The head is gone, either worn away by centuries of damage or deliberately removed by someone who had reasons of their own. What remains is quietly arresting: a limestone slab, coffin-shaped and tapered, just over a metre and a half long, with a figure incised into its surface in a long loose gown that falls in careful folds to the feet.

The slab dates to the late thirteenth or fourteenth century and was only brought to light during building alterations in the 1990s, when it was found at the western end of the nave, just south of the north-west column, presumably where it had lain undisturbed for the better part of seven hundred years. The carving is detailed enough to read clearly despite the damage. The figure's left hand holds a mantle string at chest height, while the right hand gathers a fold of the mantle at the upper thigh on the right-hand side, a pose common in medieval funerary art that conveys a kind of composed dignity. The lower right section of the slab has also suffered badly, so the full composition is lost. Along the chamfered edge on the left-hand side, an inscription runs in Lombardic characters, the rounded, ornamental script used widely in medieval stonework across Ireland and Britain. Whether the inscription names the deceased or carries a devotional formula is not recorded, but its presence confirms that whoever commissioned this stone expected it to be read.

The slab is currently visible in the floor of the nave at St. Mary's, protected by its perspex covering. The incised lines of the gown and the careful positioning of the hands reward a close look, even in the absence of the figure's face.