QUEBECOIS GHOULS THAT WALK IN THE NIGHT
By Margaret Deefholts
(For Travel Writers' Tales )

Old Quebec City

I am all a-shiver. It's late October—the time of year when spirits lurk in lonely alleyways, mouldering graveyards and ruins of deserted mansions.

Ghost Tours Quebec's Jonathan Black

Along with other seekers after the macabre, I listen to a man wearing a flowing cloak, his eyes shadowed under the brim of a top hat. His name, appropriately enough, is Jonathan Black, and he will lead us by the light of his lantern through the foggy gloom of this very dark and stormy night in Old Quebec City to revisit scenes of bizarre murders, executions and torture.

Jonathan Black and his lantern

Umbrellas aloft against a chilly drizzle, we stand in historic Place Royal, which Mr. Black tells us had been the scene of grisly occurrences as far back as the 1700s. “Murderers and thieves swung by the neck here,” he intones, “and this is where a ruthless hangman even went so far as to execute his own wife!” A flash of lightning followed by a crackle of thunder adds a fine touch of melodrama to his story.

Jonathan Black at the scene of the sinking of the
Empress of Ireland in the St. Lawrence River

We huddle a little closer together when we re-group alongside the mist-shrouded St. Lawrence River. According to our guide we are now looking at a scene of terrible tragedy—the sinking of The Empress of Ireland, which went down on a foggy night such as this one. “But it was no ordinary fog,” says Mr. Black ominously. “Because no sooner had the ship sunk into the depths of the river, when the mists cleared away completely. You see, Captain Kendall the ship's skipper had been cursed by the notorious English murderer Dr. Crippen when he was handed over to the police. Standing at this very spot Crippen had glared at the captain and snarled: “You sir...you shall pay for this treachery!”

We walk on, stopping from time to time to listen to Mr. Black and his treasure trove of supernatural yarns, but by the time I trudge up the steep cobbled road to Upper Quebec, the chills running down my spine have nothing to do with ghostly apparitions. We are now in a torrential downpour, and a howling wind, has driven icy rivulets down my back. So, even though it is reputed to be one of the most haunted buildings in Quebec, I'm relieved to take refuge in the cold, dimly lit, but mercifully dry, Anglican Cathedral of the Holy Trinity. We don't meet the resident narcoleptic woman who was apparently buried alive here, nor the poor wraith who mourns her dead baby, but the tales are eerie enough for me to avoid peering too closely into the shadowy corners of the naves.

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Old Montreal City

A few days later, I go in search of the spectral inhabitants of Old Montreal. As it turns out they are a far more aggressive bunch than those lurking in Quebec city. I join a group on a New France, Ghost Hunt Walk, and our first “apparition” lurches out of the darkness near Place Jacques Cartier. She is a very drunken Mary Gallagher, brandishing a wine bottle in one hand, and peering closely and with unnerving intensity at each of us in turn. Her eyes are on fire and she has a bloody gash across her neck

Blood streaked ghost of Mary Gallagher, Montreal Ghost Walk

Mary's murder was gory. She and her so-called friend Susan were entertaining a gorgeous looking Irish guy, Michael Flanagan in Susan's apartment. All three had drained several bottles of booze, when Susan, enraged by his attentions to Mary, picked up an axe and in a fit of jealousy, hacked her girlfriend to death!

On hearing this, a young Japanese girl standing near me, shrinks in horror against her boyfriend.

Villainous Pierre Lefebvre, Montreal Ghost Walk

She is even more aghast at our next ghost. He is Pierre Lefebvre who died back in 1735 as a result of vicious torture in the hands of an arbitrary judicial system in New France. He glares at us, hisses and screams with fury while recounting the injustice of life. This just about causes the young Japanese visitor, to pass out in terror, and her boyfriend smiles at us sheepishly while laying a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

Japanese Girl, horrified by Pierre Lefebvre

As we file out hurriedly to our next appointment, Lefebvre follows us, yelling and shaking his fist.

Ghost of Nicholas Vallières, Montreal Ghost Walk

Fortunately our next two ghosts are docile characters. Paul Chomedey, Sieur de Maisonneuve, the co-founder of the city of Montreal is a harmless braggart who merely boasts about his accomplishments. Our final encounter is with Nicholas Vallières an amiable soul who was a go-between the fur trading colonists and the Iroquois Indians in the 17 th century.

As Valli è res fades away into the darkness, we leave the dead behind and return to Place Jacques Cartier, where the living are enjoying a brisk Saturday night. At ten o'clock the place is buzzing with street musicians, lovers strolling hand in hand, and sounds of merriment floating out from night-clubs. We drop into a pub where the only spirits we encounter are those we pour out of a bottle.

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Information: http://www.ghosttoursofquebec.com/?lang=en

  PHOTOS : by Margaret Deefholts