The Workhouse, known as Y Dolydd – which was designed by the County Surveyor of Montgomeryshire, Thomas Penson – was built between 1837 and 1841.

At the time the building was a focus for considerable hostility, with a mob even setting out from Llanfair Caereinion intent on destroying it.

As the Dolydd Preservation Trust attempts to secure the funding to restore the building the County Times took the chance to take a look round in its current dilapidated state.

What is immediately noticeable is the building's setting on the outskirts of Llanfyllin, which seems indicative of the way those who came to live there would find themselves separated from the rest of society.

Although nearly completely bare and derelict internally, there is no doubt the building still contains echoes of its harrowing Dickensian past. In fact the empty and silent rooms, coupled with the knowledge of its role as a repository for the left overs of society, only adds to the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Completely stripped of furniture or fittings and with paint cracking off the walls, a thick layer off dust covers the old reception room – the first sighting for those unfortunate enough to have no other alternative than the workhouse.

Despite its barren state it's not difficult to imagine the overwhelming sense of apprehension which would have greeted those filing through the entrance to begin their life as an 'inmate' of Y Dolydd.

Clothes would be handed over and replaced with the staple garment of the establishment's workers – the uniform. They would then be ushered through the side door for their inductory shower – welcome to the poorhouse.

The sight of the barren and derelict boys' dormitory is to a certain extent quite chilling – evoking thoughts of what it would have been like to lie awake in the dead of night, in what amounted to little more than a crudely and cruelly designed social safety-net.

The dormitory itself, which is now graffitied, has doors at both ends, with either side lined by windows looking out upon the rest of the complex, while the teasing prospect of the open hills sits visible in the background.

One of the things I found most striking about the building was the cramped feeling to a lot of the rooms. Although the Workhouse is a substantial complex, the way it was compartmentalised creates a feeling of claustrophobia, which would only have been exaggerated in its full and bustling working state.

A telltale reminder of the building's past is the master's quarters, which sits like a crow's nest in the centre of the compound. The room is hexagonal with windows overlooking the four quarters of the workhouse, allowing the master to keep watch over the subjects in all quarters.

To those of us raised in today's welfare state safety-net society it's a disturbing thought that those too poor to sustain themselves were in effect punished for their lack of financial means.

See all the pictures taken inside the Workhouse by our chief photographer, Phil Blagg, by visiting our Picture Gallery section.