Most of the graves are marked by small undressed headstones, uncarved and unadorned, with one exception: a stone in the south-west corner bears the date 1838, a rare fixed point in an otherwise undocumented burial ground. The site is disused today, and the encroaching woodland gives it the quality of a place that has been quietly forgotten rather than formally abandoned.

What makes this modest enclosure genuinely curious is the possibility that it sits on top of something much older. Archaeologists have noted that it may occupy the site of a medieval friary, a religious house of one of the mendicant orders, though nothing in the visible landscape confirms this now. The first edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map, produced in the nineteenth century, already records the graveyard as it stands, suggesting the burial ground was well established by the time cartographers arrived in the area. Seventy metres to the north lies a holy well, a category of site with roots stretching back to pre-Christian practice in Ireland, later absorbed into local Catholic devotion. The proximity of a graveyard, a possible friary, and a holy well in such a small area points to a layered sacred geography that is far older than any single monument within it.