Known to occult enthusiasts as being the most haunted city in the Pacific Northwest, Victoria’s history is marked by a dark legacy of gruesome tales and paranormal activities.
Amid British Columbia’s lawless gold rush era, thousands of prospectors from California, Australia, Mexico, Europe, and as far away as China flocked to the capital city in 1857, hoping to strike it rich. As British colonial influence grew, trying to tame the isolated Wild West, an eerie mix of cultures, anarchy, violence, and chaos plagued Victoria’s street, giving rise to countless nightmarish tales.
“During those gold rush years, Victoria was a dangerous place full of murders, hangings, tragic accidents, and all of the kinds of things that give rise to ghosts,” said Chris Adams, co-owner of Discover the Past Tours and Ghostly Walks. “[Victoria] was also a British colonial capital, so there was this sense of British law and order which involved things like public hangings at the old jail in Bastion Square.”
Among these tales, few are as infamous as that of Chan, a young Chinese immigrant from the southern Guangdong Province, Adams explained.
Working as a bedmaker at the American Hotel near Bastion Square, Chan earned a meagre wage, sending a portion of it back to support his family in China. Despite the daily struggles, a glimmer of hope emerged when he fell in love with a woman who lived next door on Fisgard Street.
“He thought all he needed to do was ask her to marry him and that she would climb down from her window and they would live happily ever after. But it didn’t quite go according to plan,” said Adams. “When he proposed, she said no and began to laugh at him.”
When his love was unreciprocated, humiliation and shame loomed over Chan. Overtaken by rage, heartbroken and wounded in pride, he vowed to take a grim revenge.
“[He went] to the hotel where he was working, found a huge meat-slicing knife, hid it in his jacket and went back to Chinatown,” said Adams.
As he headed back to Chinatown, Chan summoned his friend's help to set his macabre plan in motion.
“As his friend reached up and grabbed the woman's hair and pulled her head out the window, Chan took the knife out of his jacket and chopped her head off,” said Adams. “Although there was silence for a moment, soon a crowd formed on the street and began to shout and point at him.”
In a split second, rage gave way to adrenaline, and Chan bolted from the crime scene. With a vengeful crowd on his heels, he anxiously scanned for the closest escape. Spotting Fan Tan Alley coming up, he ducked into the narrow, crowded path, knocking people aside as he tried to lose his pursuers.
Having narrowly evaded the angry mob, with only moments to spare, Chan made the desperate choice to hide at the American Hotel – a foolish move that would soon seal his fate.
Soon, lawmen and the crowd found him as they stormed the hotel.
“Once the police found him, they pulled him out into the daylight and he was still covered in blood so they knew they had their man,” said Adams.
That same day, the young killer was taken to the Hillside Jail where he promptly hung himself in his cell.
“Following his suicide, there was no special ceremony. Nothing,” said Adams. “They just dug a shallow grave and chucked him in.”
Yet, Adams said this is exactly what led to Chan’s haunting legacy.
As people arrived from various parts of the world, they brought their own set of beliefs about ghosts and death. For Europeans, sudden deaths, particularly tragic ones like murders or suicides, were thought to be prime causes of ghostly activity. In some other cultures, however, burial practices were seen as crucial. Whether a person was laid to rest properly, or not, often determined if they would transit peacefully to the afterlife or return as a ghost.
“When people in Chinatown found out that Chan had been buried like that, without any proper ceremony, they were horrified because they knew this meant he would come back and linger on as a dangerous ghost,” said Adams.
Shortly after, Chan’s ghostly presence became undeniable. Many reported feeling a strange rush of cold wind or hearing hurried footsteps echoing through Fan Tan Alley.
“Some people even [reported] seeing a young man running through the alleyway, pushing people out of the way,” said Adams. “We always know who they're talking about because they tell us that he is covered in blood.”
Nestled in the heart of Fan Tan Alley is the Victoria Chinatown Museum. Upon entering, visitors may be welcomed by museum manager Charlayne Thornton-Joe. Although she is familiar with Chan's story, she admits that she has never felt his presence or had any unpleasant interactions with him. However, she has witnessed “all sorts of weird things” during her years working there.
“There was one time I felt someone touching me on the shoulder,” she said. “There was one day when some cups had fallen off from the shelf and we didn't know how that happened.”
From firecrackers mysteriously moved from their display to lights flickering in the night, Thornton-Joe described sensing a heightened spiritual presence in the area – an experience shared and sought by many.
“I did have a paranormal investigator come in because our cameras [have captured] orbs and I knew nothing about them before,” she said. “Some are very obvious dust particles or bugs, but there are some that are stranger. They just fly upwards very sharply.
“The paranormal investigator said there's definitely energy but it's not a negative. I was told that they are just spirits and they don't mean any harm.”
Thornton-Joe concluded that this strong paranormal presence is likely entwined with Chinatown's grisly history, where many met a violent end. Another theory links it to the improper burials of Chinese immigrants at Ross Bay Cemetery, near today’s Dallas Road. Laid to rest in a section designated for “Mongolians and Aborigines,” these graves were alarmingly close to the water. With each storm that battered Victoria’s coastline, the raging waters claimed their bodies, dragging them into the depths, never to be seen again.
While Adams noted that most ghosts wandering the streets of Victoria are harmless, some may carry darker intentions. Among these is the lingering spectre of Chan, who continues to haunt the city as he frantically paces between the site of his crime and the place where he took his own life, tormenting unsuspecting pedestrians and dismissive businesses along the way.
“If he's displeased, he makes it known,” Adams said. “[Some restaurants] leave out little offerings for him as should have been done at his burial. When they do that, he [remains] calm. But restaurants that paid no attention to this or perhaps were skeptical… were eventually deeply affected by Chan's presence.”
