By 1934, when a researcher named Bowman recorded it, a church and burial ground that had formerly occupied a space of roughly fifty yards by twenty-five yards had been reduced to a single earthen mound measuring ten yards by six. Today even that mound is modest, stretching just under ten metres, sitting to the east of a fence and lane, half-swallowed by vegetation.

What lends the site its particular quiet weight is the name attached to the vanished road that once ran along its eastern edge. It was known locally as Bothairín na gcorp, the little road of the bodies, a phrase that points to a once-familiar ritual: the carrying of the dead along a dedicated route to their resting place. Such corpse roads were not uncommon in rural Ireland, worn into the landscape by generations of funeral processions, and their names often survived long after the tracks themselves became impassable or disappeared entirely. Here, no surface trace of that road remains. The site is also remembered locally as a children's burial ground, which would place it in the tradition of a cillín, an informal, unconsecrated plot where unbaptised infants and others excluded from churchyard burial were interred, usually at the margins of settled land.