There is no designated plot, no marked boundary separating the living from the dead. Instead, burials have accumulated across the fabric of the friary itself, pressing into the nave, the chancel, and the southern transepts as though the building were simply too useful a place to leave to ruin.

The majority of what survives dates to the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, a range of vaults, inscribed headstones, graveslabs, and wall monuments occupying the interior spaces of a medieval Franciscan friary. But tucked among these later additions are earlier features, including wall monuments that carry dates from the early eighteenth century. One in the north wall of the nave is dated to 1710; another in the south wall of the chancel to 1720; a third, mounted in the east wall of the chancel, bears a date that is only partially legible, reading 171-something, the final digit worn or damaged beyond recovery. That small uncertainty, a date that cannot quite be read, is a quietly telling detail: the friary has been absorbing the dead for so long that some of the evidence has simply begun to fade.