They arrived in the wind and snow on a freezing Saturday morning when sensible people would have remained in bed. But the doughty men and women of the Ulster Unionist Council (UCC) were far from unhappy as they made their way into Belfast's Waterfront Hall.
Peter Mandelson had suspended the political institutions, of which many UUC members had been wary. The Shinners weren't down, but they were on the ropes. And international opinion generally thought David Trimble couldn't have done any more.
The normal complaints were absent. There wasn't a mention of perfidious Albion. For once, anti-agreement activists couldn't find fault with their leader. The token loyalist protesters shouting "sell-out" didn't bother to turn up.
Posters inside the Waterfront advertised the dance troupe Gael Force, but even that display of Celtic culture couldn't rile the rank and file. "Those boys can certainly lift their legs," said one.
The meeting lasted two hours. So relaxed were UUP press officers that they sipped cappuccinos with journalists in the Waterfront's terrace cafe and discussed their hangovers rather than engage in their usual frenetic activity.
John Taylor was smiling. "He is very happy with the turn of events," confided a party insider.
Leaflets were distributed announcing a forthcoming conference, Women 2000. One of the organisers is Daphne Trimble. "A bunch of radical feminists no doubt," said a reporter.
When the meeting ended, Mr Trimble addressed the media. He was all laughs and jokes, affectionately referring to the UUC president, Sir Josias Cunningham, as Joe. There had been no need for his resignation letter to be given to Mr Mandelson, the UUP leader said. Joe had it now. It had joined "his invaluable collection of historical documents".
Mr Trimble announced he had agreed to let the UUC have the final say on any future entry into an executive with Sinn Fein. The Shinners hadn't delivered - "We jumped first and it ended up we jumped alone." He wasn't impressed with 11th hour statements from the party or late offers from the Provisional IRA.
"Even in the last few days and minutes of this process, they were still scrabbling around in ways about which I am not exactly clear." The Provos had been "all claim and no detail". Vague statements on decommissioning were not enough. Mr Trimble wanted to know if, when, and how.
He held up a finger to highlight each demand and then expressed mock concern in case it was thought he was being rude. "I hope those fingers look presentable in the photographs."
The UUP wasn't standing alone, he said. The SDLP, the Catholic Church and President Clinton all acknowledged the need for decommissioning. Mr Trimble looked more relaxed than he has this year. No wonder. He received 95 per cent support in a show of hands by delegates.
It still wasn't enough for some. By early afternoon, a dozen anti-agreement protesters had gathered at the Waterfront. They wore "No Surrender" scarves and waved the obligatory plastic Union flags. "No more jumping, it's time to stand firm," said their posters.
"Traitors!" they yelled as UUP leaders left the building. "They're like the IRA, they ran away." Mr Trimble ignored the shouts. His deputy, John Taylor, waved back regally.