Local memory identifies this as a burial ground, recalled as an enclosed area of around fifty metres east to west and forty metres north to south, defined by an earthen bank roughly a metre high. Inside, the ground is uneven, marked by what people describe as humps and hollows, the kind of subtle surface disturbance that often signals burials beneath.

What makes this place particularly elusive is how thoroughly it has slipped out of the official record. The Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1842 shows a field and a house on the site but gives no name and no indication of anything out of the ordinary. By the time the 1903 revision of the same map was produced, the field appears again, still rectangular, still unnamed. No church, no graveyard marker, no place-name to anchor it. The enclosing earthen bank, which once ran around the entire perimeter, has since been largely levelled; only a small portion to the west survives to its original height. Whatever formal boundary once made the space legible as consecrated or set-apart ground has almost entirely gone.

Sites like this one, small enclosed burial grounds with no surviving ecclesiastical structure and no written record, are not uncommon across rural Ireland. They tend to persist through local knowledge long after the physical evidence fades. Here, the memory of the place as a burial ground has outlasted both its name and most of its earthwork. The humps and hollows in the interior remain the most tangible sign that the ground was once used deliberately, and that something lies beneath the grass.