What makes this site quietly arresting is the gap between what was once there and what prompted its rediscovery: not a heritage project or an archaeological survey driven by curiosity, but the routine groundwork for a new sports facility.

The house appears on the Down Survey map of 1655 to 1656, that ambitious mid-seventeenth-century effort to document Irish landholding in the aftermath of the Cromwellian conquest, where it is shown as a large, multi-gabled dwelling. The Civil Survey of roughly the same period, compiled between 1654 and 1656, is more plain-spoken about it, describing simply a "stone house, slated," a detail recorded by Simington in 1945. That phrasing, modest as it sounds, actually signals something: a slated stone house in this period was a mark of some permanence and means, well above a timber or thatched structure. The building may have been absorbed into or built over by the later Corduff House, though the relationship between the two is not fully resolved.

When excavation was carried out in advance of the sports hall construction, under licence number 05E0360, the remains were more legible than might have been expected. Carroll's 2006 report records the vestiges of eight rooms at foundation level, a section of tiled floor from the ground storey, and the remnants of a pond located roughly twenty metres to the north of the house. That pond is the kind of detail that repays attention: garden or ornamental water features at this period were associated with households of some standing, and its presence suggests the original property was more considered in its layout than the bare Civil Survey entry implies. There is nothing to visit at the surface today, the site having been built over, but for anyone passing through Corduff with an interest in what lies underfoot, it is worth knowing that the ground here carries a layered record that neither map nor modern streetscape gives away.