Its exact position has been lost, its appearance is unrecorded, and no physical trace of it survives above ground. What remains is a single line in a document from 1496, noted by the historian John D'Alton in 1838, confirming that a cross was then standing in Crumlin. That slender thread of evidence is all that anchors the object to history.

Wayside and village crosses were a common feature of medieval Irish settlements, typically marking a focal point in a community, whether a meeting place, a boundary, or a site of local devotion. The historian P.W. Joyce, writing in 1912, also recorded the existence of a cross in Crumlin Village during the fifteenth century, drawing on the same documentary tradition. A researcher named Ball went a step further and proposed a possible location, suggesting the cross may have stood at the junction of Dolphin's Barn and the Drimnagh Road, a crossroads that would have been a natural candidate for such a monument. But Ball's suggestion remains just that, a suggestion, and the cross has never been precisely located.

Crumlin in the fifteenth century was a rural parish on the southern fringe of the medieval city of Dublin, its landscape quite different from the dense suburban streets that now cover the area. The junction of Dolphin's Barn and Drimnagh Road still exists as a recognisable point on the map, and standing there today it is possible to imagine the logic of Ball's hypothesis. Road junctions were practical places for crosses, visible to travellers from multiple directions. There is nothing to see now, no plaque, no marker, no local tradition that points to the spot. The cross belongs to the category of things that history has recorded just enough to confirm existed, and not nearly enough to recover.