The site appears on the first Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1839 and again on the 1900 edition, marked on the east bank of a stream that cuts a near-vertical gorge two to three metres deep through the valley floor. By the time anyone came to inspect it in person, the church was invisible beneath a dense growth of scrub and trees. It had not been demolished or cleared; it had simply been overgrown out of existence.

The picture is further complicated by an 'Abbey' recorded on the opposite, western bank of the same stream. Whether these were always two separate structures, or whether the church and the abbey are different names for the same place remembered imprecisely across generations, is genuinely unclear. Writing in 1953, O'Kelly noted that what little remained of the abbey at that point was already buried under brushwood and briars, and that local people recalled the surviving walls being dismantled some years before to provide stone for a road bridge spanning the stream a few hundred yards to the north. It is a quietly telling detail: a medieval or post-medieval religious building reduced, incrementally and practically, to a river crossing. The reclaimed grassland that now covers most of the surrounding fields suggests the whole valley has been substantially reshaped over the centuries, leaving these two related sites, church and abbey, tangled together in both geography and memory.