These are not random rubble. According to local knowledge, they mark the graves of children, quietly embedded in a floor now choked with vegetation and tumbled boulders. The absence of inscriptions is deliberate, or at least traditional. Such burials are characteristic of what are known in Ireland as cillíní, unconsecrated burial grounds used historically for infants who died before baptism and were therefore excluded from consecrated parish cemeteries. The practice was widespread, and the sites were often tucked into liminal spaces, ruined churches among them, places that occupied an ambiguous ground between the sacred and the unblessed.

The church itself provides the context for the burials, its interior now so heavily overgrown that the boulders strewn across the ground are difficult to read at first glance. Some of this stone is likely collapsed wall material, which adds to the sense of general disorder, making the deliberate placement of the small earthfast markers all the more striking once the eye adjusts to what it is actually seeing. The site was brought to wider attention by Dr C. Cunniffe, whose local knowledge proved essential to identifying the nature of the burials among the general debris of the ruin.

The vegetation covering the interior is dense, and without prior knowledge of what the stones represent, a casual visitor would almost certainly walk past without registering their significance. The unmarked headstones are small and set into the ground rather than raised above it, which means they require close attention and a degree of care underfoot. The site sits within the fabric of the older church structure, so the two monuments are essentially inseparable in practice, the burial ground making sense only in relation to the ruin that contains it.