High in the verdant mountains behind the village of Orba, nestled within the dramatic, sun-dappled slopes of the Alicante province, lies a place unlike any other—a place of silence, serenity, and sacred history.
This is Fontilles, a tranquil sanctuary perched in the municipality of La Vall de Laguar. For over a century, it has stood as a symbol of compassion, resilience, and enlightened care for society’s forgotten souls.
*Report by Art Historian and Educator Karla Darocas, B.A. (Hons)*
*Copyright SpainLifestyle.com 2018* (No part of this text or accompanying photos may be reproduced)
The name Fontilles is believed to derive from the many freshwater springs that flow abundantly through the valley. Fed by the El Penyó aquifer, these springs—most notably the El Castellet—supply the land and its inhabitants with life-sustaining water. The presence of this pure mountain water lends the area a sense of renewal, as if nature itself were part of the healing process.
Encircling the Fontilles Sanatorium is a 73 hectare expanse of untouched nature—rolling hills blanketed in dense foliage, winding paths under canopies of ancient trees, and scattered picnic spots where time seems to pause.
A stroll through the grounds is like wandering into a secret garden of contemplation. Stone statues emerge from the landscape, silently watching over grottos where cool spring water trickles into moss-lined pools. Here, among chirping birds and rustling leaves, one finds peace.
But behind this pastoral beauty lies a story of courage, tragedy, and humanitarian vision.
The origins of Fontilles trace back to 1902, when a Jesuit priest named Carlos Ferrís visited his friend, the lawyer Don Joaquín Ballester Lloret, in the village of Tormos. One evening, as they conversed, a haunting, anguished wail pierced the air from a nearby ruin. Ballester explained, with visible sorrow, that the cries came from a leprosy sufferer, abandoned and alone.
That moment changed everything.
Father Ferrís, shaken and deeply moved, soon learned of the widespread suffering caused by leprosy in the region. Entire villages had been affected.
In 1849, the small town of Parcent—just down the road—had recorded that 60 of its 800 residents were afflicted. A local physician in Pedreguer, writing in 1879, documented 74 cases between 1810 and 1879, with 57 known deaths. As early as 1851, primitive statistics counted 286 cases. By 1878, the number had climbed to 521. The disease was not just present—it was endemic.
The stigma of leprosy was devastating. Victims were not only disfigured by the illness but ostracized by society. They were often forced to live in rags along the roadsides, beneath bridges, or hidden away in caves. Some were only visited by family members to receive a bowl of water or a scrap of food. They were denied every human dignity—unseen and unloved.
As fate would have it, Father Ferrís himself contracted a mild form of the disease. Rather than succumb to despair, he transformed his personal suffering into an unshakable mission.
Alongside his loyal friend Ballester, he envisioned a place where leprosy patients would be treated with compassion, not condemnation. A sanctuary where they could live in dignity, receive medical care, and find community.
The pair began an ambitious campaign. Their vision included not only buildings for housing and treatment but also a massive stone wall encircling the property—a physical and symbolic gesture of both protection and sanctuary. The wall, three miles long, three meters high, and half a meter thick, was a feat of engineering and perseverance.
Yet not everyone supported this mission. Many politicians opposed the project, fearing contagion, cost, or challenging the status quo. It took seven long years of struggle before, on January 17, 1909, the gates of the *San Francisco de Borja Sanatorium Colony of Fontilles* finally opened. The first eight patients, once shunned by the world, were welcomed with open arms into a place of peace.
Fontilles continued to grow, both in purpose and prominence.
In 1931, during the rise of Spain’s Second Republic, the Society of Jesus was expelled amidst rising a resistance to clerical influence.
The state seized Fontilles, placing it under the authority of the National Health Board and renaming it the *National Sanatorium-Leprosarium*. Despite this upheaval, improvements continued: medical staff expanded, laboratories were modernized, and new programs were introduced.
Then came the Civil War (1936–1939). As the country descended into chaos, leprosy cases surged—spurred by poor hygiene, food shortages, population displacement, and the arrival of foreign troops from endemic areas.
When the war ended, the National Health Board returned Fontilles to its original trustees, and by 1941, the Jesuits resumed their role in its administration.
In 1947, Fontilles began offering specialized courses in the scientific study of leprosy to doctors and health workers across Spain and abroad, positioning itself as a leader in medical education. By 1968, the sanatorium had launched an outpatient program, allowing patients to live at home while receiving regular treatment at the facility.
In the 1990s, Fontilles extended its mission far beyond Spanish borders. With decades of experience, the organization began implementing health and solidarity programs in some of the world’s most affected countries. From Brazil and Nicaragua to India and Equatorial Guinea, Fontilles brought hope where it was needed most.
By 2002, Fontilles was managing projects in China, Colombia, Costa Rica, and more. And by 2005, it had achieved global recognition, contributing to international conferences and humanitarian forums. Its work now focused on three pillars: **Health, Solidarity, and Information**.
Today, Fontilles is considered one of the world’s foremost institutions for the study and treatment of leprosy. Each year, it welcomes over 70 healthcare professionals—doctors, nurses, missionaries, and social workers—who gather to learn, share, and continue the global fight against the disease.
It stands not just as a sanatorium, but as a beacon of knowledge, healing, and above all, humanity. Fontilles remains a testament to what can be achieved when compassion triumphs over fear.
