No pattern days, no votive offerings, no worn path of pilgrims. The name, written in the distinctive gothic lettering cartographers reserved for antiquities, appears on Ordnance Survey maps from 1839 and again on the 1925 edition, suggesting the designation was already established well before either map was made. Whatever devotional history the name implies, it has left no physical trace.

The well sits at the foot of an east-facing slope in Ballygarvan, cut into a natural scarp roughly five metres wide and two and a half metres high. Its circular basin measures about two and a half metres across, retained by drystone walling, a technique of stacking stone without mortar that is common across Irish field monuments of many periods. Water seeps from the scarp and drains down into a wooded valley, with the Owenduff stream running north to south about seventy metres to the east. The setting is quietly functional; water emerging from a slope, contained by a modest stone structure, in a landscape that has evidently held significance long enough to earn a place on nineteenth-century maps. Archaeological monitoring carried out in 2018 during the laying of a gas pipeline about thirty metres to the north found nothing to clarify the picture, producing no material that connected the well to any wider pattern of activity or use.