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The Ghost of Hammersmith

And the Death of Thomas Millwood

By Jeffrey SparksPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 1 min read
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The Ghost of Hammersmith
Photo by Tom Rogers on Unsplash

Our story begins with the death of the locksmith’s pregnant wife. Sadly, she was the first one to go.

But in this town near London, she wasn’t the only one who proclaimed to have seen an apparition float.

Later, a brewer named Thomas Grooms decreed of the ghost which grabbed him by the throat.

But then again, he was a brewer perhaps drunk on his own spirits for all that we know.

Locals speculated a suicide victim with unfinished business was the possible cause.

With few police available, vigilant citizens made the decision to take first watch.

That night, Francis Smith was one of the citizens placed on high alert.

But this was not surprising due to the recent sighting near the yard of the church.

So, Mr. Smith held his shotgun close to his chest, determined he could put rumors to rest.

And just before midnight, he would take that one fateful shot.

But his victim was not a phantom, rather a human, in the wrong spot.

Dressed in all white, Thomas Millwood, a 23-year-old bricklayer, was wearing the clothes of his trade.

Mistaken for a ghost, having just visited his sister on Black Lion Lane.

Mr. Millwood would later pronounced dead after being shot in the jaw.

No one predicting the beneficial legal ramifications of this case on future laws.

Turns out, it was a shoemaker named Graham who confessed to being dressed as the ghost.

Indeed, a tragic ending for Thomas and the locksmith's wife, but alas, that's how it goes.

And that's the story of the Ghost of Hammersmith and how it concludes.

When a little town in 1803, thought it was haunted, with no idea what to do.

**If I may add this author’s opinion, this could have been prevented, if they sought the help of Scooby Doo's crew.**

fact or fiction
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About the Creator

Jeffrey Sparks

Adversity is kindling I choose to burn to keep my hands warm in winter ensuring my words will stretch beyond the years that turn my bones to dust.

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