Work and employment

For people of a certain age, when they think of Doagh they think of the mill – Doagh Flax Spinning Mill. The mill was founded in the mid nineteenth century, on the site that had been occupied by John Rowan’s foundry in Doagh. A large new mill, four storeys high, was built on this site c. 1920.

In the 1940s, due to flax shortages as a result of World War II, synthetic fibres were introduced to the production process. This proved a success and a new factory was built on the Kilbride Road in the early 1950s. At their busiest, the two mills were employing 550 people. However, changes in the market resulted in the closure of the premises on the Kilbride Road. The original mill continued to operate, but it too closed in the early 1990s. The old mill building has now been converted into apartments. ‘You can’t picture it now not being there’ reflects Sarah McTrustry who began work in Doagh mill around 1930.



Doagh Mill was one of a number of industrial enterprises in and around Doagh. Not far away at Burnside was Cogry Flax Spinning Mill which was established in 1845 and was particularly associated with the McMeekin family. Many of the workers lived in the now demolished Cogry Square. On the evening of Friday, 25 February 1944 there was a disastrous fire at Cogry Mill which was blamed on an employee failing to make sure that a hot bearing had cooled before leaving work. This was a major setback, but the mill was repaired and brought back into use. Though Cogry Mill was one of the most progressive mills of its day – its early use of electricity was particularly innovative – it too was the victim of changing markets and closed in the late 1950s. The mill buildings were used until recently by an engineering firm. Another major employer was the bleachworks at Springvale, just north of Burnside. These establishments provided considerable employment, especially for women. Wallace Fenton, who grew up in Mill Row, Doagh, remembers a line of buses at the mill, bringing workers from far and wide.

The experiences of those who worked in these mills varied considerably. Isabell Cooper recalls that her sister Lily left school at 14 and went into Doagh mill. However, it was a bad experience for her. Her boss was very strict and hard on the new employees, while the older staff were also difficult to work with. Lily left the mill, therefore, and got a job in Mossley Mill, cycling there and back, summer and winter. In fact, none of Isabell’s family liked Doagh Mill, or ‘old prison’ as they referred to it. On the other hand, Sarah McTrustry recalled having a good relationship with her bosses in Doagh Mill. She was paid £1 16s 3d. for a fortnight’s work, of which she was allowed to keep 3d. for sweets, her mother taking the rest. Wilma McVittie started working in Cogry mill in her mid teens. She remembers finishing school on a Friday and started in the mill on the following Monday. She too passed most of her pay to her mother. She describes Cogry Mill as ‘homely’. Wilma worked in the reeling room and what was referred to as the ‘canary cage’.

One of Sarah McTrustry’s bosses in Doagh Mill was William Andrew Turkington. He had previously worked in Cogry Mill which he thoroughly enjoyed: ‘It definitely was a great place – Cogry Mill and Cogry … there’s no doubt.’ William Andrew’s first job in Cogry, at the age of 14, was doffing – a doffer was a worker who replaced the full bobbins with empty ones. He remembers Cogry as a great place to learn – it was strict, but if you showed the right aptitude you were taught well. He worked in Cogry for quite a while before moving to Doagh mill where he was employed as a preparing master. When he was offered this job he told the bosses of Doagh Mill that he did not think he was capable of doing it. However, they told him that he was and so he accepted the position.



Leith Burgess’s father worked in Cogry Mill as a nightwatchman, fireman and stoker. Leith himself wanted to put his name down as a fitter at Cogry, but it was closing down at this time. He then tried to find work in Doagh Mill, but was told that he stood little chance as positions there tended to be handed down from one generation to the next. However, he was determined to put his name down and before his fifteenth birthday was offered a position at the new factory on the Kilbride Road, starting off with loading lorries and cleaning machinery.

After briefly working in Cogry Mill, Isabell Cooper started in Springvale in August 1949 when she was 17½, spending most of her working life there. She calls it ‘a great place’ where there was a very good relationship between the bosses and employees. She left work to have each of her children, but each time returned again. Another employee of Springvale was Wilma McVittie’s father who was renowned for the great care he took of the Springvale lorry.

Fishing in Lough Neagh

When most people think of Toome they think of the eel fishery. Fishing for eels in Lough Neagh has been going on for centuries. There are records of fifth-century monks along the loughshore catching eels for their oil which was used in lamps. In 1830 one visitor to the area noted: ‘Toome is famous for its eel fishery’.

Until the twentieth century, however, fishing in Lough Neagh was primarily focused on pollan, a freshwater whitefish unique to Ireland. By the 1930s fishermen were concentrating more on eels for which they were receiving better prices, though pollan fishing did experience a revival in the Second World War. Today Lough Neagh is home to the largest commercial eel fishery in Europe.



Matt Quinn was born into a family that has fished in Lough Neagh for generations. He grew up in Moortown, Ardboe, on the west side of Lough Neagh, home to the largest community of fishermen around the lough. There Quinn is one of the most common names, so much so that the different families are known by nicknames. His Quinns were known as the ‘Laddies’. ‘We were all brought up on the lough’, reflects Matt, pointing out that he was one of five sons (John, Philip, Charlie, Peter and Matt), all of whom fished. At one time they had three boats on the lough. Matt started going out on the boats when he was nine or ten. He explains that he was big for his age and was regularly in demand: ‘I had a good interest in it and if any boat along the area was a man short I would have pulled in.’

In the early 1940s, when Matt was eleven, his family moved to the northern shore of the lough to an area known as The Three Islands. His father, Peter, had purchased a farm of 20 acres, as well as a house and outbuildings, thinking it would be a handier place from which to fish. Matt lives in the same house today. Though he may say with a slight smile, ‘that’s why we were so poor’ in response to a question about the family’s longstanding associations with the fishing industry, there is no doubt that the life of a fisherman is neither easy nor lucrative. It can, however, be deeply satisfying. As Matt now reflects: ‘It’s a hard life, the fishing, but it’s enjoyable too. … Whenever you got a good catch you were on top of the world.’

The farm helped to supplement the fishing. They had a couple of cows that provided their milk and they made their own butter with a plunge churn. They also grew some potatoes and cereals on land they took in conacre. A few pigs were also kept. During the quiet season for fishermen, his father might have hired himself out to a farmer. However, when asked if his father was a fisherman who farmed or a farmer who fished, Matt is very clear that his father was first and foremost a fisherman. For health reasons his father had to give up fishing when he was about 70, but he retained a keen interest in the lough, as Matt recalls: ‘When we would have come in, he wasn’t long asking you what you got and where were you at.’

Having been out on the water for nearly three-quarters of a century, Matt has an immense knowledge of Lough Neagh and its fish. In later years Matt’s understanding of the lough was put to good use when he worked as a boatman for the Freshwater Laboratory of the University of Ulster at Traad Point on Lough Neagh. Despite his experience he is far from complacent about the potential dangers of working on the water. ‘You have to respect the lough’, he cautions, pointing out that in March and April especially the wind can come in very suddenly and make boating dangerous. He is all too aware of this personally for on 26 November 1948 his brother Peter was drowned in the lough. Matt still has clear memories of the moment he was told this tragic news.

In his interview Matt talked about the nets used, pegging lines (which took about three hours), baits (got mainly from around the shore), and the fishing seasons (pollan was fished from February to May; at one time the eel season did not start until June, but it is now 1 May). He used nets to fish for scale-fish – trout, perch, pike and pollan. When landed, these had to be sorted into different boxes which were then collected by the local fish merchant, William John Johnston. Some of the scale fish were sold locally, from house to house. He points out that one bad spawning season for pollan could affect fishermen for two or three years.


Eels were caught using lines that were set in the evening and lifted again early the next morning. At one time he might have gone out as early as 3am, but this was later curtailed to 4.30am. At times you could get a ‘real big catch’, perhaps 2 stones to a hundred hooks (typically they would have had 600 hooks). Once the eels were landed it was vital to keep them alive. They were, therefore, put into tanks into which water was pumped. They were then lifted in a lorry and taken to the fishery in Toome. Ultimately, they were transported to the famous fish market in Billingsgate, London. Today, most of the eels are exported to the Continent.

Matt has seen many changes to fishing in Lough Neagh in the course of his lifetime. The lough was ‘black with boats’ when he was younger. He reckons that there were over 300 fishing boats on the lough with 3 men to every boat. He points out that one of the reasons for the higher number of fishermen in the past was that there were fewer alternatives sources of employment. This was especially true in those rural areas adjoining the lough. It is also true that today the size of the catches is nowhere near what it once was. Now an eel catch of half a stone to a hundred hooks would be considered good. Despite this, Matt remains optimistic for the future of fishing on Lough Neagh.

Shops and shopkeepers

Local shops provided most of the necessities that could not be produced by the household itself. Grocery shops often offered a delivery service and many of those interviewed indicated that a high proportion of their groceries were delivered to their home. Andersons in Doagh supplied much of the surrounding district with groceries.

Annie Hill recalls that a Mr Barkley from Burnside would call at her home and collect the order for groceries from Andersons which would then be delivered on a Friday. Robert McConnell remembered the groceries from Andersons being delivered on a ‘horse and four-wheeler’ driven by a man called Gailey. Derek Lorimer recalls that a grocery van called once a week, while bread servers came on a Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and a butcher called on a Wednesday and on a Friday evening. Greta Milliken also had her groceries delivered: ‘All the grocery shopping was done from the grocer in Ballycarry. He came round for your order and then delivered it probably the next day. You got everything from him.’ Kathleen McKenna remembers the excitement of the breadman calling to her childhood home in Whitehead: ‘It was lovely to see all the big, big trays being pulled out … it was like an Aladdin’s cave.’

Gerry McCann’s grocery shop is the oldest business in Toome, having been founded by his father James in 1917. Gerry has been involved with the business from his childhood. When he was younger he went out in the shop’s grocery van, making deliveries in a 10-12-mile radius of Toome. He also recalls people calling at their shop in Toome in a pony and trap for their weekly shopping. In the days before pre-packed food, items such as tea were weighed out, while cheese was cut with a knife by the shopkeeper to whatever size was wanted, Goods purchased could have been wrapped up in paper for the customer to take home. In the shop Gerry remembers that they ‘had to have a wee bit of tick’ to allow people to pay for their groceries as they could afford them. He pointed out that it was frequently the case that groceries were paid for with eggs. Leslie Bell remembers his mother would have five or six cases of eggs waiting for the grocer with the result that instead of his mother handing over money to the grocer, it was often the other way round.

Edmund McLarnon’s father had been the manager of Duneane creamery at Moneynick near Toome. At one stage his parents were giving serious consideration to emigrating to New Zealand. However, having been persuaded to stay, they decided to start up their own grocery business. A shed was built and Edmund’s father bought a Ford lorry so that he could make deliveries. This had a large wooden container on it with four drawers which were packed with ‘the basics of the day’, such as tea, sugar, butter, lard, bacon, flour and wheatmeal. He also carried bags of animal feed on the back of the lorry – mostly dairy meal in 10-stone bags and Correndo (the trade name for flaked maize) as well pig meal. There was also a retail shop which was attached to their home. The feed bill would have been squared up by the farmers after the harvest when their potatoes and oats had been sold.

As the largest of the three settlements, Whitehead had the biggest range of shops. There were several grocers in Whitehead. Trevor Monteith’s maternal grandparents, the Flemings, owned the main grocery business in the town. Another grocery business was run by Dan Gillen in Chester Avenue which was visited by Kathleen McKenna.

Kathleen McKenna remembers shopping in Whitehead:

When I used to go and do the grocery shopping Mummy gave me a list and I went to Dan Gillen and you brought a certain amount home. But then on a Saturday you went down and you left your order in and the young boy came up on a bicycle and delivered it to you. I can remember Dan Gillen weighing out tea and sugar and the different smells in the shop … Dan Gillen had everything in the shop.


John Wilson also remembered the ‘great grocery shops’ in Whitehead, where the service was excellent, and two butchers and a fish shop. From 1962 to 1978 the Post Office in Whitehead was run by Edward Crampton. Previously he had been in charge of the Post Office in Ballygally. His son Victor points out that the Post Office in Whitehead included a sorting office for three postmen: ‘My father used to receive the mail at 5 o’clock in the morning and then the postmen would come in at 6 o’clock’. The Post Office also sold cards, stationary and toys.

In 1950, the Lamont family moved from near Portglenone to Ballycarry when James’ father , Robert, purchased a general store in the centre of the village. Prior to this Robert Lamont had owned a small shop which had been started by James’ grandfather. The shop in Ballycarry sold a range of hardware goods, drapery and groceries. The business also included a mobile shop. In his interview James talked fondly of the care with which his father ran his business and the pride he took in making sure his customers were satisfied. He also enjoyed a very good relationship with his staff. Drawing attention to the reconstructed shops in the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, James comments, ‘I can identify with those completely because my Dad’s shop was exactly the same.’

James Lamont recalls his father’s shop:

Everything was fresh. Dad would have gone on a Thursday to Belfast and he would have bought his bacon – that was fresh into the shop. … Once there was there anything going wrong with that bacon it was out. But the turnover seemed to be that fast that it didn’t happen in any large measure, even in the summer months.

The shop’s customer catchment area would have extended as far as Whitehead. James also remembers his mother buying meet from Sammy Haveron, the butcher in Whitehead, who would have made deliveries to Ballycarry. For the Lamonts the main reason for travelling to Whitehead would have been to visit the chemist or dentist. Growing up just a couple of miles from Whitehead, James’ impression of the town was that it was ‘a lovely clean place to live in’. He also remembers the Silver Strand which sold ice-cream.

Through the countryside there were small shops, though the range of goods that they sold varied considerably and in some cases could be quite limited. Matt Quinn remembers a small shop around a mile and a half away from his home at the Three Islands that sold sweets and minerals. Owen Gribbin recalled that near his childhood home lived Mary Ann McKeever who had a shop in a room in her house. There you could have bought 10 ‘merry maids’ (chocolate-covered caramels) for a penny.

Commuting from Whitehead

Whitehead was different from Doagh and Toome in that most of those in work there were not employed in the town, but elsewhere, usually Belfast. John Milliken’s impression of Whitehead when he was a child was that it was a ‘dormitory-type town for business people’.

Brian McKenna also described Whitehead as a ‘dormitory town’ where the inhabitants tended to work in Belfast unless they had a shop or other small business. Brian himself worked for a time in Watson’s furniture business in Belfast, while his wife Kathleen worked as a typist for the Ulster Transport Authority in Linenhall Street, Belfast. Eithne McKendry’s father, Samuel Moore, was in the civil service and worked at Stormont. Trevor Monteith began work in 1952 in the Belfast Bank (later the Northern Bank and now the Danske Bank). As Eithne points out, the departure of so many workers left Whitehead a rather quiet place during the day.

Brian McKenna also described Whitehead as a ‘dormitory town’ where the inhabitants tended to work in Belfast unless they had a shop or other small business. Brian himself worked for a time in Watson’s furniture business in Belfast, while his wife Kathleen worked as a typist for the Ulster Transport Authority in Linenhall Street, Belfast. Eithne McKendry’s father, Samuel Moore, was in the civil service and worked at Stormont. Trevor Monteith began work in 1952 in the Belfast Bank (later the Northern Bank and now the Danske Bank). As Eithne points out, the departure of so many workers left Whitehead a rather quiet place during the day.

What facilitated easy access to Belfast was of course the railway which made it possible to be in the city less than half an hour after leaving Whitehead. According to Brian McKenna, the trains leaving Whitehead ‘were solid, you couldn’t have got on to them hardly’. Furthermore, ‘everything went by train, cows, chickens, people’. Brian recalls farmers driving cattle down Cable Road to have them loaded on to the trains at the excursion platform. Kathleen McKenna’s father, Patrick O’Neill, worked as a signalman at Whitehead station. Others she remembers working at the station in Whitehead included porters and clerical workers who dealt with the delivery of freight and parcels.