The first was a castle that survived into living memory before meeting its end with dynamite in the 1950s or 60s. Today, only heaps of stone along the eastern field boundary mark where it once stood; a site that has absorbed the old townland name of Kilmartyr. Records from 1616 show Thomas Warde paying rent to Richard Cosby for this property, though by the early 20th century, historians O’Hanlon and O’Leary could only identify foundation traces and a basement cellar in an open field.

More intriguing is the second structure, known locally as ‘the Monastery’, though this name appears to be pure folklore. When the antiquarian Comerford examined the ruins in 1886, he found no evidence of any religious purpose, noting instead that the building’s small window perforations resembled those of secular buildings rather than ecclesiastical architecture. By 1907, only an end wall remained standing, along with part of a side wall pierced by a small window. The walls were remarkably thick, and the gable end featured what appeared to be a massive chimney breast, though its ruinous state made its original function difficult to determine.

Between these two ruins once stood another building marked on old maps as ‘the house of Cahir-nacapul’, though locals preferred to call it Squire Weaver’s house after a former resident. Much of the stonework from these structures was likely recycled into a barn that was built between the ‘monastery’ and the old mansion’s gable wall. The site has yielded human remains over the years, adding another layer of mystery to these vanished buildings that once dominated the Ballymaddock landscape but now exist only in historical records and local tradition.