Leprosy On Guernsey

🕯️ The Leprosy House at L’Ancresse

Tucked away among the wind-swept dunes of L’Ancresse Common lies one of Guernsey’s most forgotten and fascinating ruins — the remains of the island’s medieval leper house.

🏚️ A Place of Isolation

In the 13th and 14th centuries, leprosy — or Hansen’s disease — was widely misunderstood, feared, and often moralised as a divine punishment. Across Europe, those afflicted were cast out, and Guernsey was no exception.

At L’Ancresse, on the remote north coast, a small structure was built: part hospital, part chapel, and part prison of kindness. Known locally as La Maison des Lépreux, it offered the barest shelter to those diagnosed with the disease. Food was left nearby. Contact was forbidden. Burials were done quietly, often with no priest present.

⛪ Church Records and Silence

Documents in the St Sampson’s Church registers mention a “maison de refuge” near L’Ancresse as early as 1315, though few details survive. A 16th-century French record from the Évêché de Coutances refers to “les pauvres mis à L’Ancresse,” suggesting it may have remained in use well into the post-medieval era.

Oral tradition in the Vale held that “the wind cried more loudly there,” a phrase passed down for generations. Fishermen avoided walking nearby after dark.

🪦 Burial Grounds?

Locals occasionally unearth bones near the ruins — often dismissed as livestock. But in 1893, a team of antiquarians recorded the discovery of a shallow grave lined with broken roof tiles, a common medieval burial practice for plague and leprosy victims. No formal excavation has been carried out.

A small stone cross, half-buried in grass and lichen, stands nearby. Some say it marks the resting place of the last “resident.”

💭 Life Within

We can only imagine the lives of those sent there. Once part of families, now cast adrift in a bleak corner of the common. They watched the sea, the gulls, and the changing of the gorse. Perhaps they sang. Perhaps they prayed.

In the old Guernésiais tongue, leprosy was sometimes called la maladi des esprits — “the sickness of spirits.”

🧭 Today

The ruins still exist, though easily missed. A few stones arranged in a rectangle, lost amid gorse and grass near the golf course. There are no signs, no plaque. Just the wind, as loud as ever.

Some visitors leave flowers. Others leave coins.