What makes it quietly peculiar is not so much its decay as its layering: the ruin you can see today may well stand on the footprint of an even older one, and the evidence for that older structure amounts to a single word on an 1814 Grand Jury map of the county, where a windmill is recorded simply as a 'stump', already gone before the nineteenth century had properly begun.

The standing ruin itself is built of mortared slabs and was probably raised in the early nineteenth century, a date supported by its appearance as an upstanding, functioning windmill on the 1837 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map. The building is modest but considered in its construction: two doorways face each other at north and south, each topped with a relieving arch, an arch built above the main opening to redirect the weight of the wall and protect the lintel below. The wooden lintels and jambs are long gone, but the arches survive. Inside, a fireplace on the first floor retains a plain horizontal stone lintel, and pairs of small window openings, or opes, sit directly above each doorway to admit light at that level. The presence of a fireplace is a reminder that windmills in Ireland often served as working premises where a miller might spend long hours, not merely as machinery housed in a tower. Archaeological testing carried out in 2005, ahead of housing development nearby, found nothing of significance beneath the surrounding ground, so whatever history the site accumulated, it left little trace below the surface.