When you hear the phrase “top 10 loneliest,” you probably picture modern isolation, but history is packed with individuals who took solitude to extremes—some by choice, others by cruel fate. Below we count down ten of the most isolated souls ever documented, each with a story that’s as fascinating as it is heartbreaking.
10 Simeon Stylites
Modern saints are often celebrated for their outreach and community work, yet early Christian martyrdom looked very different. In the ancient world, sanctity could mean shunning the world entirely. Simeon Stylites took this to the literal extreme: he spent decades perched atop a towering pillar, seeking divine communion far above the crowds.
According to tradition, a youthful vision urged him to construct a tall column—‘stylos’ in Greek—to distance himself from earthly temptations. After an initial stint in a monastery, where his habit of binding a rope tightly around his waist caused his flesh to decay and offend his fellow monks, he was expelled. He then tried hermitage on a mountain, but pilgrims soon gathered, eager to glimpse the holy man.
To escape the throngs, Simeon erected a pillar and lived atop it for 36 years, continually raising its height to keep people below at bay. Even as crowds grew more fascinated, he kept climbing higher until his death, after which he was immediately proclaimed a saint.
9 Blanche Monnier
Blanche Monnier never set out to become a recluse. Born into a well‑off French family in 1849, she possessed both wealth and beauty—assets that should have promised a comfortable life. Instead, a tyrannical mother turned her existence into a nightmare. In 1874, when Blanche, then 25, announced plans to marry a modest lawyer, her mother disapproved and locked her away in a cramped attic room.
Madame Monnier apparently believed that forced isolation would make Blanche reconsider her choice, but the young woman never relented. Over the next 25 years, Blanche endured squalor, starvation, and neglect, while her mother and brother carried on with normal lives above her hidden cell.
In 1901, an anonymous tip alerted authorities, prompting a raid that revealed a horrific scene: a naked woman on a rotten straw mattress, surrounded by a crust of excrement, decayed food, oyster shells, and crawling insects. The stench was so overpowering that investigators could barely remain in the room. Rescued but gravely weakened, Blanche weighed barely 55 pounds (25 kg) and never fully recovered, passing away in a hospital in 1913.
8 Julian of Norwich
Not every tale of isolation involves walls of stone or towering pillars; some are quieter, more contemplative. Julian of Norwich, a 14th‑century mystic, practiced a form of voluntary seclusion that modern health officials might actually applaud during a pandemic. She chose to become an anchorite—a religious recluse—by having a small cell constructed adjoining a church, then being permanently sealed within.
The anchorite rite resembled a funeral service, symbolically declaring the individual “dead to the world.” A tiny hatch allowed Julian to receive communion, see the altar, and accept food, while also permitting visitors to speak to her through a narrow opening.
In 1413, the famed mystic Margery Kempe sought Julian’s counsel, describing an encounter where she was “charged by our Lord to go to an anchoress… and many wonderful revelations which she revealed to the anchoress.” Both women left indelible marks on English literature: Margery authored what is often called the first autobiographical English text, while Julian became the earliest surviving English female author. Her most comforting divine message—“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well”—still resonates today.
7 Robert Falcon Scott (maybe)
By the early 20th century, most of Earth’s surface had been charted, yet blank spots still existed on the map, sparking a fever for exploration. British officer Robert Falcon Scott—better known as Scott of the Antarctic—embarked on daring missions that would test human endurance and, ultimately, solitude.
His first Antarctic venture pushed his team farther south than any before them. The second expedition aimed for the South Pole, only to discover that Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen had beaten them there by five weeks. In his diary, Scott recorded the crushing realization: “Great God! This is an awful place.”
On the return trek, one teammate collapsed and died. Captain Lawrence Oates, feeling he was slowing the group, famously stepped out into the blizzard, uttering the understated “I am just going outside and may be some time.” The remaining men pressed on, but relentless weather forced them to stop just 12 miles from a supply depot. The final survivor’s diary ends with a desperate plea: “Last entry. For God’s sake look after our people.”
6 Unknown Amazon Indian
In 1996, Brazilian officials learned of a solitary Amazonian man living deep within the rainforest. While many indigenous tribes inhabit the Amazon, this individual stood out: he seemed to be the last surviving member of an otherwise extinct group.
Researchers uncovered a cluster of fourteen huts, each featuring a distinct rectangular pit dug into the floor—an architectural trait never before observed among neighboring peoples. The pattern suggested a single individual maintaining multiple shelters, moving from one to another whenever loggers encroached.
Attempts to make contact resulted in the man firing an arrow at an intruder, underscoring his resolve to remain unseen. Brazilian policy respects the autonomy of uncontacted tribes, so no forced interaction occurred. Video footage confirms his continued solitary existence, hinting that he may remain the lone sentinel of his vanished culture.
5 Fernão Lopes
Fernão Lopes, a 16th‑century Portuguese soldier, led a life marked by violence, betrayal, and ultimate isolation. After participating in the conquest of Goa, he was left in charge of a garrison that soon faced rebellion. Lopes married a local woman and converted to Islam, actions that incited brutal retaliation from a subsequent Portuguese force.
During the reprisals, Lopes suffered horrific mutilations: his nose, ears, right arm, and left thumb were all hacked off. Although offered a royal pardon, he fled aboard a ship bound for the remote island of Saint Helena in the middle of the Atlantic.
Saint Helena was uninhabited at the time, visited only occasionally by passing vessels for fresh water. Lopes took refuge in a small cave, evading ships that sailed nearby. One crew inadvertently discovered his hideaway, leading to an unexpected companionship: a stray cockerel that had fallen overboard. Lopes rescued the bird, fed it rice from the ship’s provisions, and the chicken became his faithful companion, following him around the desolate island.
After a decade of solitary existence, Lopes returned to Europe, where the Pope granted him forgiveness for his conversion to Islam and fulfilled his wish to revisit Saint Helena. He spent another twenty years there, dying alone on the island.
4 Marguerite de la Rocque
Marooning on a place called “The Isle of Demons” sounds like a horror‑film setup, yet 16th‑century French noblewoman Marguerite de la Rocque endured exactly that fate. She co‑owned extensive lands with a relative, Jean‑François de Roberval, who later became governor of New France (modern‑day Canada). When Roberval set sail for the New World, he brought Marguerite along.
Upon arrival, Marguerite was abandoned on the mysterious island. Some accounts claim Roberval acted out of scandal—she had become pregnant by a fellow passenger—while others suggest he wanted sole control over their shared holdings. Regardless, Marguerite, her lover, and a maid were left to fend for themselves.
Tragedy struck swiftly: the man, the maid, and later Marguerite’s infant all perished. Miraculously, Marguerite survived, enduring two years of hardship before fishermen rescued her, returning her to France. Roberval faced no legal repercussions for his abandonment; however, he later met a violent end, beaten to death by a mob angered by his Protestant faith.
3 Tom Neale
Most castaways find themselves stranded after shipwrecks or mutinies, but Tom Neale deliberately pursued isolation. After a lengthy naval career cruising the Pacific, Neale learned of Suwarrow, an uninhabited atoll that beckoned adventurers.
In 1952, he convinced a passing vessel to drop him, his supplies, and two cats onto the atoll. Local islanders, impressed by his resolve, offered equipment and occasional assistance. Several women proposed joining him, but Neale politely declined, preferring solitude.
He settled on Suwarrow for several years, but a severe back injury forced him to seek medical care on the mainland. He returned, only to find pearl divers visiting the island, eroding his sense of isolation. He explained his departure by saying, “I realized I was getting on, and the prospect of the lonely death did not particularly appeal to me.” In 1967, he went back to Suwarrow, living alone for another ten years until stomach cancer claimed his life.
2 Thomas Silverstein
Solitary confinement can serve as protection, punishment, or a coercive tool to enforce compliance. Thomas Silverstein became a notorious figure in the American penal system, spending the final 36 years of his life locked away alone.
Initially imprisoned for a modest robbery, Silverstein quickly became entangled with the Aryan Brotherhood, participating in inmate murders that earned him additional life sentences. After killing a corrections officer, he was placed in solitary confinement with a directive of “no human contact.” He endured years in a windowless underground cell, a situation that persisted until a prison riot briefly freed him.
After order was restored, Silverstein was returned to solitary confinement, this time with a minimal exercise area. Legal challenges argued his treatment was unconstitutional, but courts upheld the practice, noting that other inmates faced similar conditions. He died in 2019, long before his projected release date of 2095.
1 Alfred Worden
With over 7.5 billion people sharing this planet, true isolation seems impossible—until you venture into space. While most astronauts remain close to Earth, Alfred Worden achieved an unprecedented level of solitude during the Apollo 15 mission.
While his crewmates, David Scott and James Irwin, walked on the lunar surface, Worden stayed aboard the command module, orbiting the Moon. At the far side of the Moon, he was a staggering 2,235 miles (3,600 km) away from his teammates and roughly 240,000 miles (390,000 km) from everyone else on Earth.
During this period, the Moon blocked all radio communications, leaving Worden utterly alone. He later reflected, “I was alone but I was not lonely. My background as a fighter pilot and test pilot meant I was used to being by myself. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn’t have to talk to Dave and Jim any more… On the backside of the Moon, I didn’t even have to talk to Houston and that was the best part of the flight.”
These ten stories illustrate the many ways humanity has grappled with extreme isolation—whether by faith, punishment, adventure, or circumstance. Each tale reminds us that even in the most solitary of settings, the human spirit can endure, reflect, and sometimes even thrive.