This one is gone entirely, worked back into the soil by a landlord's decision and a farmer's logic. The burial ground that once adjoined Ballymacadane Abbey in the Oldabbey townland of County Cork left no visible surface trace; it was dug out during the eighteenth century, and the excavated earth, described in an 1894 account as its "mould", was spread across the surrounding field as fertiliser. The bones of the dead, and whatever markers may have stood above them, were absorbed into the agricultural landscape without ceremony or record.

Ballymacadane Abbey is a medieval ruin, and its graveyard apparently lay on the southern side of the building. The decision to remove it was practical rather than malicious in any dramatic sense; graveyard soil, rich in organic matter accumulated over centuries of burial, was genuinely valued as an amendment for exhausted land. That a landowner in the 1700s would prioritise his field over the physical remains of a community's dead reflects an attitude to ecclesiastical ruins that was common enough in post-Reformation Ireland, where old monastic sites had lost their institutional protectors and were left to the mercy of whoever held the surrounding ground. What makes this case unusual is not that the graveyard was disturbed, but that the disturbance was so thorough and so candidly recorded.