The ground rises gently to the east and west around it, the fields long since reclaimed and stripped of whatever once stood there. What makes the spot unusual is precisely its absence: generations of cartographers and antiquarians kept marking it, kept giving it a name, even as the thing itself had already gone.

The 1842 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map marks the location with a circle and the label "Cromlech", a term used loosely in the nineteenth century for a range of prehistoric megalithic structures. By the 1915 edition, the name had quietly acquired a bracketed qualification: "Cromlech (Site of)". The antiquarian Thomas Johnson Westropp, writing in 1901, provides the most specific account of what had been there. He noted that the structure was said to have been a small cist, a type of prehistoric stone box burial typically formed from a few upright slabs with a flat capstone laid across the top, used to contain human remains. According to Westropp, this particular cist comprised four slabs and a cover, and had been removed sometime after 1839. No record survives of who removed it, or where the stones went. Later assessments could only list it cautiously as a "possible" cist, the original form being known only through local memory passed on to Westropp decades after the fact.

What remains today is a location in a valley, farmland around it, and a succession of maps that tracked the slow administrative acknowledgement of a loss.