What survives above ground is modest: a single standing wall of roughly coursed rubble, two metres high and three and a half metres long, oriented roughly northwest to southeast. Scattered piles of masonry around it suggest the outline of a larger building, positioned only about four metres from the riverbank, close enough that water would have been central to however the works were operated.

The more telling evidence sits to the northeast of the building, where grass-covered mounds of slag and partially smelted ore still break the surface in varied shapes and sizes. Slag is the waste material left behind after iron smelting, the glassy or stony residue that accumulates in significant quantities wherever ore is repeatedly processed by heat. Its presence here, along with the ore itself in intermediate states of smelting, points to a site where iron production was carried out over some sustained period, rather than as a one-off episode. About eight metres to the south of the building, on slightly rising ground, two parallel earthen banks add another layer of complexity. Each bank is around six metres wide and a metre and a half high, running parallel to one another with eight metres between them for a total length of twelve metres. Their function is not spelled out by what remains on the surface, but parallel banks of this regularity are rarely accidental. A ravine descending from the south meets the site at roughly this point, suggesting the topography was deliberately worked to serve the industrial activity below.

The setting repays attention even without knowing the full story. The river to the northeast, the ravine from the south, and the level terrace between them create a geography that would have been practically attractive to any operation requiring water, fuel from surrounding slopes, and a stable working platform. The grassed-over slag heaps are perhaps the most evocative detail, ordinary-looking mounds that carry, just beneath the surface, the residue of a forge long since fallen quiet.