The site offers commanding views in all directions, a strategic advantage that would have appealed to its medieval owners. Around 1300, the manor belonged to John de Fresingfeld, but by 1312 it had passed into the hands of Edmond Butler, who secured the property from its previous owner. The castle appears to have fallen into ruin relatively early; by the time of the 17th century Civil Survey, no mention of a castle at Inchirourke appears in the records, suggesting it had already crumbled into obscurity.

Today, only fragments of the ground floor remain, reaching a maximum height of three metres. Short sections of the north and south walls still stand, constructed from roughly coursed limestone rubble. The surviving southern chamber measures 2.9 metres north to south and 9.2 metres east to west, topped by a barrel vault that rises 2.7 metres high. Fascinating evidence of the original construction method can be seen on the underside of the vault, where impressions of wicker centring used during building are still visible. The structure likely consisted of two barrel-vaulted ground floor chambers running east to west, though only the southern chamber survives intact; remnants of the northern vault can be glimpsed as a springer projecting from the dividing wall.

The exposed western face of the south wall reveals that the castle was built in two distinct phases, though the fragmentary nature of the remains makes it impossible to determine whether this was an early medieval castle or a later tower house. A large gap in the centre of the south wall may mark where a window or doorway once stood, now broken out and lost to time. Among the rubble lies a chamfered limestone jamb, perhaps from a window or door, a lonely reminder of the castle’s more complete past. The ruins stand as a tantalising puzzle, their precise date and original form obscured by centuries of decay.