That ambiguity is not a gap in modern knowledge so much as a condition the site seems to have always carried. They appear on the 1842 Ordnance Survey six-inch map, plotted east of a nearby grouping described only as an anomalous stone group, yet they were given no name, no label, no apparent significance beyond the fact that a surveyor decided to mark them. Nobody locally seems to have any memory of them.

The 1842 OS mapping was a remarkably thorough exercise, produced during the first systematic cartographic survey of Ireland and generally reliable in its recording of field monuments. So the two stones were almost certainly there when the surveyors passed through. What happened next is harder to say. The burial ground has since been cleared of overgrowth, and what is visible now are only the stones belonging to the separate anomalous stone group nearby. The standing stones themselves have either been removed, fallen and become buried, or were always close enough to the ground to disappear once the vegetation that once framed them was gone. There is no local tradition attached to them, which in Irish archaeology is itself a kind of detail worth noting. Many prehistoric standing stones, erected singly or in pairs during the Bronze Age as boundary markers, ritual features, or burial indicators, accumulated folklore and placename associations over the centuries. These two apparently did not, or if they did, that knowledge did not survive.

What remains on the ground is the anomalous stone group, which is separately recorded and still visible within the burial ground. The standing stones of the title occupy a stranger position, present on a map made nearly two centuries ago, absent from both the landscape and living memory.