't know, but it's something that reminds you a ruin like Denbigh was once a hospital, an house for the insane.
Corridors like this with small side rooms and narrow entrances would have been the most likely locations for Padded cells. While few remain in hospitals, there is little evidence of where they would have been located. Side rooms were suitable for disruptive and violent patients. Containment was easier than cure, when many patients were chronic and staff were incapable of doing anything other than administering medicine, feeding, toileting and making sure the day passed without incident. Bear in mind that if a patient absconded, staff were often charged the expenses incurred to return the patient.
Glass bricks on one side, aluminium windows on the other. Moss and carpet hides rotting parquet floors in other parts of the hospital, the cleanliness and shine once a shiny edifice to the efficiency and usefulness of patients (unpaid of course)
At the very back of the hospital is the utility areas, built in the same style and brick, lying in the shadows of the wards. Denbigh was self sufficient, but one of the first things that happened under the NHS was that the farms were closed down or sold, and produce was bought from local markets, assumably at a cheaper price. While this may have helped finances, it took away the purpose of some patients, who'd worked on the farm for years.
Denbigh didn't have a water tower, but it did have these massive tanks at the back of the hospital.
The morgue slab is now shattered to smithereens, when I visited it was in two parts. It's a shame that people do this.
The Chapel is totally stripped, and one of the first buildings to be demolished I suspect. Religion was an important part of life in the asylum; Victorians expecting their patients to lead a virtuous life involving strict routine and the presence of god at every turn. Church was another time when patients of different gender would meet.
I'm itching to get back to Denbigh. I don't think I've done it justice, but the wreckers ball is going to be there soon. I'm sad about that.
The Facade of Denbigh is an imposing structure, reminiscient of other 19th century northern asylums such as Lancaster Moor and High Royds . Stone was a popular choice of building material in the mid 19th century, and Denbigh's limestone bricks were sourced locally, both from a nearby quarry, and from the ruins of Denbigh castle. The clocktower was funded by a Mrs Ablett, in memory of her late husband. No doubt she would be relieved to hear that it is part of the site that won't be destroyed in the imminent demolition.
The asylum was built to house and assist Welsh speaking lunatics, as incarceration in an English speaking asylum was counter-productive, and considered cruel by some. At the time it opened, English was an uncommon language in Wales, an age when paupers didn't travel far from their hometowns. The Denbigh Asylum was seen as an asylum to cover more than one county, at a time when the legislation was strict regarding funding for unusual projects such as this. Queen Victoria donated 50 guineas and the project was underway.
Serving such a large area inevitably saw stress on the hospital's resources, and in 1899, an extension was built to ease the overcrowding, providing 1500 beds.
The hospital looks little different to how it did 50 years ago (Photo from BBC)
The centrepiece of many asylums was it's main hall. Used for leisure activities, plays and productions, later film showings, it was one facility thoughout the hospital that was shared between both sexes. The Victorians that ran the hopsital had strong opinions on gender roles, and sexes were separated for moral and practical reasons. Remembering that patients were sometimes committed for 'moral insanity' (Pre-maritial sex), it was important not to let them share romances within the hospital, which could lead to pregnancy and the birth of an 'idiot child', another patient to find funding and a bed for.
Today, the Main Hall has a suspended ceiling, hiding the spendour of the original plasterwork, while also making the hall seem more like a dining hall than a ballroom. This was most likely done to cut the heating costs, as the falling population throughout the 1980s reduced the cost-effectiveness of the asylums, an addition to the funding cuts which happened when the NHS took over the hospitals and ran them as trusts.
Into the Corridor network, and the decay of 12 years of dereliction are evident. Peeling paint is order of the day, fallen tiles exposing the buildings to the elements. Water gets in, but doesn't get out so easily. Denbigh is a soggy mess. The arched corridors are picturesque, the architecture a counterpoint to the decay.
Despite only having the presence of a natural source of light, Denbigh's corridor network seemed light and airy, with skylights dotted around at regular intervals. Grafittiists have made a mess of the walls, scribbles and scratches marking the idiocy of today's and yesterday's youth.
In other parts of the hospital, the decay is purely natural.
If you climb the clock tower, you will be met by grafitti along the way, various persons having claimed to have climbed the tower throughout the history of the hospital. I am sceptical as to whether some of these are original or not, but they stoke the imagination. The view from the top is spendid, with grand yet bleak brick buildings beneath, as the hills of Denbighshire roll into the distance.
In the admin block, what was once a grand double height entrance hall is now split into offices, a floor placed between, functionality ruling over spendour.
This part reminded me of Cane Hill. Perhaps the architecture (vertical support struts in rows along the middle of wide ward), perhaps the decay. Light streamed in through the windows, cold December light piercing through holes in the walls, windows, doors and ceilings.
Artefacts like these provoke thoughts of cruelty, lack of compassion and the bygone era when the chief psychiatrists job was to administer medicine. Quite why this door has 'poisons' written on, I don't know, but it's something that reminds you a ruin like Denbigh was once a hospital, an house for the insane.
Corridors like this with small side rooms and narrow entrances would have been the most likely locations for Padded cells. While few remain in hospitals, there is little evidence of where they would have been located. Side rooms were suitable for disruptive and violent patients. Containment was easier than cure, when many patients were chronic and staff were incapable of doing anything other than administering medicine, feeding, toileting and making sure the day passed without incident. Bear in mind that if a patient absconded, staff were often charged the expenses incurred to return the patient.
Glass bricks on one side, aluminium windows on the other. Moss and carpet hides rotting parquet floors in other parts of the hospital, the cleanliness and shine once a shiny edifice to the efficiency and usefulness of patients (unpaid of course)
At the very back of the hospital is the utility areas, built in the same style and brick, lying in the shadows of the wards. Denbigh was self sufficient, but one of the first things that happened under the NHS was that the farms were closed down or sold, and produce was bought from local markets, assumably at a cheaper price. While this may have helped finances, it took away the purpose of some patients, who'd worked on the farm for years.
Denbigh didn't have a water tower, but it did have these massive tanks at the back of the hospital.
The morgue slab is now shattered to smithereens, when I visited it was in two parts. It's a shame that people do this.
The Chapel is totally stripped, and one of the first buildings to be demolished I suspect. Religion was an important part of life in the asylum; Victorians expecting their patients to lead a virtuous life involving strict routine and the presence of god at every turn. Church was another time when patients of different gender would meet.
I'm itching to get back to Denbigh. I don't think I've done it justice, but the wreckers ball is going to be there soon. I'm sad about that.
