There is nothing to mark it. No plaque, no kerb-stone inscription, no change in the pavement. The gallows that once stood here has left no trace above ground, which makes its documented presence all the more quietly unsettling.

The site appears on the Friends of Medieval Dublin Map, published in 1978 and catalogued as reference O1, a cartographic project that set out to record the physical geography of the medieval city before modern development erased its last legible traces. The map, drawn on by later scholarship including Bradley and King's 1987 survey of the area, places the Archbishop's gallows specifically at the junction of the Coombe and Ash Street. The attribution to the Archbishop is significant. In medieval Ireland, senior ecclesiastical figures held extensive jurisdictional powers, including the right of high justice, meaning the authority to try and execute criminals within their own liberties or land holdings. Dublin's archbishops were among the most powerful lords in the country, and a gallows was both a functional instrument of that authority and a very public statement of it, typically erected at a prominent crossroads or the edge of a settlement where it would be visible to those entering the area.

The Coombe itself was one of the principal thoroughfares of medieval Dublin, running through a district that remained densely settled and commercially active well into the early modern period. Today it is an ordinary urban street, flanked by housing and small businesses. The junction with Ash Street offers no particular visual drama. If you visit, it is worth approaching the crossing from the Coombe side, walking roughly westward from the older city core, and taking a moment to consider what the sightline would once have meant to someone arriving on foot. There is nothing to see in the conventional sense, but that absence is itself part of the record, a gap in the city's surface where something deliberate and authoritative once stood.