Complete with a fireplace in the south wall and a door facing east, this compact stone structure, measuring roughly five metres by four, was built to shelter whoever was tasked with guarding the dead. That task had a grim practical purpose: in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the newly buried were at risk of being dug up by body snatchers supplying anatomists and medical schools with cadavers, and watchmen would spend nights in such huts keeping vigil over fresh graves. The hut here is ruined now, but its walls survive, and the fireplace is a quietly human detail, a reminder that whoever sat out those nights in the dark needed warmth as much as courage.

The graveyard occupies a rectangular, walled enclosure on a south-facing slope above the Argideen river, set in pasture land with the kind of open aspect that makes a place feel both exposed and calm. The oldest legible memorial slabs on the site date to the 1770s, which gives a rough lower boundary for the burial ground's active use, though the ruins of Clogagh church in the north-east corner suggest a much earlier religious presence on the same ground. Church ruins and graveyard sharing a walled enclosure is a familiar arrangement in rural Ireland, where a medieval or post-medieval parish church fell out of use while the surrounding burial ground continued to receive the dead for generations.