The wall that remains, a section of the south face standing nearly four metres high and running almost seven metres in length, once belonged to a post-medieval summer house. A narrow slit opening in the stonework lends it a vaguely martial air, but the building was never a castle, whatever local tradition may have called it.

By 1837, Samuel Lewis was already describing the structure as a small tower on the hill's summit. Three years later, Ordnance Survey workers recording place names and local knowledge in Ballingarry parish gathered a more vivid account. Their field notes describe the tower as having been built by the father of a Mr Robinson, then proprietor of a nearby estate, and note that dinner parties often assembled there on Sunday afternoons to enjoy the fine prospect the elevation commands. It is a reminder that the landscape follies and hilltop retreats of the Anglo-Irish gentry were not purely ornamental. They were social stages, places where the view itself was the entertainment. The building had apparently already fallen into ruin by the time those notes were written in 1840, suggesting the fashion that prompted its construction was fairly short-lived.

What survives today is modest: the south wall, footings of the west wall, and nothing visible of the north and east walls. The slit opening in the south wall, consistent in style with nineteenth-century construction rather than any genuinely medieval feature, is the one detail that rewards a closer look.