Most bear no name, no date, no inscription of any kind. They are simply placed, clustered especially thickly around a leacht, a low cairn-like monument used in Irish devotional tradition, and their silence is the point. This is a ceallúnach, a burial ground of the unbaptised or marginalised dead, where those excluded from consecrated church ground, most often infants and young children, were quietly interred across generations.

The geography of grief here was apparently quite specific. Writing in 1910, the Delaps noted that children tended to be buried near the southern boundary of the enclosure, while adults occupied the more central ground. That distinction, documented over a century ago, adds a particular weight to what the stones themselves cannot say. Nearly all of them are uninscribed, which was common in ceallúnaigh where official record-keeping had no place and grief expressed itself through the simple act of placing a stone. One exception stands out: a grave-marker found in the interior of a house site to the south-west bears a Latin cross and reads "In Memory of P. Egan", a rare fragment of named memory amid the anonymous hundreds.