The west gable is the sole survivor of anything approaching completeness, standing featureless against the sky, its top courses possibly rebuilt at some later point. The east wall, meanwhile, survives only to about a metre and a half on the interior, just enough to retain a window embrasure, though the window itself is long gone. Near the south-east corner, a short section of walling ends at what appears to be the splayed jamb of another window, the rest of the wall dissolved into barely perceptible rises in the ground. Placed somewhat incongruously atop the low east wall is a cut-stone memorial to the Ruddocks of Wallstown, a family monument occupying what was once ecclesiastical fabric.

The church's origins reach back at least to the late thirteenth century. It appears in the Papal Taxation of 1291, a survey commissioned by Pope Nicholas IV to assess the value of ecclesiastical properties across Europe, which gives some sense of how established the parish already was by that date. By 1615, the building was recorded as being in ruins, meaning it had fallen out of use well before the upheavals of the seventeenth century, and had probably been declining for some time before that formal notice was made. The Ruddock memorial adds a later layer to the story. The antiquary John Windele visited in 1853 and noted that the monument had been placed on the wall within a year or two of his visit, so sometime around the early 1850s, a local family chose the crumbling shell of a medieval parish church as the setting for their commemorative inscription.