The stone is not lying flat as a graveslab ordinarily would be; it has been inserted upright into the wall itself, repurposed as masonry, which is how it survived at all. Only the upper portion remains, measuring just over a metre wide and less than a metre tall, and the inscription it bears is fading steadily back into the surface.

Three lines of text in roman capitals run across the full width of the slab's upper section. The first two lines are worn to the point of illegibility, but the third begins with a date, either 1693 or 1695, the difference between the two numerals no longer clear enough to settle. What can still be made out at the start of the inscription is the phrase "HERE LIES CORNELIUS (?) GEALE OF", followed by a place name or further detail that the stone no longer gives up. Even the forename carries a question mark; the reading of Cornelius is uncertain. Below those three lines, the remaining two thirds of the slab is either blank or so completely worn that nothing remains to be read. Whether that lower portion once held a carved motif, a coat of arms, or further text is now impossible to say.

The slab is visible from the entrance to the graveyard, set at eye level in the wall rather than underfoot, which makes it easier to examine closely. The worn roman capitals reward patience; angled light in the morning or late afternoon can bring out traces that flat midday sun would flatten entirely.