The stack is substantial, almost three metres north to south and nearly two metres east to west, and it likely once projected from the western wall of the building. Inside, a fireplace measuring over two metres wide and more than a metre deep still faces east, though the lintel that would have spanned it is long gone. The structure appeared on the Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1842, already reduced enough by then to be recorded as a ruin rather than a dwelling.

What makes the site quietly puzzling is the local tradition attached to it. According to people in the area, the building was once part of an Elizabethan hospital. The term here would not mean a hospital in any modern sense; in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, such institutions were typically modest establishments, sometimes associated with plantation-era settlement or military administration, intended to provide basic care for soldiers or settlers. Whether that tradition has any documentary foundation is unclear, and the date of the structure remains officially undetermined. The gap between what the stonework can tell us and what local memory has preserved is part of what makes a place like this worth pausing over.