A third edition Ordnance Survey map from 1931 shows it clearly enough, but visit the ground today and you will find no visible surface trace. No stones, no mounding, no markers of any kind remain to indicate that children were once laid to rest here.

The site was a cillín, the Irish term for an informal, unconsecrated burial ground used for unbaptised infants and others who, under Catholic ecclesiastical law, could not be interred in consecrated ground. These places were scattered across the Irish landscape for centuries, often located at liminal or ancient spots: old boundaries, shorelines, and, as here, the interiors of ringforts. A ringfort is a circular enclosure, typically defined by an earthen bank and ditch, built during the early medieval period as a defended farmstead or settlement. Their age and otherworldly associations in Irish folklore made them places apart from ordinary land, and communities sometimes chose them for precisely this kind of burial. The Claddagh example sits within a specific ringfort recorded in the archaeological inventory of the county, and the pairing of the two monuments, one from the early medieval period and one from a later but undated tradition of informal burial, is itself quietly telling about how communities reused and reinterpreted old places across generations.

What the 1931 map recorded has since been lost to the surface entirely. The Claddagh itself was largely demolished and rebuilt in the early twentieth century, its distinctive thatched cottages replaced with local authority housing, and the broader landscape of the area was substantially altered. The children buried here left no legible mark on the ground, and the ground itself has since been transformed. The site survives now only as a cartographic ghost and an entry in the archaeological record.