The most striking of these are two weathered hood-mould stops built into the north wall of the vestry, each decorated with delicate vine-leaf carvings. Though their tapered ends have broken away over time, these stone pieces were likely salvaged from the ruins of a nearby Franciscan friary, giving the Victorian church an unexpected connection to Ireland’s monastic heritage.

The church’s exterior holds more curious details for those who look closely. Beneath the east window sits a small sandstone panel, measuring just 25 centimetres square, carved with an intricate pattern of four diagonal stalks that criss-cross symmetrically across its surface. Stylised leaves fill the spaces between, all rendered in false relief; a decorative technique that creates the illusion of depth whilst remaining relatively flat. This modest piece of stonework, easily overlooked by casual visitors, represents the kind of skilled craftsmanship that characterised ecclesiastical buildings throughout medieval Ireland.

Perhaps the most unusual features are the fluted, piscina-like stones set high in the eastern walls of both the porch and vestry. The porch stone displays eight flutes radiating from a central hole, whilst its counterpart in the vestry has just four. Positioned just below the eaves, these carved stones may have served a practical purpose in the church’s original design, though their exact function remains unclear. Together, these assembled fragments transform an otherwise unremarkable 19th-century church into a repository of architectural salvage, preserving pieces of Donegal’s religious history within its very walls.