In a field in Lackelly West, Co. Limerick, a medieval chapel has vanished so completely that not a single cut stone remains visible above ground. The building did not simply decay; it was, in all probability, dismantled deliberately, its dressed window and door stones lifted and reused in the outbuildings of the adjacent farm. A local researcher, writing in the early twentieth century, was shown those moulded stones set into the openings of farm offices roughly ninety metres from the original site. The chapel had been cannibalised, its architectural bones absorbed into the working life of the land.

The site's history reaches back considerably further than any standing masonry would suggest. According to Lynch, writing in 1920, the "Chapel of Corbally" appears in the taxation of Pope Nicholas in 1291, recorded for the Diocese of Emly, and at that time it was held by the Hospitallers of Aney, a medieval military-religious order with local landholdings. The name Corbally once described a much wider territorial area, and Lackelly itself derives from the name given to a nearby rock associated with the birth legend of St. Ailbhe, an early Irish saint whose feast falls on the 12th of September. Local people, Lynch records, were still visiting that rock within living memory of his writing, reciting prayers on the feast day and using water gathered in the rock's natural hollows as a cure. Human remains, including skulls, had also been found in the surrounding field, suggesting an ancient cemetery. Lynch further speculated that the chapel may have occupied the site of Kilrath, an early church mentioned in the Tripartite Life of St. Patrick, said to have stood near the fort of Coirpre and Brocan. The Down Survey map of Coshlea marks a feature called Rathgullane nearby, described as a monumental rath, a large circular earthwork enclosure, in the adjoining parish of Ballyscadden.

For anyone with an interest in landscape archaeology rather than standing monuments, the area rewards slow attention. Lackelly Rock itself is a tangible point of reference, and the broader field system around Kincaid's farm retains the outline of what was once a significant local focus of devotion and, presumably, ecclesiastical income. The chapel's boundary with the parish of Ballyscadden adds another layer of ambiguity; this was a place that sat between jurisdictions, which may partly explain why its memory faded so thoroughly. There is no visitor infrastructure here, and the land is private farmland, so any exploration should be approached with appropriate consideration.