No monument marks where it stood. No visible surface trace survives. What remains is a name on two old maps and a disagreement about where, exactly, that name should have been placed.

Holy wells in Ireland are typically natural springs that acquired devotional significance over centuries, often associated with a local saint and visited for the curative or protective properties ascribed to their water. This one, Toberconnelly, appears in Gothic script on the Ordnance Survey six-inch maps of 1838 and 1933, positioned in marshland close to the Eiscir River. The esker, or eiscir, is a long gravel ridge formed by meltwater streams beneath a retreating glacier, and the river here takes its name from that characteristic landscape feature of the Irish midlands and west. The map placing, however, appears to have been wrong. When a researcher checked the indicated location in 1989, nothing was found. The landowner at the time clarified that the well had actually lain to the south of the river, and the 1933 map itself seems to support this, showing a well marked further south than the labelled spot, suggesting the name had migrated northward in error across successive surveys.

What is left, then, is a cartographic ghost: a name applied to marshland for over a century, pointing at the wrong ground, for a well that no longer exists in any case. The story is a small illustration of how local knowledge and official record can quietly diverge, and how a filled-in spring can become, within a generation or two, almost entirely unlocatable.