This one, sitting in open pasture on the edge of Mitchelstown in north Cork, carries the designation without any of the supporting evidence. Roughly a hundred metres south-southwest of a nearby burial ground, it presents itself as a plain, trapezoidal opening lined with concrete, its water directed away through a pipe to the south. Nothing about its current form suggests votive use, pattern days, or the kind of accumulated folk devotion that typically marks a site as sacred.

The tension at the heart of this place is a familiar one in Irish archaeology. Wells become holy through layers of association, some stretching back to pre-Christian water veneration, others accumulating more gradually around local saints or healing traditions. The label, once applied, tends to persist even when the evidence for it thins out or disappears entirely. In this case, the well sits close enough to a burial ground to suggest that some historic connection between the two may have once existed, or at least been imagined, but no physical or documentary trace of religious practice survives. What remains is a utilitarian structure doing the plain work of draining water from the land.