Cloonbrusk Castle, once substantial enough to merit recording on the first edition of the Ordnance Survey’s 6-inch map as a rectangular building, has all but vanished from the landscape. By the time cartographers returned in 1933 for the third edition, they could mark only a solitary fragment of wall, oriented northeast to southwest; a ghostly remnant of what had once stood there.

Today, even that lone wall fragment has surrendered to time and nature, leaving no visible trace on the surface for curious visitors to discover. The castle’s complete disappearance speaks to the impermanence of many of Ireland’s lesser-known fortifications, particularly those built with local materials that weather poorly or were systematically robbed for stone to construct nearby farms and field boundaries. What remains is purely documentary evidence; those careful notations on historic maps that serve as the only proof that a castle once commanded this quiet corner of North Galway.

The site exemplifies a common fate for Ireland’s tower houses and small castles, many of which were abandoned after the upheavals of the 17th century. Without maintenance, roofs collapsed, walls tumbled, and local communities gradually carted away the dressed stones for more practical uses. Cloonbrusk Castle’s transformation from mapped structure to invisible ruin occurred within living memory, making it a poignant reminder of how quickly built heritage can slip away when left unprotected.