The Irish translates roughly as "townland of the court" or "of the big house", and that etymology points directly to a large L-shaped residence once associated with the Martins, a family whose name turns up repeatedly in the landed history of Connacht. The place gave its name to the old church nearby, which is itself a measure of how dominant the house must once have appeared in this flat, open pastoral landscape.

By the early twentieth century the building was already a ruin, and a researcher writing in 1911 to 1912 observed that its "excellently cut stone work" had been systematically quarried away and incorporated into labourers' cottages in the area. The 1838 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map had recorded the house as an L-shaped structure sitting directly beside a northeast-southwest road, with several associated outbuildings to its southeast and southwest, and possibly a brewery among them. When the site was inspected in March 1983, almost nothing legible remained above ground. The longer arm of the L measured roughly 17.6 metres internally, the shorter arm about 15.5 metres, but the walls of the shorter section and most of the longer had collapsed into grassed-over banks indistinguishable at a glance from natural undulations in the field. The sole surviving architectural detail consisted of four splayed windows preserved in the northwest wall of the longer section, splayed windows being a common feature of early modern Irish domestic building, where the widening of the internal window reveal helped draw more light into thick-walled rooms. Nearby, the remains of a stone cross were found lying beside the foundations of one of the associated outbuildings, a detail that sits unexplained in the record and adds a quiet strangeness to an already fragmentary site.

What visitors would find today is essentially a field. The grassed-over banks that represent the walls are the kind of earthwork that requires a knowing eye, or at minimum a copy of the 1838 map for comparison. The four window remnants in the northwest wall are the one feature that retains any architectural character, and the low-lying pastureland setting, unremarkable at first glance, carries the weight of a place that once gave an entire townland its identity.