This roughly circular sunken structure, measuring just over 2 metres by 2.5 metres internally, has been carved into the rising ground and enclosed by earthen banks that still show traces of stone facing. A narrow entrance, less than a metre wide, opens westward towards a stream that runs immediately below, suggesting this was no accident of placement but rather a deliberate choice to harness the nearby water source.

The structure’s design and location point to it likely being a sweathouse, a type of primitive sauna once common across rural Ireland, though it could also have served as a kiln. These sweathouses were typically small, stone structures where people would light fires to heat the interior, then douse the hot stones with water to create steam for therapeutic sweating sessions; a practice that continued in some areas well into the 19th century. The presence of two other similar structures nearby, one just 2 metres to the south and another 90 metres upslope, suggests this valley may have been a local centre for such activities, perhaps serving several families or even the wider community.

Curiously, none of these structures appear on any edition of the Ordnance Survey maps, though a lime kiln is marked in the field west of the stream on the 25-inch edition. This absence from official records isn’t unusual for sweathouses, which were often considered too commonplace or insignificant to warrant documentation by Victorian cartographers. Today, these humble remains offer a tangible connection to the everyday health practices of our ancestors, who understood the therapeutic value of a good sweat long before modern spas made it fashionable.