'Emails' from Mol's laptop - remote working
These Emails were written by Mol Smith to friends and associates during the week October 15th 1999 to October 22nd 1999.They form a 'field-record' of events which took place near Chelsham, on the Surrey, Kent, borders - England. Not all were received. I have indicated those emails written, and found on the recovered lap-top, which Mol was unable to send due to exhausted power supplies. Where he mentions digital 'stills' or 'video', I have linked to these from the email accounts! 
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Day 6 (Retrieved)
October 20th 1999
Day 6 -  Wednesday  - October 20th  1999 - 9.00 am 
To friends.  

Mercifully, we have had a quiet night. There was a storm. At first I had thought 
the sudden sway of the trees and the rush of air heralded more chaos... but it was just 
a storm. 

Vanessa has improved. She is bruised but has no recollection of the events yesterday. 
I have told her very little - what can I say to her? 

Larry did not come back. Now I have slept, a touch of optimism is restored. Maybe, 
he too, rested at the pub or  - confused in the darkness - waited in the forest until daylight 
before going on. The storm has cleared the mist and the wood seems tranquil and friendly. 

I am more confident Larry will be back this morning. Vanessa has gone down to the stream 
to wash herself. I have told her a lie. I said the camp was over-run with horses, and in the  
panic, we had run and she had fallen.  She keeps asking where Larry is. I told her he  
had gone to fetch fresh supplies and will be back later. I suspect she doesn't quite believe 
me. I hate to lie, but to worry her further with astounding and terrifying truth would do little 
good for her or our situation. 

While she is gone, I must write some more about this place and its history.  

There was a woman - quite beautiful by all accounts - but one who was to suffer a lonely 
and tragic life. She was born, the daughter of Thomas Blakelocke - the proprietor of  
The White Bear Inn, not far from the village of Chelsham, in 1597 .  

The book of Larry's,  I hold now in my hand as I tap, tap, tap, away on this faithful  
lap-top, records that in 1615, the Inn was almost completely destroyed by fire -  
an accident according to the local Judge at subsequent proceedings, but one which  
changed the fortunes of Sarah Blakelocke: her parents were killed in the fire. 

Sarah escaped  - but not without harm: she emerged from the burning  
Inn - blind in both eyes! Physicians of the day could find no damage to her  
eyes or her body as a result of the fire and no cause for her blindness. 

I guess today we would surmise her sudden blindness was caused by shock - 
but the ignorance of people during this period was at its highest. Gossip  
amongst the locals,  inflamed by country-wide 'witch-hunts', spread and  
grew - until it was rumoured that her blindness was caused because  
she had seen the devil within the raging fire - that the Devil had 
fallen for her  beauty so much - that he'd spared her 
from the flames but blinded her "... so that she might more appreciate 
his work and come to love the darkness." 

The Inn was repaired and sold. Her parents had many debts and she was left 
with only a moderate sum. It seems she remained alone and isolated  
thereafter, for many years, in a small cottage several miles from the Inn. 

The fact that her cottage lay on the road where many 'inebriated' men would 
pass at night, probably helped her little with the weary and  suspicious 
women-folk - and their developing resentment for the 'imagined' infidelity of 
their husbands, whenever they tarried too long at the Inn. 

Over the years, Sarah's few visitors were from the clergy in attendance at  
St. Mary's Church, and a local doctor, a close friend of her deceased parents.  
The book goes on to mention that she had an uneasy peace of sorts, "...learning 
to read Latin by touch of the written word upon the page...",  and probably  
through help and guidance of the good Doctor. 

Vanessa has just come back to the tent. She is extremely  distressed... 
I must go! 

(More later) 

Day 6 -  Wednesday  - October 20th  1999 - 11.00 am 
To friends.  

A tough two hours.  Vanessa had a very big reason for being so upset - 
several, in fact: she was covered with leeches from the stream. I find this  
odd. They are medicinal leeches - which to my knowledge - are only now 
'farmed' in secret locations in the New Forest. Odder still that no leeches  
were apparent all week in our previous 'bathing' visits to the stream.  
It is - I suspect - connected to the incident at the bank last night, for 
I am now convinced that extraordinary forces are at work in this wood. 

I have removed five leeches from her. There is no lasting damage and 
they disgorged of their own accord once they had filled with blood. Vanessa 
reacted well under the circumstances. She has gone to collect her clothes, 
left in panic at the stream.  

The weather is starting to turn cold and bleak again. When Vanessa returns, 
we are leaving. Larry has still not appeared and I fear if we don't go 
now, we will miss a chance to be out of the woods while the weather  
holds out and the mists gone. 

I will try and tap, tap, tap quickly and finish passing you the data I read 
from Larry's books. I think they are quite rare so it may be difficult to 
find this information in other historic records;  much of it, according to 
the author, has been suppressed! 

In 1640, one of the local village men - Jack Higgins, dropped dead (probably  
due to heart failure). The problem was he decided to do it on his way home 
from The White Bear, where late one night... probably full of drink and  
suddenly confronted with pains in his chest, he collapsed and died at the  
gate of Sarah's cottage. 

To cut a long story short, the distressed wife of  Mr. Higgins, blamed  
all on Sarah... accusing her of a long running affair with her husband (where, 
I think, a fairer observation might  be that poor Jack had a life-long love-affair  
with booze). Mrs Higgins, not content with this, also accused Sarah of  killing him  
by "...snaring his heart and stilling it!" 

The cries of 'witch' sounded loudly at the funeral of Jack Higgins... and louder 
still at the 'wake' in The White Lion Inn on October 22nd 1640. A unruly bunch of 
men and women - fuelled on ale, mead, and cider - that night came down the  
path at midnight to Sarah's cottage intent on murder. 

What a noise they must have made coming down that quiet lane. 
Sarah heard them a good way off and fled the cottage towards  
the woods - the one place where she knew the villagers, now in excited pursuit,  
dare not follow.  

Vanessa is back. We are leaving this evil place at last... 


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