Marked as an ‘Old Burial Ground (Disused)’ on 19th century Ordnance Survey maps, this isolated spot served as the final resting place for those deemed unfit for consecrated ground; stillborn and unbaptised infants, alongside unidentified mariners whose bodies washed ashore over two centuries. The practice, common throughout Ireland during the 19th and 20th centuries, reflects a time when strict Catholic doctrine prevented certain souls from being buried in parish cemeteries.

The island’s remote location made it a practical, if melancholic, solution for families faced with the heartbreak of infant loss. Local communities would row across to the island to inter their children in unmarked graves, creating what became known as a cillín, or children’s burial ground. The same isolation that made it suitable for these burials also meant it became the default resting place for unknown sailors and victims of shipwrecks along this stretch of coast, their identities lost to the sea but their remains given at least some dignity in death.

In 2009, the local community erected a memorial cross and plaque to commemorate all those buried on the island. The bilingual inscription remembers both ‘na hAingle Beaga’ (the little angels) and the mariners, offering them the eternal rest they were once denied, and includes a line from the hymn “Shall We Gather at the River”, suggesting a hope for reunion in the afterlife. This act of remembrance represents a broader movement across Ireland to acknowledge and honour these forgotten burial grounds, bringing comfort to families whose ancestors were once excluded from formal religious rites.