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Whispers of the Moor

Rob Vickery

The Enchantment of Silena Moor and the Treverven Standing Stone


Illustration by Joseph Blight for the chapter entitled "The Fairy Dwelling of Selena Moor" in "Traditions & Hearthside Stories of Cornwall by William Bottrell (1873)
Illustration by Joseph Blight for the chapter entitled "The Fairy Dwelling of Selena Moor" in "Traditions & Hearthside Stories of Cornwall by William Bottrell (1873)


Nestled deep in the Cornish countryside, Silena Moor sprawls like a forgotten dream, its marshy expanse and tangled brambles murmuring secrets of the past. Overlooking this eerie terrain stands the Treverven Standing Stone, a six-foot sentinel of the Bronze Age. From each angle, the stone’s irregular form offers a new face, as if it hides countless stories within its weathered surface. Just two miles west of the famous Merry Maidens stone circle and a mile south of St. Buryan Church, the menhir’s quiet presence has long captured the imagination of those who wander its secluded field. Archaeologists may insist that the Treverven stone holds no particular significance—an excavation in 1922 found no treasures—but local legend ties this enigmatic monolith to one of Cornwall’s most detailed tales of faery enchantment.



The Treverven Standing Stone
The Treverven Standing Stone


The story, preserved by the folklorist William Bottrell in Traditions and Hearthside Stories of West Cornwall, begins not far from this mysterious standing stone. It tells of William Noy, a bachelor from the historic estate of Pendrea, whose fateful journey across Silena Moor one harvest evening led him into a realm beyond mortal comprehension. What makes this tale so compelling is its detail: the moor’s geography, the real families, and the very farms and villages that anchor the story in tangible reality. Yet, as with all great Cornish legends, a thread of the supernatural runs deep, weaving grief, loss, and the beguiling danger of the fae into the fabric of the land.






The Sentinel of Treverven: A Threshold to the Otherworld


The Treverven Standing Stone has watched over Silena Moor for millennia, its origins lost in time. Such menhirs often served as boundary markers, sacred sites, or perhaps portals to the mystical. These monoliths hold a particular significance in Cornish folklore, standing as sentinels of places where the ordinary world brushes against the otherworldly. The Treverven stone, with its imposing height and irregular shape, seems almost alive, as if it shifts subtly under the play of light and shadow. To those who visit, it inspires a quiet reverence—a reminder that the land itself holds ancient secrets.

Surrounding the stone, Silena Moor unfolds as a landscape both captivating and treacherous. Its quaking bogs and hidden springs whisper of untold mysteries, while its rocky outcrops and tangled thickets conceal the footprints of time. In summer, the moor bursts into unexpected life, with cotton grass and bog-beans swaying in the breeze, yet its beauty belies its danger. This duality—of allure and peril—is mirrored in the faery lore that permeates the region. It is here, amidst this wild terrain and beneath the watchful eye of the Treverven stone, that William Noy’s extraordinary encounter began.



The Tale of William Noy: A Fateful Shortcut


The Noy family, a prominent line in 16th and 17th-century Cornwall, owned the Pendrea estate just outside St. Buryan. William Noy, born in 1577, was a man of ambition and intellect who would rise to serve as attorney general to King Charles I. Yet in the tale preserved by Bottrell, Noy is portrayed not as a figure of state but as a bachelor farmer, deeply connected to the rhythms of rural life. His story begins on an autumn evening during the harvest season, a time when the community gathered to celebrate their labours.





After spending the day helping his kinsfolk at Burnewhall Farm, Noy set out for Churchtown to gather additional hands for the next day’s harvest festivities. The journey should have been straightforward, but as twilight deepened, the familiar landscape seemed to shift around him. His horse grew uneasy, his dogs whined, and an unsettling quiet descended over the moor. Undeterred, Noy chose to take a shortcut across Silena Moor—a decision that would alter the course of his life.

As he rode, a faint music reached his ears, unlike anything he had ever heard. Ethereal and otherworldly, it seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Then, through the gathering gloom, he glimpsed flickering lights dancing in the distance. Drawn by these strange phenomena, Noy pressed on, unaware that he was venturing into a realm where mortal rules no longer applied. By the time he realised he was lost, it was too late. The moor, once so familiar, had transformed into an alien landscape.



Grace’s Lament: The Faery World Revealed


Among the most poignant elements of Noy’s tale is his encounter with Grace Hutchens, a woman he had loved and lost. Grace, who had been declared dead and buried in St. Buryan Churchyard years earlier, appeared before him as a living spectre of his past. Yet she was changed. Her once-vivid presence now carried an ethereal quality, as though she belonged more to the moonlight than to the world of men. Her voice trembled with sorrow as she revealed the truth of her fate.



St Buryan's Church
St Buryan's Church


Grace recounted how she had been lured into the fae’s world by the allure of an enchanted orchard. One evening, while searching for stray sheep on Silena Moor, she had stumbled across a garden unlike any she had seen before. Its trees bore fruit of gold and its pathways shimmered under the starlight. Overcome by thirst, she plucked a plum that dissolved into bitter water on her tongue. In that moment, she fell unconscious and awoke surrounded by the fae.


As she explained to Noy, the fae’s world is one of illusion. Their feasts, though grand, are but hollow facades; their beauty masks a deeper decay. Trapped in their realm, Grace had become a servant, tasked with baking, brewing, and nursing their changeling children. Yet her love for Noy remained undiminished. Risking the wrath of her captors, she warned him not to succumb to their tricks. “Touch nothing,” she implored, “for a single taste or step into their dance will bind you here forever.”



Breaking the Spell: An Ancient Charm

Noy’s escape from the faery realm hinged on a piece of ancient wisdom. When the fae demanded Grace’s return, Noy acted quickly. Reaching into his pocket, he turned a glove inside out, placed a small stone within it, and hurled it into their midst. The effect was immediate and dramatic. The music ceased, the lights vanished, and the faery gathering dissolved into the night. In an instant, Noy found himself alone, standing amidst the ruins of an old bowjey near the Treverven Standing Stone.

Though he had escaped their clutches, Noy was forever altered by his experience. The memory of Grace haunted him, her warnings echoing in his mind. He became a restless figure, wandering the moors by moonlight, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. His melancholy grew, and he began to neglect his farm and his duties. Some say he died before the next harvest, consumed by his longing. Others whisper that he vanished into the fae’s realm, drawn back by the enduring enchantment of Silena Moor.



Piskies, Spriggans, and the Danger of Being Led Astray


Cornish folklore is rich with tales of the Little People, who embody the spirit of the land itself. Piskies, the most well-known, are mischievous tricksters who delight in leading travellers astray. To be “piskie-led” is to wander in circles, unable to find one’s way until dawn or until a charm breaks the spell. Turning one’s coat inside out, carrying a piece of iron, or sprinkling salt are traditional means of protection. These simple acts, rooted in ancient belief, reflect humanity’s enduring attempt to coexist with the unseen forces of the natural world.


Spriggans, on the other hand, are far less benign. These fierce protectors of ancient sites are often blamed for misfortunes ranging from poor harvests to missing children. Legend holds that they guard buried treasures and sacred spaces, such as stone circles and burial cairns, with a vengeful zeal. Then there are the Knockers, the subterranean fae of Cornwall’s mines. Beloved and feared in equal measure, Knockers are said to guide miners to rich lodes or warn of impending danger. Their presence underscores the deep connection between Cornish folklore and the land’s industrial past.



A Spriggan. Image credit: Morgana Weeks & Dark Cornwall
A Spriggan. Image credit: Morgana Weeks & Dark Cornwall


The Treverven Stone: Silent Witness to Myth and Reality


The Treverven Standing Stone remains a steadfast presence in the Cornish countryside, its irregular shape catching the light and shadow in shifting patterns. While archaeologists may dismiss it as unremarkable, local lore breathes life into its weathered surface. The stone stands not merely as a relic of the Bronze Age but as a marker of stories that intertwine history and legend. To those who know its tale, it is far more than a mere monolith; it is a gateway to the past, a symbol of the mysteries that lie just beyond the veil.


William Noy’s story may straddle the line between history and myth, but it captures the essence of Cornwall’s deep connection to its land and its lore. The moors, the standing stones, and the whispers of the fae all serve as reminders that magic lingers in the everyday, waiting for those who dare to wander. The Treverven stone’s quiet field is a place where one can almost hear the echoes of Bottrell’s story in the rustling grass and feel the weight of centuries in the cool shadow of the menhir.



Conclusion: Letting Legends Live


Cornwall’s legends are more than fireside tales—they are the soul of a land where history and myth coexist. The story of William Noy and the Treverven Standing Stone is one of love, loss, and the enduring allure of the fae. It invites us to look beyond the surface of the world, to see the magic that lingers in the bracken and the mist.


The Treverven stone still stands, its silent vigil unbroken. Whether you see it as a gateway, a sentinel, or simply a monument to the past, its presence is a testament to Cornwall’s rich tapestry of folklore. For those who visit Silena Moor, take care not to stray too far—the fae may yet be watching.

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