My name is Janette Sexton nee Williams. I was born in 1949 and brought up in St Hilary's Terrace, Denbigh. I lived in The Castle until I was 18 when I moved to Chester to work in what is termed a Victorian Asylum, although it was actually built in 1829.
As a young nurse I was often asked where I lived in Denbigh and when I told them it was The Castle, my reply was met with a variety of responses. It was often silence, but more often astonishment. 'You lived in a castle?' I didn't always clear the matter up, as I was highly amused at what may be running through the mind of the enquirer.
When I was very small I believed that The Castle did actually belong to my family. My taid was The Castle Keeper, he had a vegetable plot just inside the grounds and stored mounds of root vegetables through the winter in the cellar of his house. Real organic food. My father played bowls in The Royal Bowling Green, sited just to the left of The Castle and next to the Gwyniau woods. The Castle and the woods were to me, simply an integral part of my life. I listened to stories my mother, my aunties and their friends told of earlier days in the history of The Castle and the Gwyniau. Tall stories maybe? Who knows, but the affection and affiliation people had towards each other was palpable. A shopping visit to town was a social occasion. All of the stories found a fond home in my young mind. Ready to be retrieved at a later date.
There were two other buildings which stay in my mind. The North Wales Hospital played a big role. Both my parents worked there and this influenced my own choice of career. This wonderful building still stands. I heard the myths of the building told and retold while I quietly listened, fascinated by the descriptions of another huge and impressive building. I was heartened by the evident camaraderie of the staff. The stories of the dances. The plethora of sporting events for staff and patients.
The National School in Lenten Pool was a smaller but equally interesting building and to me it was the happiest place. In this school the beauty of Denbigh was valued. Its history was acknowledged and my childish literary ability, such as it was, was rewarded by the splendid teachers. Life was still one of freedom for most children and my experience was a good one.
My memories of Denbigh in the 50s and 60s were coloured by lovely straightforward people in beautiful surroundings. We even had snow then. The view from The Castle is possibly only fully appreciated after an absence of decades. For me it still has the rosy glow of a happy and sunny childhood.
The combination of the influences of these buildings and the experiences I had, has resulted in a novel. The Basic Fault, based around Denbigh, Anglesey, Chester and Merseyside. The central theme is the mental disturbance of the inhabitants of a dying mental hospital. The Victorian Asylum I mentioned earlier. But there is one major difference. The mental disturbance does not concern the patients, but instead it is the staff who come under scrutiny. 
your comments
Janette Sexton nee Williams
Here is a little poem for you Robert. I'm sure it will bring back memories of a carefree time.
Denbigh Day
Miles melting away under summer skies, beautiful, bright and blue.
What were miles to feet well shod, young brown legs, muscles spanking new.
Running running running, fast unfettered free. Flying furiously down the hill until we reached our tree.
Walking then and talking. Really talking, no pomp or side.
Listening to the bees hum until we reached the rise.
And then we lay in castles of grass, dreaming soaking giggling rolling, and then perhaps a bite to eat before we started strolling.
Hours and hours. Flowers and flowers. Sun drenched and so – so happy. Till the spell was stilled by dusk and a sadly sighing belly!
The sun, huge red and coy, dropping to a peep. Night sounds advancing, gnats in clumps dancing. Full with inexorable joy. Home tired and spent and then to sleep.
Tue Nov 18 08:18:39 2008
Robert Frost
Janette, I well remember your Taid. He was a lovely man and always welcomed visitors to the Castle. I am 10 years older than you but was also born in Denbigh. I lived in St David's, the house at the entrance to the hospital opposite Parc y Twll. I expect I knew your parents as the staff at the hospital were a very close knit community. I have written some words under the hospital heading, as has my elder brother David who now lives in Zimbabwe, and my younger sister Christine who went to Howells School. I now live in Tasmania but remember Denbigh where I was brought up with a great deal of fondness. I can still give you names of about 50 of the hospital staff!
Mon Oct 20 08:09:52 2008
Susan Jenkins, Leamington Spa
I was intrigued to read this article by Janette Sexton as my mother's mother lived at 2 St Hilary's Terrace, The Castle, Denbigh in 1912 and worked as a housemaid. I do not know if this was at the castle or elsewhere. I am trying to trace my family tree - but have come to a halt on my mother's side as I do not have a name for her father and have no idea how old my grandmother was when she gave birth to my mother. My mother was born in Chorlton upon Medlock, Manchester and never knew her mother. Who looked after my mother and how she got from Manchester to London where she met my father I do not know. I would be interested if any one had a relation - grandmother, great grandmother or aunt of Elizabeth Annie Jones (maiden name) from St Hilary's Terrace.
Wed Oct 31 10:52:52 2007
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