The area carries no visible trace of what once lay there, no raised earth, no scatter of stone, no boundary wall hinting at former use. What survives instead is a cartographic ghost: two editions of the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps, published in 1902 and again in 1935, mark the spot with the quietly telling label "Burial Ground (site of)", the parenthetical already conceding, even then, that the thing itself was gone or going.

The phrasing on those maps is doing a great deal of work. By the early twentieth century, whoever compiled the survey knew enough to record that a burial ground had existed here, but not enough, or not with sufficient confidence, to mark it as a living feature of the landscape. What kind of burial ground it was, how old, and to whom it belonged are questions the available evidence does not answer. Ireland has many categories of such places, from early medieval ecclesiastical enclosures to informal famine-era plots to the unconsecrated ground known as a cillin, typically used for the burial of unbaptised infants. Without further investigation, Rostellan's lost ground fits no particular category. It simply disappears from the map record after 1935, and from the ground itself apparently long before that.