Waters of Mallow

My friends were busy during my day in Cork city, so I thought I might finally go to Blarney. I've never been to Blarney Castle, or Cliffs of Mohor, or Giant's Causeway. I've never been to Rock of Cashel nor Glenadalough. Never been on the Guinness tour, Dublin Castle, nor Kilmainham Gaol now that I think of it.

So I thought I would go to Blarney. Not to kiss the stone—I doubt anyone could stand for me having any more of that. I've heard the grounds are beautiful, and I'm a little embarrassed I've never visited most of the marquee Irish landmarks.

I drove the 20 miles north of Cork to Blarney, only to learn that it costs €18 and permits no dogs, even if I carried him in the infant sling. I understand "no dogs" rules, so no hard feelings, Blarney.

I looked at the map, and saw that Mallow, "The Crossroads of Munster," was just another 20 miles north. I've never been to Mallow either, and only knew about it from the song.







Warning: earworm

Like many Irish towns, Mallow is sited at an ancient ford. As always the Normans built a castle there.





Bridge at the ford.





Norman castle, enlarged and fortified in later centuries.





Later owners of more peaceful times left the old castle where it was and built a Tutor castle nearby so they could see it out their front windows. I didn't take a picture of it, but here it is.

You can also see the later castle-the-is-a-house in this vid of the dragon throne that sits on the lawn without warning or explanation.




Magnificent. Who made it? Why? On what occasion?

Later I learned that Cork County Council commissioned Will Fogarty to create a sculpture after the tree that stood here was destroyed in a storm.





Snowbells and castle.

Mallow has no sheela-na-gigs, but it has a Lady's Well just off the main street called Dog's Well for an obvious reason once you arrive at it.




Maybe this is the what's left of an 18th century spa?

In 1724, discovered curative springs were discovered in Mallow. The town was founded as a Spa town, and it became a holiday health retreat from 1730 to 1810. The curative season began in April and lasted to October. The town began to fashion itself after Bath, building promenades, throwing balls, creating a Long Room, and even bottling spa water to sell in Cork city. The town became known for the wild men who loved to drink, gamble, and hunt - someone called them the Rakes of Mallow.

Beauing, belling, dancing, drinking
Breaking windows, damning, sinking
Ever raking, never thinking
Live the rakes of Mallow

Spending faster than it comes
Beating waiters, bailiffs, duns
Bacchus’ true begotten sons
Live the rakes of Mallow

One time naught but claret drinking
Then like politicians, thinking
Raise the sinking funds when sinking
Live the rakes of Mallow

When at home with dada dying
Still for Mallow-water crying
But where there is claret plying
Live the rakes of Mallow

Living short, but merry lives
Going where the devil drives
Having sweethearts, but no wives
Live the rakes of Mallow

Racking tenants, stewards teasing
Swiftly spending, slowly raising
Wishing to spend all their days
As the rakes of mallow

Then to end this raking life
They get sober, take ‘a wife
Ever after live in. strife
And wish again for Mallow

Perhaps best they don't teach children to sing along while they dance.