What was once a substantial complex of fortifications, covering roughly 250 metres north to south and 200 metres east to west, has been slowly swallowed by land reclamation, drainage works, and the ordinary passage of agricultural time. A modern road now cuts straight through where banks and ditches once ran, and the low-lying, rush-grown pasture that surrounds the castle gives little obvious sign of what lies, or once lay, beneath it.

In the early years of the twentieth century, a researcher named Knox documented the earthworks in some detail, publishing his findings in 1913 and 1914. What he described was an organised defensive landscape associated with the castle: a series of linear ramparts, banks, and ditches enclosing large rectilinear areas, along with a notable raised triangular area. He also identified what may have been a bailey, the enclosed courtyard typically attached to a medieval fortified residence, sitting nearby. Even at the time Knox was writing, the earthworks were already under pressure; he observed that some banks had been partially levelled and ditches filled in. When the site was inspected again in 1998, only low scarps and ditches to the west and north of the castle could still be tentatively traced, with fragmentary remains visible to the south. The full outline Knox had recorded was no longer recoverable with any confidence, and on the western side of the modern road, the earthworks had vanished entirely.

What makes the site quietly compelling is precisely this quality of near-disappearance. The castle still stands as an anchor point, and patient eyes close to its western and northern sides may still pick out the faint rise and fall of the old earthworks in the damp pasture, particularly in low winter light when shallow ground features cast longer shadows. The rush-grown fields, common in poorly drained western Irish lowlands, have preserved just enough of the topography to hint at the scale of what Knox once walked through.