Known locally as Carroll's Mills, the structure now stands roofless and overgrown against the steep face of a river glen in north Cork, its original industrial logic still legible in the stonework despite decades of abandonment.

The mill was recorded as a corn mill on the 1842 Ordnance Survey six-inch map, and by 1905 the same series marked it as disused, which puts its working life somewhere in the nineteenth century or earlier. The building is three bays wide and built directly into the glen face on its southern side, a common enough arrangement where topography could be pressed into service. Its most revealing feature is the wheel-pit alongside the western wall, cut partly into the rock itself, with a natural spring at its base. The millrace, which channels water from the Farahy River roughly 400 metres to the west, dropped about 3.5 metres into this pit to drive a high breastshot waterwheel, a wheel type in which water strikes roughly at axle height, giving a reasonable balance between power and the available head of water. Attached to the western end of the southern wall is a two-storey grain-drying kiln, a structure that would have used heat from a furnace, whose position is still marked by a stone-lined depression in the floor, to dry harvested grain before milling. A ledge running along the interior walls once supported the timber drying floor, and a doorway in the mill's north wall connected the two buildings at that level. The windows retain their wooden lintels set beneath stone arches, and both gable ends carry small diamond-shaped openings near their apices, a detail that gives the otherwise functional building a faint decorative note. At some point in the mid-twentieth century, local people found a new use for the empty shell, and the enclosed ground floor became a handball alley, a characteristically Irish piece of improvisation that says something about how useful a tall, roofless stone box can be.