Transcription of The Basques: Telling the Tale

So we’re on the waterfront, right next to the ruins of the Auberge Magloire de l’Île, which is still better known as the haunted house of Trois-Pistoles. It is a renowned haunted house, it is well known and it is often in the top ten, even the top five of the most haunted places in Quebec.

I am Gabrielle Ayotte Garneau. I’ve been living in Trois-Pistoles for three years, almost to the day. I am very involved in my community.

I’m the director of the organization called Les Compagnons de la mise en valeur du patrimoine vivant de Trois-Pistoles, which is an organization that has been organizing Le Rendez vous des grandes gueules festival for twenty-four years now. It is a festival of tales and stories from the francophonie with artists from all over the world.

Trois-Pistoles is still recognized, among other things because of the festival. But also for its legends, its stories, there are many in the area. The legend of the haunted house is one that everyone knows. Everyone wants to come and try to get scared, give themselves a fright by coming to take a little walk around the haunted house in the evening.

In fact, the inn was built by a certain Magloire de l’Île who was a pilot with great originality since he named the inn in his name : Magloire de l’Île. Simple enough. And he built and maintained that inn there with his brothers.

So, because it was the St. Lawrence pilot lodge, Magloire de l’Île chose this location specifically for the view. You’re going to tell me he’s a contemplative, the landscape is beautiful, but in fact, it’s because with the river here, you can see ships arriving from afar.

Even if it was far from the road at the time, which was down the coast, it was a very logical choice to be able to see the ships arriving and thus prepare the pilots to take over on foreign boats.

So how did the Auberge de Magloire de l’Île get its hidden defect, which led to the sale of this little stone pearl at a low price to Mr. Nazaire Leclerc? It’s a story that involves drinking, of course. There was a concentration of sailors per square foot in here, and they drank a bit and raised their arms often and abundantly.

It resulted in some very big fights and one of these fights was memorable, not the reason for the fight as such… but one of those fights ended with the assassination, the murder, of a pilot who was stabbed.

And then reality hits, and our drunken pilots thought that it would be a good idea to go and bury the corpse in the cellar of the inn to camouflage their stupidity. The guys quietly sobered up while digging a hole for the unfortunate pilot who had lost his life.

And then, the next day, we don’t know if it was shame that made them lose their tongue or if they had just forgotten what had happened, but the rumour did not disperse throughout the parish. So the secret was well kept. Except that the victim was a believer and was saddened not to have had his piece of blessed land in a nearby cemetery.

He then decided to come out of his damp cellar and go haunt the inn in requisition for what he thought he was entitled to, that is to say a small plot in the cemetery, or at least a little Catholic something, a burial, a prayer, something.

And there, our roosters, instead of responding to the request of the dead, of the deceased, just started to desert the inn. There was a lot of noise, there was lights that went on, apparitions and all that, it wasn’t going well, it gave the inn a bad reputation.

Several years later, there are sensitive people who decide to try to find the remains of the deceased, murdered pilot, to bring them to blessed land. But they dug here in the house and never found anything. So either the De l’Île brothers took out the stiff bones to take them elsewhere, or Nazaire Leclerc’s dog found the jackpot in the basement.

Little is known about it, but there is nothing that has been found here and certainly that soul has never found peace because we still hear his complaints and his pleas, even today, when night falls, in the haunted house.