Under America's Spell

Bucket? Check. Spade? Check. Wand? Wait, what?

When you think of a quaint Cornish seaside village, what is the first thing that springs to mind? It’s probably not broomsticks and hexes. But that’s exactly what I found in the sleepy harbour of Boscastle, whilst out exploring with my girlfriend on a blazing June afternoon. The Witchcraft Museum, housed in an unassuming cottage which could easily be mistaken for a pub, has been a haven for pagan history for over 50 years. Initially opened by occultist Cecil Williamson in 1951, it moved down to Cornwall from the Isle of Wight in 1960. On the windswept Northern coast close to Tintagel, the town with a cave supposedly occupied by Merlin, and Bude, home to ghostly shipwrecks and Tarot artist Pamela Colman Smith, the Museum isn’t as out of place as it might first appear, despite the multiple pentagrams on its walls.

After we had paused to admire the witch silhouette painted on the door (and taken photos, for posterity and Instagram), we stepped inside and were swallowed by shadows. As our eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, we started to make our way through the labyrinthine corridors lined with arcane artefacts. We read about seasonal festivals and customs, the healing properties of plants and even saw a reconstruction of a wise woman’s cottage, filled with hagstones, herbs and a dozing feline familiar. The walls were covered in witch related posters, gleaming athames and amulets; at every turn we learnt something new about this ancient craft.

Once we had gingerly ascended the steep staircase, the atmosphere changed dramatically. After reading about curative rituals, the subject matter took a murkier turn. Remnants of curses, pin-skewered wax poppets and mummified cats loomed. Goat-headed robed figures gazed coolly at us as we edged our way past a dunking chair and hastily made our way to the exit. I couldn’t help but shiver at the thrumming energy of that room; a feeling of mischief verging on malevolence hung in the air, suggesting unfinished - and unexplained - business.

With such a spooky mix of objects, I can understand why Boscastle villagers were wary of the Museum when it first relocated to the coast. But the Museum isn't scary, it's a testament to the tenacity of people and their faith in nature. Just as practising witches have survived stigma, the Museum has survived fire bombings, an extensive flood and local hostility, and is a monument to the resourcefulness of the human spirit.