The Ordnance Survey's six-inch map of that year records the site simply as an "R.C. chapel (in ruins)", suggesting that whatever congregation once gathered here had long since dispersed before the first systematic mapping of Ireland got underway.

What survives today is modest but legible. The foundations of a small rectangular building, roughly 7.85 metres east to west and just over 4 metres north to south, sit within a larger enclosure defined by a low bank or the remnant of a boundary wall, still traceable at around 40 centimetres high and 2.5 metres wide. The enclosure itself measures approximately 35.5 metres by 19 metres, generous relative to the chapel footprint, which suggests it may have served as a burial ground as well as a chapel yard. The relationship between the chapel and the nearby tower house, which lies roughly 200 metres to the north-west, is suggestive. Tower houses were fortified residential structures built mainly between the 14th and 17th centuries, and it was not uncommon for a landed family to maintain a private or estate chapel at some remove from the main building. Whether that is the case here remains uncertain, but the proximity makes it a reasonable possibility.

The single headstone visible within the enclosure adds an unexpected dimension. It commemorates one Hugh Monro Robertston and is dated 1819, and the circumstances noted suggest he was likely a victim of a shipwreck. The Wexford coastline has a long and unforgiving record of maritime disasters, and the practice of burying those lost at sea in whatever consecrated or semi-consecrated ground lay nearest was not unusual. That a ruined chapel could still serve that function decades after it had fallen out of regular use says something about how communities held onto the idea of sacred space even when the physical structure had gone.