Not looted, not demolished, not even properly forgotten, because forgetting implies there was something memorable to begin with. It simply ceased to be visible, leaving behind a gap in the landscape where archaeology once sat.

The site is recorded as a barrow, a type of burial mound typically raised in prehistoric times to mark the interment of the dead. When the first edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map was produced, it showed a small circular enclosure roughly ten metres across. By the third edition, published in 1916, the cartographers had revised their description to a small hollow. By the time anyone went to look in person, even that depression had gone, with no visible surface trace surviving at ground level. The sequence is quietly telling: a mound becomes a dip, and a dip becomes nothing. What caused the levelling is not recorded, though centuries of agriculture on flat, workable land offers the most obvious explanation. A comparable monument lies approximately ninety metres to the south-east, which at least suggests this was not an isolated burial but part of a wider, now largely erased, funerary landscape.