Category Archives: Historic Ruins

The Real Deel



The ruins of the late 18th century Deel Castle, otherwise known as Castle Gore, in County Mayo have featured here before (see Sent Up in Flames « The Irish Aesthete) but rather confusingly the remains of a second, older building with the same name stand close by. The original Deel Castle – which might be classified as the real Deel – is a tower house sitting above the river Deel, thought to date from the 16th century when constructed by the Bourke family, then dominant in this part of the country. Like so many other such buildings, it is rectangular but larger than usual, of four storeys and with a substantial bartizan on the south-west corner of the roofline, above which rise tall, narrow chimneystacks. As is also typical of tower houses, there is only one point of access, a modest arched doorcase on the west side. It remained in the possession of the Bourke family until the late 17th century when, after Colonel Thomas Bourke had fought on the side of King James in the Williamite Wars, the property was forfeited and granted to Sir Arthur Gore.




Born in London, Paul Gore (created a baronet in 1622) had come to Ireland in the late 16th century in the service of Elizabeth I as commander of a troop of horse and eventually settled in County Donegal, representing Ballyshannon for a number of years in the Irish House of Commons. Arthur Gore (created a baronet in 1662) was his second son, and likewise both a soldier and politician, becoming High Sheriff of both Mayo and County Galway, and later of Leitrim. Having settled in Mayo, he received the Bourkes‘ former property, Castle Deel and in due course, his son having predeceased him, passed this to his grandson, also called Arthur Gore. When Mrs Delany visited the place in 1732, she noted, ‘tis an old castle patched up and very irregular, but well fitted up and good handsome rooms within. The master of the house, Arthur Gore, a jolly red-faced widower, has one daughter, a quiet thing that lives in the house with him; his dogs and horses are as dear to him as his children, his laugh is hearty, though his jests are course.’ The second baronet’s son, yet another Arthur, was created Earl of Arran in 1762. It would appear that the family continued to live in Deel Castle but towards the end of the 18th century, the estate was leased to James Cuff, first (and last) Lord Tyrawley who built the now-ruined house within sight of the old castle. Cuff’s mother Elizabeth was a sister of Lord Arran, which helps to explain why he should have been granted a lease on the place. Lord Tyrawley had no legitimate heirs, although he had two illegitimate sons by an actress, one of whom, James Duff, lived in the new Deel Castle until his death in 1828, after which that building reverted back to the third Earl of Arran. As for the old castle, it was occupied by Colonel St George Cuff, thought to have been the illegitimate son of James Cuff; the colonel’s wife Louisa Maria Knox Gore, was descended in the maternal line from the second Earl of Arran, making the family connection clearer. It was only after the colonel’s death in 1883 that the old castle likewise returned to the Gores and remained with them until after 1921 when the new house was burnt by the IRA and left the ruin still seen today.




As already mentioned, the original Deel Castle was a substantial tower house. To the east of this, possibly as early as the 17th century, an extension was built which was probably further improved in the 18th century. A bartizan on the south-east corner of the extension certainly suggests an early date, since it would come from a time when the occupants of the building would consider themselves vulnerable to attack. In any case, this section is of three storeys and five bays, with a limestone Gibbsian doorcase on the groundfloor. The outline of a gable on the eastern side of the facade indicates that a further building once stood here, perhaps to match that which still extends forward immediately beyond the tower house to the west, thereby creating a courtyard in front of the building. Little remains inside either the original or the later structure, the roof long gone, along with the various floors, windows and chimneypieces: the external walls alone now survive. This decay has occurred only in the past 100 years since, unlike its neighbour, Deel Castle was not burnt during the early 1920s but still occupied. Only afterwards was it abandoned, and left to fall into the present state of ruin. 


Just a Skeleton



The skeleton of the former Roman Catholic chapel in Hugginstown, County Kilkenny. This building was constructed c.1800, in other words almost three decades before Catholic Emancipation, and had an interior that preserved its original decoration, a rare survivor from that period. However, as so often is the case, this was judged to be outdated and forty years ago the church was put out of service, with  a singularly unimpressive replacement erected elsewhere in the village. The interior was subsequently dismantled and the roof removed, so that today only the shell seen here remains. 


A Stout Burial Place



Inside a walled enclosure overlooking the plains of County Kildare, the church of Oughterard (from the Irish Uachtar Árd, meaning ‘a high place’) is thought to have been originally established in the sixth or seventh centuries, although the present buildings are of later date. What remains of what must once have been a substantial religious settlement are a truncated round tower and a barrel-vaulted chancel with a 14th century three-light window at the east end. Much of the nave has been lost, but on the south wall is the burial site of Arthur Guinness, founder of a certain well-known Irish business. The reason he was entombed here: his maternal grandfather William Read was a tenant farmer in this part of the country (and, it is sometimes said, Arthur Guinness was born in his mother’s family house when she returned there for the event).


A Spacious Piece of Antiquity


‘Whilst there is scarcely an old castle, abbey or ruin of any pretensions throughout the length and breadth of Green Erin, since the introduction of cheap literature, that has not been over and over described till we have naturally began to tire of their repetition, is it not strange that none of these popular writers have as yet attempted a description of the many remnants of antiquity abounding in Clonmore in the County of Carlow, particularly its venerable castle? From Ben-Hadir to Ben-Urris, from Donaghadee to Dingle, there is scarcely a place whose particular beauties have not at some time been duly chronicled; guide books in variety too, have been given to the public of Antrim and Cork, of Wicklow and Kerry, and every picturesque locality round our island; yet amongst them all, poor Clonmore – but a few hours drive (only thirty-five Irish miles) from the metropolis – has been completely unheeded and neglected. None of the Penny Journals published by Folds or Coldwell, Hardy, or Gunn and Cameron have even mentioned its name! Grose, in his Antiquities of Ireland, published in 1791-3, has given two neat views of the castle, which the Author of these pages is happy to say he has a few copies of; but then Dr. Ledwich, who furnished the descriptive portion of that work, on account of Grose’s premature death, has dismissed the subject in a few lines. Lewis’ Topographical Dictionary and Ryan’s History of the County Carlow, both of their accounts of the castle and its antiquities are meagre enough, and incorrect in some particulars, which I intend to point out as I proceed; and, with the exception of these three publications, no recent writer that I could come at has ever favoured us with even a single line on the subject.’
From The Antiquities and History of Cluain-Mor-Maedhoc, Now Clonmore by John MacCall (1862)





Clonmore Castle: The spacious piece of antiquity of this place is situate near Hacketstown, and in the barony of Rathvilly. In shape it is square; one hundred and seventy feet by the same. The castle has towers at each angle, and is surrounded by a fosse, of about twenty feet in depth. The walls are five feet thick; and the narrow, stone-cased windows were obviously furnished with iron bars. One of the side walls has disappeared, but the other three are in good preservation and, if unassailed by the Gothic hands of man, will probably resist the tooth of Time for ages to come. The demolished wall, was no doubt removed in order to procure ingress to two or three cabins and their appurtenances, which classically ornament the interior. Indeed, I have been credibly informed, that part of the window-cases now serve the very ignoble purpose of forming part of the materials of some pig-sties! But such desecration of ancient works of art, by the unthinking and ignorant, is not at all an uncommon circumstance in this country.’
From The History And Antiquities Of The County Of Carlow by John Ryan (1833) 





‘Cromwell’s army landed in Dublin in August 1649 and in 1650 the Cromwellian colonels, Hewson and Reynolds, captured the castle and ordered it to be slighted so as to make it indefensible, reducing the castle to the ruins that may be seen today. The fortress was both strong and large, square in plan, with high curtain walls defended with a tower at each corner. Although the Parliamentarians destroyed the gatehouse, extensive ruins indicating various halls and chambers remain. The northeast tower, known as the Six Windows, is still well preserved complete with a gargoyle known as “the pooka’s head.” Patrick Wall was granted the castle of Ballynekill (Clonmore) following the restoration of Charles II, together with 69 acres and 1 rood. In 1697, following the Williamite Settlement, what remained of the castle passed into the hands of Ralph Howard of Dublin. He was created Baron Clonmore in 1776, elevated to Viscount Wicklow in 1785, and his son Robert was made Earl of Wicklow in 1793. Clonmore was still in the hands of the Howard family in 1823, but then, around 1900, it passed to the Stopford family, Earls of Courtown.’
From The Byrnes and the O’Byrnes, Vol. II by Daniel Byrne-Rothwell (2010)

Remembering a Valiant Woman


In 1598, at the age of 18 Lettice FitzGerald married Sir Robert Digby, a Warwickshire landowner. Born in 1580, Lettice was the only child of Gerald FitzGerald, eldest son of the 11th Earl of Kildare. However, her father died around the time of her birth, leaving her, she would claim, as heir general to the great FitzGerald estates. Her cousin, who had become 14th Earl of Kildare, begged to differ and so in 1602 Lettice and her husband embarked on a long and costly law suit – the Jacobean equivalent of Jarndyce v Jarndyce – in pursuit of her entitlements. During the course of a legal battle that lasted almost two decades, they were able to prove that the will of Lettice’s grandfather had been fraudulently altered after his death in order to disinherit her, but still the fight continued. Eventually, in 1619 King James I, while rejecting Lettice’s claim to be the 11th Earl’s heir general, granted her and her heirs the manor of Geashill, comprising some 30,000 acres in King’s County (now Offaly), thereby partitioning the FitzGerald patrimony. The following year, the king recognised Lettice as Baroness Offaly for life, on the understanding that after her death the title would revert to the Earls of Kildare.





At the centre of the Geashill estate lay a castle, originally erected in the late 12th or early 13th century by Maurice FitzGerald, second Baron Offaly. For a considerable period during the Middle Ages, this property had been in the hands of the O’Dempsey clan, but was back under the control of the FitzGeralds by the time Lettice was born. It is here that she chose to live following the death of her husband, Sir Robert Digby, in 1618 and the confirmation by the crown of her right to the estate soon afterwards. By then in her early 60s, Lettice was in residence at Geashill Castle at the onset of the Confederate Wars in 1641 and that found herself besieged by the O’Dempseys, to whom she was related. They offered her and her family safe passage if the castle was surrendered, otherwise it would be burnt down. In the face of this threat, she replied ‘Being free from offending His Majesty, or doing wrong to any of you, I will live and die innocently, and will do my best to defend my own, leaving the issue to God.’ The siege was eventually lifted, but renewed the following spring when the attackers arrived with a make-shift cannon: it exploded at the first shot, as did a second attempt using the same device. Meanwhile, as Terry Clain notes in the Dictionary of Irish Biography, Lettice  ‘affected an aristocratic sang-froid in the face of imminent peril.’ Eventually, in October 1642 she was persuaded by allies to leave the property and subsequently retired to live on her late husband’s property in Warwickshire, where she died in 1658. Geashill Castle and the surrounding estate was inherited by her grandson, the second Baron Digby (her eldest son having predeceased her), whose heirs continued to own the property until the last century. 





At some date, perhaps as early as the 17th century, the Digbys built a new house to the immediate east of the old castle, part of which was most likely incorporated into the structure, where material from the abandoned building was probably also reused. The house appears to have been substantial but somewhat plain, of seven bays and two storeys, with a series of service extensions and yards further to the east. The south front had short projecting wings on either side of the central three bays creating a shallow forecourt. In 1860, Dublin architect James Rawson Carroll remodelled the house, adding a porch on the south side, a canted bay window on the ground floor of the north side and cambered arches over the windows on the west. The Digbys chose to live on their English estate, Sherborne Castle in Dorset, so the house at Geashill was occupied by a succession of agents who looked after the family’s Irish property; in the opening decades of the last century, the agent was Reginald Digby, a cousin of Lord Digby. In 1922, Mr Digby needed to go to London for an operation, but was unwilling to leave Geashill Castle unattended, aware that the place would be vulnerable to assault, this being at the height of the Civil War. However, eventually he was required to leave and on August 19th 1922, the building was attacked and burnt. Like other house owners whose property suffered in this way, the Digbys applied for compensation from the courts but because nobody was resident in Geashill Castle at the time, it was argued that the family was entitled to only minimal funding. In consequence, the house was not rebuilt but left as a ruin. Under the terms of the Wyndham Act of 1903, most of the ancient estate had already been sold to tenants and in 1926 the Land Commission took over the demesne, thereby ending a link with this part of the country that stretched back not just to plucky Lettice Digby in the 17th century but as far as the O’Dempseys in the 14th century. 

Remembering What’s Lost



Ireland’s Decade of Centenaries, marking the country’s ten years of transformation 1913-23 is now drawing to a close, but there are still opportunities for analysis and reflection about what happened during that period. On Saturday, October 7th the Irish Aesthete will be participating in County Tipperary’s annual Dromineer Nenagh Literary Festival (celebrating its own 20th anniversary), in conversation with poet Vona Groarke about some of the great houses which were burnt in the early 1920s, many of them never rebuilt and lost forever. One such was Ardfert, County Kerry, set on fire in August 1922. The photographs above show the building before and after the conflagration, while those below are images of the interior, including the panelled hall with its classical grisaille figures, and the splendid main staircase, all lost in that fire, after which the house was pulled down so that nothing survives as a memory of its existence.



For further information about this event and others in the Dromineer Nenagh Literary Festival, please see: Left without a Handkerchief – dnlf

In Solemn Grandeur



‘This lofty and massive building, which rears its high head in solemn grandeur, and seems to look down with fostering protection and watchful guardianship on the town beneath it, was built by Hugh de Lacy, about the year 1140, in the reign of John. Though some difference of opinion exists on this point – some referring it as the work of Eva, daughter of Dermot McMurrough, and others attributing it to Isabel, daughter of Strongbow, and others, to King John, &; but concurrent, circumstantial and historical evidence, fix on de Lacy as the founder. The walls of the tower are of the amazing thickness of seven feet, two inches; the inner diameter of the same ten feet, and the exterior circumference is seventy seven feet. The whole building was amply provided with loop-holes, and with arched and mullioned windows, &, from which to pour, if necessary, on their assailants the sweeping shot of artillery and musketry, or the less destructive missile.’
From the Dublin Penny Journal, Volume III, July 26th 1834





‘The only ancient relic in Carlow is “the Castle.” It is situated on a gentle eminence, overlooking the river; and is said to have been erected by Hugh De Lacy, who was appointed lord-deputy of Ireland in the year 1179. It was built after the Anglo-Norman style of architecture; a square area, surrounded by thick walls, fortified and strengthened at each corner by a large round tower. Until the year 1814, it had bravely withstood the attacks of time and war; but its ruin was effected by the carelessness of a medical doctor, into whose hands it came, and who designed to put it “in order” for the “accommodation” of insane patients. In the progress of his work he applied gunpowder, with some unexplained object, to the foundations, and in a moment completed its destruction, leaving but two of its towers, and the wall between them. Their present height is sixty-five feet, and the length from one tower to the other is one hundred and five feet; as the ruin is but one side of a square, it affords a correct idea of the large space the castle formerly occupied.’
From Ireland: its scenery, character etc. by Mr and Mrs Hall, 1840.


A Pocket Church



Visited on a particularly wet day during this particularly wet summer, here is what remains of the little church at Kilbunny, County Waterford, named after St Munna and originally founded in the 8th century. The present building, with its restored Romanesque arch entrance and chevron moulding, is from the 11th century. Seemingly at one time some 230 monks lived here, but it is difficult to imagine such numbers today: certainly, only a handful of them would fit into the church which only measures about 8.5 metres in length and 5 metres in width. Outside, a faint trace of what was possibly representing a human head, can be discerned at the base of the arch on the right-hand side, while inserted into the wall on the left-hand is an animal head, perhaps that of a ram. On the ground to either side are bullaun stones, it is thought originally used as baptismal or water fonts. 

A Rare Insight


Lisburn, County Antrim was originally called Lisnagarvy (from the Irish Lios na gCearrbhach, meaning Ringfort of the Gamesters) and until the early 17th century was under the control of the O’Neill family. However, the Ulster Plantations meant this part of the country, a territory called Killultagh, passed into the hands of an English adventurer, Sir Fulke Conway, younger son of Sir John Conway of Warwickshire. As early as 1611, Lord Carew who was then passing through the area could write, ‘In our travel from Dromore towards Knockfargus, we saw in Kellultagh upon Sir Fulke Conway’s lands a house of cagework in hand and almost finished, where he intends to erect a bawn of brick in a place called Lisnagarvagh. He has built a fair timber bridge over the river of Lagan near the house.’ Sir Fulke died childless in 1624 and left the lands he had acquired to his older brother, Sir Edward Conway, a soldier and politician who three years later was created Viscount Conway in the English peerage, and Viscount Killultagh in the Irish peerage; a member of the Privy Council and a Secretary of State, in the years prior to his death in 1631 he served as Lord President of the Council. His heir, also called Edward, the second viscount was also a soldier and politician but also an ardent bibliophile: his library in Ireland contained between 8,000 and 9,000 books. On his death in 1655, the estates and titles passed to the third Edward who in 1679 was created first Earl of Conway. He was also the last because, having no heir despite being married three times, on his death the titles became extinct. His property, on the other hand, passed to an eight-year old first-cousin once removed, with the stipulation that he take the surname of the deceased; accordingly, Lisburn and the surrounding lands were inherited by the wonderfully-named Popham Seymour-Conway. Alas, while not yet 25, he was mortally wounded in a drunken duel, and so once more the estates were passed on, this time to his younger brother, Francis Seymour-Conway, who in due course became  Baron Conway of Ragley and Baron Conway of Killultagh in the respective national peerages. In turn, his son was created Marquess of Hertford, and when his descendant, the fourth marquess, died in 1870, he left the greater part of his estate (anything not entailed) to his secretary and illegitimate son, Sir Richard Wallace whose widow, in turn, bequeathed the family’s extraordinary art collection to the English nation, hence the Wallace Collection in London. 




Meanwhile, back in the early 17th century, as has been noted, Sir Fulke Conway began to build a substantial house, known as Lisburn Castle, on his Irish lands. This was in Lisburn, on a site above the river Lagan beside which he laid out the town, arranging for the construction of a market house and square, as well as a new church and several residential streets: settlers from England and Wales were then encouraged to move there. Inevitably, in the early 1640s the town was attacked during the Confederate Wars but survived and continued to flourish; in the aftermath of the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes (1685) large numbers of Huguenots moved here and helped to develop the linen trade, of which Lisburn became the most important centre in Ireland. A terrible fire ravaged the centre of the town in 1707 but it was soon rebuilt and returned to prosperity. The only building of importance not reconstructed in the aftermath of the conflagration was the Conway residence above the Lagan. By this time, the property had passed into the hands of the Seymour-Conways, who were absentee landlords and therefore there was no need for them to have a residence in Ireland. 




Because it was destroyed by fire in 1707, the character and appearance of the Conway residence in Lisburn is unknown. However, what do survive are some of the outer walls of the site and a series of terraced gardens that led down to the banks of the Lagan. These gardens were laid out by Edward Conway, third viscount (and first earl) who appears to have been particularly interested in his Irish property. In 1656, a year after the death of his father, he brought over a Dutch gardener to create four terraces on the south-east facing slope that led from the building to the river. These terraces had retaining walls constructed of stone fronted with red brick, and the top of them would likely have been lined with pots containing colourful flowers: in 1667, Lord Conway imported twelve dozen such pots from Ostend. Each terrace was laid out with beds for growing fruit, vegetables and flowers, with a lower one planted as an orchard growing a variety of different apples. The terraces also held a broad gravel path, at the end of one of them being a ‘Dutch tent’, presumably some kind of summerhouse. Again in 1667, Conway ordered some 7,000 painted tiles from Holland for its interior, but only 3,000 of them survived the journey unbroken; his agent advised, ‘a very dear commodity they prove and in these scarce times I think your Lordship may better lay out or keep your money.’ The topmost terrace featured a double-flight stone perron beneath which was a grotto of some kind, with an arched entrance. In the aftermath of the 1707 fire and the failure to reconstruct Lisburn Castle – the site of which eventually became, and remains, a public park, with a late 19th century monument to Sir Richard Wallace at its centre –  these terraced gardens were neglected and fell into dilapidation. However, in 2006-09, the area was excavated and restored, so that now it looks not unlike what Lord Conway intended when he undertook the work in the mid-17th century. Today, they provide a rare insight into horticultural design and practice in Stuart Ireland. 

Honest Tom




Text here…On the banks of the river Fergus in Ennis, County Clare stands a stone known as Steele’s Rock. On this, supposedly, in the early 19th century sat a man called Thomas Steele who used it as a vantage point from which to gaze on a nearby house called Abbeyfield (today a garda station, see: In need of TLC « The Irish Aesthete). Therein lived a young lady, Miss Crowe, with whom Steele was much in love but his passion was not reciprocated and, it seems, she never even troubled to notice her putative suitor. This tale is only one of many told about Thomas Steele, certainly one of the more colourful characters living in Ireland at the time. Born in 1788 to a gentry family, he had been raised by his uncle and namesake at Cullane, a house built just a few years before his birth and beautifully sited on the western shore of Lough Cullaunyheeda: following his uncle’s death in 1821 he inherited the property. Most country gentlemen would have settled down to enjoy their estate, but Thomas Steele was never wont to behave like most country gentlemen. A classical scholar of note, throughout his life he was inclined to become involved in a variety of different projects. In 1825, for example, having undertaken experiments with underwater diving apparatus, he patented ‘Steele’s improved diving-bell.’ and around the same time became a partner in the Vigo Bay Co., which was trying to recover gold and silver bullion from Spanish ships sunk in Vigo Bay in 1702. A complete failure, the company was wound up somewhat acrimoniously in 1826, but this didn’t deter him: an associate of the English diving siblings John and Charles Deane, in 1836 Steele used their new diving helmet to explore the wreck of the Intrinsic soon after he had sunk off the County Clare coast. Interested in developing equipment to provide underwater illumination, four years later he dived with the Deanes to look at the wreck of Henry VIII’s great ship, the Mary Rose, off Portsmouth. But prior to these enterprises, in 1823, he had decided to go to Spain and join rebels fighting against the absolutist monarch Ferdinand VII. Accordingly, he mortgaged the house and land at Cullane for some £10,000, using the funds raised to buy arms and shipping these to Spain. Once there, he joined the Legion Estrenjera of the rebel army, distinguishing himself in the battle of the Trocadero and the defence of  Cadiz. Following the liberals’ defeat, he returned to Ireland and published an account of what he had witnessed,, Notes on the war in Spain (1824). 





A couple of years after returning from Spain, Thomas Steele found another cause with which to become involved: Catholic Emancipation. Which is not to suggest he planned to become a Roman Catholic: he had previously written a letter to the elderly Pope Pius VII urging him to convert to Protestantism. But after meeting Daniel O’Connell, Steele had become an ardent supporter of the latter’s Catholic Association and was soon appointed its Vice-President of the Association. Although he never converted from the Established church, on his land at Cullane he erected an outdoor altar, so that mass could be said there any time O’Connell visited: the ‘altar’ was actually a dolmen cap stone that had previously stood at what was believed to be the dead centre of Ireland near Birr, County Offaly: it has since been returned to its original site). In 1828 Steele seconded O’Connell’s nomination for election in County Clare and was with him with the Catholic Relief Bill of 1829 passed. Strongly supportive of his hero’s repudiation of physical violence and despite being called the ‘Head Pacificator’, Steele was a noted duellist who that same year fought an inconclusive duel with William Smith O’Brien over what he believed to be a personal slight from the latter. More importantly, his total belief in O’Connell, and his personal disregard for money, led him to be popularly known as ‘Honest Tom’. Once Catholic Emancipation had been achieved, he continued to give his support to the next great cause: the repeal of the 1800 Act of Union. Following the government’s prohibition of the Clontarf monster meeting in October 1843, Steele was tried on conspiracy charges and imprisoned with O’Connell in Richmond jail. So closely was he allied with O’Connell that he never recovered from the latter’s death in May 1847 and the following April, suffering from depression and facing financial ruin, he jumped off Waterloo Bridge in London. Although rescued from the water, he never received and died in June 1848. His body returned to Ireland, he was buried in Glasnevin cemetery, Dublin, beside O’Connell’s tomb.





A date stone at Cullane is market 1799, but the house is thought to date from the early 1780s. Of two storeys over basement, the three-bay facade has a central breakfront with fan-lit doorcase on the ground floor and tripartite window above; between the two there used to be a carved stone bearing the Steele coat of arms, but this has been removed. On the eastern side, and overlooking the lake, the house is of three storeys, with a great central bow and tripartite windows to left and right of the ground floor. No interior decoration survives. Since Miss Crowe of Ennis refused to acknowledge or return his ardour, Thomas Steele had never married, and after his death the Cullane estate was inherited by a niece, Maria Wogan, married to Charles FitzGerald Studdert of Newmarket House. Their descendants continued to live there until 1954 when the place was sold to the Land Commission and the house left to fall into its present state of ruin, a sad end for what had once been the home of one of Daniel O’Connell’s most ardent supporters.