PADDY JACKMAN: THE POET OF BENNETTSBRIDGE by Peggy Walpole

Paddy Jackman was born in Barronsland, Bennettsbridge in 1875. He was one of 10 children of William and Mary Jackman. The other members of the family were Thomas, William, Martin, Denis, Walter, Robert, Anastatia, Margaret and Mary. Paddy never married. He lived for the greater part of his life with his brother William and in later years with his grand-nephew Kieran Power. He worked for many years with the Aylward Family of Blackwell. He died on November 22nd 1971 at the great age of 96.

He was a thin, lively, gentle-natured man who had very varied interests. He was a keen and gifted gardener - a hobby he pursued to the end of his days. He acquired over the years a vast knowledge of flowers and shrubs and also of vegetable gardening. He loved nature and the countryside and enjoyed nothing better than a long walk through the fields or down by the river. As a young man he was a member of the Barronsland Cricket Team. Cricket was popular at the time and the local games were played in a field near his house known as 'Galway's Bog.'

From his earliest years Paddy was an avid reader. He often swopped books with friends and neighbours and seldom returned from the village without a few borrowed volumes under his arm. Autobiographies were his favourite but he also enjoyed travel and adventure stories. Throughout his life he was blessed with good health and perfect sight and he read without glasses until the day he died. He also had a great memory and a keen interest in local history, particularly family history and visitors to the locality from America and Australia looking up their roots were regular callers to his house seeking help.

Paddy had a natural gift of poetry and began writing when quite young. He wrote for the most part of local places, events, happenings and personalities. Unfortunately most of his poems - which were written into copy-books - were lost. Many were lent to acquaintances and were never returned so that after his death only a small selection could be found. Some of the older residents of Bennettsbridge could remember odd verses from his earlier poems but sadly these were not recorded. A number of years ago a few of the remaining ones were published by local publican Jim Nolan, and only for this fortunate event almost all of Paddy's poetry would have been lost forever. The poems included in this booklet were:

1) THE BAWSHEEN BY THE NORE which he wrote for his niece Eileen Sadler who came from Perth to meet her relative's. Eileen's mother was Anastatia Jackman who had emigrated to Australia in 1897. The BAWSHEEN is a beautiful bubbling spring by the Nore in Woollengrange.

As well as these Paddy himself, many years ago, gave me a further poem entitled GAELS OF LONG AGO. This was written to honour the victory of Bennettsbridge Hurling Team in the 1890 County Senior Championships, the first such to come to the 'Bridge.

The teams in those days had 21 players and the Bennettsbridge team on that day were as follows: John Cody, Michael Dullard, Michael Cranny, Tom Nolan, Michael Greene, Paul Doyle, P. Finnegan, Pierce Cody, Michael Brady, John Foley, Michael Holohan, Tom Greene, J. Brady, James Dunne, John Kennedy, Denis Foley, Michael Shortall, Tom Power, P. Reidy, J. Dunne and W. Doyle (capt.).

GAELS OF LONG AGO (1890)
1		2
I have seen our young Gaels hurling		They called themselves St. Kieran's
In the valley by the Nore		And they upheld the name,
And their colours brought me back again		For lose or win they were sportsmen
To the far off days of yore.		And always played the game.
For the men that wore those colours		The team then numbered twenty-one,
They were my pride and joy,		And the green and gold they wore,
And that field so green at Loughboreen		And they kept those colours waving
It was my Fontenoy.		O'er the village by the Nore.

3		4
Well I recall the Sunday		And now at the last minute
They met the men of Graine,		It was our captain Bill,
Thieves for the Semi-Final		The way he scored that winning goal
That was a thrilling game.		Remains a mystery still.
For near an hour the game was on		And now the final whistle goes
And yet there was no score,		It's the ending of the game.
And it looked blue, I'm telling you,		And the wearers of the green and gold
For the Gaels beside the Nore.		Are victorious once again.

5		6
And now the County Final,		Ah many long years have passed since then
It's Callan of renown,		And now I'm old and grey,
That match was played at Haggard, Kells,		But still I'm seeing the meadow green
It was for the Hurling Crown.		Where my stars they shone by day.
That game was rough but the men were tough,		But I see no more the surging crowd,
And when the match was o'er		No more the green-clad men,
The bonfires they were blazing		No more I hear the ringing cheer
On the green hills o'er the Nore.		Go echoing through the glen.
		For beside the little chapel
		Wrapped in their robes of green
		Lie the Gaels of old whose tale is told,
		And the Nore croons their Requiem.

THE BAWSHEEN BY THE NORE
1		2
I often dream of the laughing stream		It was there you plucked the violets blue,
Down in the valley green,		The water lilies tall,
The valley where we used to roam		While loud and clear the thrush sang near,
In the long ago, Eileen.		From the groves of Maidenhall.
The little stream, it still sings on,		The rustic stile where we sat Eileen
Tho' you hear it's song no more,		Where the hawthorn blossomed o'er,
And the cress Eileen, is once more green,		Now to you and me a memory,
At the Bawsheen by the Nore.		Of the old well by the Nore.

3
And as those lines recall old times,
Perhaps your thoughts may roam,
To the friends you knew and who miss you,
In their far off Irish home;
For day by day they hope and pray,
'Ere life's short span is o'er,
To meet Eileen, in the valley green,
At the Bawsheen by the Nore.