Local tradition has it that the people buried there were not soldiers, landowners, or monks, but the victims of a shipwreck, gathered up from the shore and interred together in a single raised mound of earth. No marker identifies it. Its exact position has never been precisely established.

The mound appears in the work of Mc Dix, writing in 1897, who noted its proximity to Robswalls Castle and described it as grass-covered. The association with shipwreck victims was recorded later by Flanagan in 1984, drawing on the kind of oral tradition that tends to attach itself to unexplained earthworks in coastal parishes. Whether the mound predates any particular wreck, or whether the story grew around a feature that was already there, is not something the surviving record makes clear. Robswalls Castle itself still stands in the area, a reminder that this stretch of the Dublin coastline was once well within reach of maritime traffic, and all the hazards that came with it. Mass graves of shipwreck victims, sometimes little more than pit burials dug quickly above the tideline, are not unknown along the Irish coast, and a mounded form could easily result from such an improvised interment.

Because the mound has not been precisely located, visiting with any expectation of finding it would require some patience and a willingness to explore the fields and ground around Robswalls. The castle itself provides a reasonable orientation point. The surrounding landscape is low-lying and largely agricultural, so access may depend on the time of year and the condition of the land. There is nothing to mark the spot, no signage or enclosure, and the grass-covered surface described by Mc Dix would make it easy to pass without recognition. What gives the place its particular quality is precisely that ambiguity, a mound that might be anything, carrying a local memory of people lost at sea.