The one at Carrignamuck, in mid Cork, saves its more unusual work for the back. The entrance front is composed and formal, seven bays wide with a central breakfront, a pedimented projection of three bays that draws the eye to a flight of stone steps and a doorway framed in limestone with an entablature resting on slender consoles. The ground-floor windows carry limestone architraves and prominent keystones, and shallow string courses mark each floor level cleanly. Orderly, assured, entirely Georgian in its instincts. Turn to the rear elevation, though, and the vocabulary shifts. A Venetian window, with its characteristic arched central light flanked by narrower flat-topped ones, fills the central bay between the ground and first floors, while above it a Diocletian window, a semicircular form divided into three lights, sits recessed beneath a semicircular brick arch. It is an unusually layered combination for a rural Cork farmhouse, and suggests an owner with some architectural ambition, or at least an architect with catholic references.

The house dates in appearance to the late eighteenth century, and the two-storey stone farmbuildings arranged around a courtyard to the rear suggest it was always the centre of a working agricultural estate rather than a purely residential seat. What makes the broader landscape around it worth attending to is the presence of two further structures that hint at a longer history on this particular ground. To the south, within woodland, stands a square tower of roughly the same date as the house, its purpose now unclear, though such features occasionally served as estate follies or prospect towers in the Georgian period. To the northeast, at closer range, lies Carrignamuck Castle, a structure with its own separate record, and a reminder that whoever chose to build this house in the late 1700s was doing so on land that had already carried human occupation for centuries.