That much is known. Where exactly it stood, who built it, and what became of it are questions the record declines to answer, which places this structure in a peculiar category: historically attested, geographically adrift.

The sole reference comes from Clarke (2002, 30), who notes the existence of a former stone house at this location, dating it to 1547. In the context of sixteenth-century Dublin, a stone house would have been a mark of some substance. Most domestic buildings of the period in and around the city were timber-framed or of lesser construction, and stone indicated either civic prominence or serious private wealth. The south city area in this period sat at the margins of the medieval town proper, a zone of parishes, religious houses, and incremental expansion beyond the walls. A stone house here would not have been unremarkable to contemporaries, even if it has since slipped entirely from the physical and documentary record. Clarke's reference gives us a date but not a precise location, and no subsequent survey appears to have pinned it down further.

There is, practically speaking, nothing to visit. The site is unlocated, the structure long gone, and no physical trace has been identified. What this entry offers instead is a small window onto the texture of early modern Dublin, the kind of building that once gave the streetscape its character and has since vanished without ceremony. For anyone walking the older lanes and churchyards of the south city, it is worth carrying the awareness that the fabric underfoot has been remade many times over, and that the sixteenth century occasionally surfaces, if only as a footnote in someone's footnotes.