It is not ruined in the dramatic, ivy-swathed sense that the word sometimes implies; the walls are still reading as architecture, with enough detail surviving to make the original building legible, and that is part of what makes it quietly arresting.

The house dates in appearance to the early nineteenth century, a period when a particular grammar of modest Georgian domesticity was being repeated across rural Ireland: a symmetrical entrance front of three bays, sash windows dressed in brick, a central door with a brick relieving arch above it (an arch built into the wall above an opening to distribute the load and prevent cracking). The side elevation runs only one bay deep, suggesting a fairly compact plan. Around the back, a central projection once housed the stairway and was covered by a hipped roof, now collapsed. Two chimneys remain on the rear wall, and a brick cornice runs beneath the eaves line. One of the more unusual survivals is at basement level on the northern side, where the remains of a projection contain lintelled wall presses, essentially built-in cupboard recesses spanned by flat stone or brick lintels rather than arches, a functional detail that does not often survive long enough to be remarked upon.