The Glowing Man ( Adam Maxwell-Farquhar - Tale 4)

After my experiences in France, I returned to Aberdeen, and being somewhat distressed by my experiences there, I was deemed to be ‘distressed’ by the Great War, and was advised by my physician Dr McHardy, to step back from being a clergyman for a year or so, to allow myself time to recover.

I returned to the Maberly Street area of the city where I rented a spacious tenement flat, where I would spend more time among my books, and write some memoirs, investigate some malevolent spirits, and hauntings.

My flat, as I said was spacious, but the room at the back of the building was always cold, even in the blistering heat of Summer. I suspected a malevolent spirit, and I was not wrong.

Mr Mitchell, the owner of the building said that the spirit that haunted the room was that of a man who had drowned in the Loch of Aberdeen which had been in this area five hundred years prior to our own time. Some of the earliest settlers in the city were hunter-gatherers who had set up home by the loch, and built up their own settlements, which became the district of the Loch lands, hardworking individuals who drew their living from fishing and weaving, and from the fertile land which blessed them with crops with each successive year.

As time passed, the loch was drained and new tenement housing was built on its site, commemorated by the street names, Loch Street for example, which was not a stone’s throw from where I now stood.

Mitchell told me that he heard many stories of Aberdeen’s history over the years, so he was aware of the loch and was well versed in the evolution of Aberdeen as a city over the years.

He advised that there had been wet footprints leading up to the second floor of the tenement, and that on nights when rain had not fallen, that was one for future investigations.

Mitchell was a real repository of the facts and folklore of the city and its people, and in years to come would provide me with the assistance I needed in my new vocation, his collection of books on ancient lore and arcane facts were second to none, all piled high in his garret rooms in the self-same building.

In time, Mitchell would become my companion on my ghost hunting, exorcisms, and the like, but the first of our investigations was into a haunting in a house in Aberdeen, locals had been alarmed in the Rosemount area of the Granite City, returning from a local tavern, a Mr Rowley, somewhat worse for wear, had seen what he described as a ‘glowing man’ standing in the stairwell of the building.

One dreich November night , All Souls Day, if I remember correctly. I had been drowsing over a pint of dark ale, thinking about the souls of the faithful departed, when I happened upon Mitchell in Ma Cameron’s , and this was the night we would investigate, or least come across the ‘Glowing Man.’

‘I’ve heard the tale o’ Rowley and the Glowing Man’, it’s nae far awa’ fae this place’, said Mitchell, but first ye’ll hae to jine me in a glass of the uisge beatha’ said Mitchell, in his broad Aberdonian accent, though I would question his pronunciation of the fiery spirit we were drinking. Once we had drained our glasses, we were off out into the mist, and trudging our way uphill towards Rosemount , where Rowley resided. John Rowley was a man who was a gravedigger in one of the local cemeteries, so he would be no stranger to strange phenomena, spirits, ghosts, in his line of work. In my days in the ministry, I also encountered some unusual things, good, of divine origin, and evil spirits, which inhabited some of the old and unoccupied buildings of our fair city.

On arrival at the building in which Rowley resided, in Wallfield Place, we entered the building to find it in darkness. He was resident at the top floor, and the gas light was clearly not in operation. We faltered our way through the darkness, to find that Rowley’s door was wide open, and he was nowhere to be found. It was a spartan flat with a candle burning in one room, in what looked to be a church candlestick, a chair and table, and a threadbare mattress lay on the bare floorboards that served as his living quarters. The room then lit up with a wavering blue light, and the flames or what appeared to be flames formed into the shape of a figure, that of a man, perchance a ‘fire spirit,’ like a Djinn, or something similar, Mitchell would know.

‘Spontaneous human combustion!’ exclaimed Mitchell.

 Mitchell said that Charles Dickens had referenced this in his novel ‘Bleak House,’ which I must admit , I had not read, though I did like his ghost stories, especially ‘The Signalman.’ The apparition glowed and shimmered for a few minutes, and ignited briefly, and burned itself out, leaving charred remains on the floorboards, but strangely not burning anything else within the room.

A cry came from the other room in flat, it was Rowley, looking unshaven and somewhat dishevelled , he was clearly disturbed by the incident, and crossed himself when he saw he with my priest’s robe and dog collar.

‘So, Faither , ye’ve got rid of the Glowing Man!’ I’ve nae idea fa’ he wis, but he has been in this place for ages,’ said Rowley.

Neither Mitchell nor I were sure if this was a case of Spontaneous Human Combustion, or if it was just a common or garden haunting, as with the one I referenced earlier in my story.

Once we had tidied things up in his abode, Rowley was seen by a local physician, Douglas McBain, and was sent to the local psychiatric asylum for treatment, as he was ‘severely distressed’ by the episode.

This was just the first of many weird and wonderful investigations that Mitchell and I would undertake in my time away from the church.