Cassandra Latham
An Interview with Cassandra
Home - news - my services - Mab's Pages - interviews - afternoon walks - links - contact
Bedpans to broomsticks - Words Martin Jackson - Photographs George Wright
Cassandra Latham trained as a nurse, but misfortune and a chance encounter showed her a quite different way to use her healing powers. An Interview by The Express on Sunday Magazine
When Cassandra Latham fills in her next tax return it’ll be interesting to see how the revenue inspectors react to her expenses claims. Petrol, stationary, accountant’s fees, no problem; but candles, incense and magic books? They’ll quibble at their peril, though, because Cassandra – as her business card announces – is a witch.
For the professional, up – to – the minute witch, irksome details such as tax returns and business cards are a fact of life: ‘I’m part of the service industries,’ she says. But traditionalists need not be disappointed. Her home, ‘The Doll’s House’ (it’s about that size), lies down a narrow alley just a rune’s cast from the church in St Buryan, near Penzance. A village surrounded by ancient pagan sites, this was the location for the notorious Seventies film Straw Dogs.
You can’t do what I do without getting you leg pulled occasionally.’ Strangest of all is the pair of crow’s feet hanging from a blackened beam. ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to use them for, but they’re just one of those things that might come in handy.’
Magpie claws already have: one of her clients is a local shopkeeper who asked her to help combat a spate of shoplifting. She devised a charm to hang in the shop. ‘I attached the magpie’s feet representing thievery, to a cross of rowan, which is an ancient symbol of protection. I surrounded them with a circle of ivy wrapped with lead, both of which have restrictive qualities.
‘At an appropriate time on an appropriate day, I charged it with the appropriate energies. I saw the man a few weeks later and he said it was working, well…like a charm.’
Cassandra had already discovered ‘The Craft’ after a chance meeting with two witches in the early Eighties. ‘I was a bit nervous at first – I grew up with the same propaganda as everyone else: Dennis Wheatley, scare stories in the papers and so on. But what attracted me was the strong female role, and the fact that paganism doesn’t knock other beliefs.’ For years, Cassandra quietly studied and practised. But in 1996 she decided to do some voluntary work, and approached the senior chaplain at Truro’s Treliske Hospital, offering herself as a pagan counsellor.
He accepted, a snippet appeared in the local newspaper, and within days Cassandra was besieged by reporters and camera crews. She turned down requests to share a sofa with Richard and Judy. ‘I hadn’t anticipated the publicity, and while I realised I couldn’t push the toothpaste back into the tube, I wasn’t going to be turned into a circus act.’
Cassandra took a restart course for the long-term jobless: once the tutor accepted she wasn’t pulling his leg by listing tarot–reading and spell–casting among her ‘transferable skills’, he suggested self-employment. So she turned professional, offering magic to help people change jobs, pass driving tests, find lost objects, clear houses of bad energies; and compiling a spell database on her computer.
Cassandra defines witchcraft as harnessing willpower and the spirits of nature to effect change. She is vague on details of the rituals – but then again, they are the original trade secrets. ‘Most of my work is counselling, but with an unorthodox twist. People come to me with physical or psychological symptoms; that feel they always have had bad luck, or perhaps they are making no headway professionally. I talk them through it, and then do a tarot-reading to divine the root cause. Often there is an event, maybe back in childhood, that has given them a lack of self-esteem. I try to remove these blocks. For instance, there is a rite of release for people who haven’t got over bereavement or the end of a relationship. You take a ceramic pot and help the client pile in all their negative feelings. At the emotional peak of the ritual - bang – you smash it.’
‘It is very rare that the moment when the client is there is the best time to work the spell. It depends on the phases of the moon, the energies involved, the most propitious day. I take a contact item from the client to represent them – either hair or nail clippings are very powerful and contain the essence of the person – and at the right time I will let them know so they can link in with their own energy, expect the change – and it happens.’
Cassandra works with herbs, wood, and other natural materials, but adds: ‘Unlike a charm that sits there working away, a spell may not involve a concrete thing; often it may be a candle prepared or written on in a particular way, so physically all you end up with is a blob of wax. Spells are a way of changing patterns. It is all about intent, rather than how you wave your arms about, what you wear or say.’
Cassandra is aware that, to some people, witchcraft is still a sinister business. ‘When any culture takes over another, it tends to demonise what was there before, and that happened when Britain was converted to Christianity. But pagan belief never went away, it just went underground. There is a tradition in villages of ‘cunning folk’, or ‘wise women’. I’m just continuing that.
‘We are all a bit more enlightened now; in fact I get on very well with the vicar here. We recognise that we are both doing a kind of pastoral work. People confuse witchcraft with Satanism, but that’s the reverse of Christianity. I’m a pagan, not a devil-worshipper. The power is absolutely neutral; it is the operator who colours it, and the great majority of people who work with witchcraft are healers. Of course, it does attract a loony fringe, but so does every belief.’
![]() |
The wild west of Cornwall has long been a pagan stronghold,
and Cassandra says there’s a network of witches throughout the area. ‘I
tend to work on my own although I know how to do all the ceremonial stuff,
and it’s great fun to get out the dressing-up box and swan around as a
goddess. But I’m usually just plodding about in my wellies.’
‘It’s just a question of personal taste. A lot of people are into getting their kit off, but frankly, that’s not for me. It’s hard to do magic with goose-bumps.’ [back to top] |
| Cassandra Latham, The Dolls House, Churchtown, St Buryan, Penzance, Cornwall, TR19 6DS England Email : Cassandra Latham | ![]() |
Copyright cassandra latham 2001 - 2007