It appears in the Ordnance Survey Name Books, the nineteenth-century field notebooks compiled by OS surveyors as they mapped Ireland in remarkable detail, noting not just place names but local features, ruins, and earthworks. Somebody, at some point, wrote it down. And there, more or less, the trail ends.

The entry places the mound in the northern part of the townland, which is the extent of what is known about its location. Whether it was a burial mound, a collapsed ringfort, or some other earthen feature, the record does not say. Mounds of this kind in Ireland can range from prehistoric funerary monuments to the remains of a Norman motte, a raised earthwork used as the base for a timber castle, or simply a natural rise that acquired local significance over time. What is notable here is not the mound itself but its absence from subsequent investigation. Recorded but unlocated, it sits in an awkward category of things that are known to have existed, or at least to have been seen, but which cannot now be confirmed on the ground.