The demolition was thorough and deliberate, reducing a centuries-old structure to a heap pushed into the north-east corner of the field. What makes this particular mound worth noting is the layered confusion of names it carries: built, occupied, partly demolished, mapped under a different name, and eventually replaced by a modest thatched cottage that borrowed its original identity.

The house was built by Richard Pyne around 1692 and known as Waterpark. Pyne died in England in 1709, and the property's decline seems to have begun not long after. By 1750, a contemporary account described part of what had been a pleasant park here as already demolished. The house had disappeared from Taylor and Skinner's road map of 1778 entirely, suggesting it had fallen out of use as a notable residence within a few decades of being built. When the Ordnance Survey recorded the area on its six-inch map of 1842, the site was labelled Old Court in Old English script, a cartographic convention typically reserved for antiquities or places considered historically significant but no longer functioning. The name Waterpark had migrated roughly 700 metres to the south-south-west, attaching itself to a single-storey thatched cottage that now stands abandoned and in advanced decay. That transfer of the name probably happened sometime in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century. The 1842 map also marks an Old Pigeon House about fifty metres to the west-north-west of the Old Court site; a pigeon house, or dovecote, was a common feature of larger rural estates in Ireland, providing a source of fresh meat and eggs, but this structure no longer survives either.

What remains on the ground today is the rubble mound from the 1981 bulldozing, sitting quietly in a working pasture field, carrying almost none of the visible character of the house that Pyne commissioned. The story it tells is less about architecture than about how a place can be built, abandoned, renamed, and finally erased within the span of three centuries, leaving only a name drifting across the landscape to mark that anything was once there.