The O Neil’s once ruled Ulster from their hilltop castle at Dungannon, they ruled for five centuries but all traces of their medieval castle has disappeared and in its place stands a Georgian mansion.
Our reason for visiting Dungannon was chiefly to explore the Linen Green, a refurbished Linen mill on the outskirts of the town, formerly the mill was named after the ancient village Moygashel. Moygashel Mill was established around 1795 by Huguenot weavers who fled from French persecution, it became a principle center of the Irish linen industry and for two hundred years provided work for many skilled textile workers. Today the complex houses Craft, Designer, and high-end outlet stores.
The Design and Visitor Center showcases exhibitions by top class textile designers plus an exhibition on the rich industrial and textile history of the area. The center’s refurbishing reflects the characteristics of a village; its shop fronts in colours of ochre’s, pinks and yellows and stone walkways blend in with the streetscape of earlier times.
We purchased some lovely linens taking advantage of overseas shipments and affordable prices. The handmade crafts were very tempting and of top quality alas, not in our budget.
We had lunch in the Loft coffee bar at the visitor center, high ceilings, gleaming wood floors and comfy couches around the room, its size being very indicative of its mill theme. The loft specializes in local food and everything is fresh, it can get crowded because of coach parties but we were lucky we visited on a slow day (Monday).
Opening times: Mon through Saturday from 10am to 5pm. Disabled access available.
On our way back to Creggan we stopped in Dungannon, finding a convenient parking spot close by the Market Square. Dungannon is a splendid town (12,000 inhabitants), filled with flowers and well kept locally owned stores. The shopping and business area radiates from the market square, a narrow warren of steep streets. A row of attractive Georgian and Victorian buildings ablaze with fuchsia boxes and masses of greenery can be viewed on your way into the town, even the main traffic circle was filled with shrubs of all hues and a circle of flowered butterfly wreaths in a riot of purples and yellows.
A major building of interest was the former police station; at first glance it looks like a castle with protruding openings for missile throwing. Legend has it that the building plans were mixed up and the plans for this station were originally intended as a fort designed to guard the Khyber Pass. Presently the area around the station is undergoing construction and it was difficult to obtain a photograph, however, I did get the turrets.
We continued our stroll, in the space of a hundred yards we pass two florists, a greengrocer, two cafes, an antique shop, and an equal number of pubs; to our surprise one of them had our name on it and as one cannot possibly pass up the chance to connect long lost ancestors, and so we entered, gasping through a fug of cigarette smoke, unlike the republic, smoking is legal in Ulster’s public buildings. Once our eyes adjusted we noticed two of the barstools were occupied by a bearded construction worker and a clean shaven fellow in a natty suit, background music was low and a television was on without the sound. We ordered Guinness, a pint for Neil and a small one for me (with blackcurrant to take off the tarry taste). The barman poured the drinks following the ritual of letting it stand for a few minutes to allow it to settle, I am convinced that in Ireland all barmen use this settling time to ask you who you are, where you are from, and why you are here. We tell him our story and our name. The other customers listen and nod. The bartender was not a Hagan but the natty black suit was definitely a talker, he knew loads of Hagan’s in this “very town” and began a thirty minute bombardment of complex historical and genealogical detail that is par for the course in the world of Gaelic heraldry. I will say this he was very articulate, (what Irishman isn’t?). A pleasant interlude in a very pleasant town.