Cumbria, 1802 Excellent News! Sir James Lowther, 1st Earl
of Lonsdale has fallen off his horse while out riding……. of course he was drunk,
when isn’t he? Its gets better though – he broke his stupid neck when he hit the ground.
No, hang on, stop laughing, you haven’t heard the best bit – The miserable bastard’s
dead. I know, isn’t it wonderful? How could a man so unbelievably wealthy be
such a total and utter cunt? No one ever had a good word to say about “Wicked
Jimmy”. He was mean, spiteful, vicious, perverted and only ever loved the acquisition
of power. Its little wonder he made such a good politician.
They called him “The Gloomy Earl” although I’d have been dancing a hornpipe if I’d
inherited three separate fortunes at the age of nine.Obviously, I’d have been distraught
at the death of father too. They say he was bullied at Public School,
well who isn’t? – being roasted over an open fire by gang of laughing boys builds
character. It certainly built his and by the time he left to go to Cambridge University
he was the most evil, fag broiling swine of the lot.
He departed Cambridge without a degree but as one of the richest men in England who needs
to be a “Bachelor of Latin?” What Jimmy wanted was influence.
His mother had long drummed into him the importance of power and control over such petty considerations
as kindness and humanity – She was a cold woman….never remarried.
James took this to heart and asked for the hand of the Prime Ministers daughter, Lady
Mary Stuart – a girl for whom he felt little affection but whose father could be of invaluable
help in his political ambitions. Of course, this marriage of convenience didn’t stop
him Strapping any other woman who took his fancy. He said he had seven mistresses on
the go at any one time – “A wench for every day of the week.”
His prowess with the ladies had nothing to do with his appearance. He was forever dressed
in black silk, fussing around with a large nosegay in his hand as if the stench of the
rest of the world gave him great offence. And he was strange…very strange.
They say he took both male and female servants to his bed – whether they wanted to go or
not and that he enjoyed ritualistically beating them.
Apparently Lowther once cynically persuaded a tenant farmer into allowing his young and
beautiful daughter to come and stay with him….For her benefit and advancement, obviously.
As planned, she immediately became one of the earl’s mistresses but sadly died of
fever not long after. Irritated that he had not “Had his money’s
worth” Lowther is said to have had her head embalmed and placed in a glass case, which
he kept in a cupboard – so he could still “visit” her whenever he chose.
When not romantically distracted by severed heads, Lowther was a skilful political schemer.
In 1781 he became the patron of a young barrister by the name of William Pitt who was campaigning
to win a parliamentary seat in Appleby. Appleby was a pocket borough made up primarily
of tenants who owed their voting allegiance to one man. That man was James Lowther so
unsurprisingly Pitt won his seat – although he’d never actually visited Appleby in his
life. William Pitt the Younger was Chancellor of
the Exchequer the following year and Prime Minister the next.
Lowther was an expert at manipulating votes and using his wealth to get the results he
wanted. In the general elections between 1780 and 1784 no less than nine of the winning
candidates – “Lowther’s Ninepins” were directly controlled or heavily influenced
by him. Prime Minister Pitt showered him with titles
– he became “baron this” and “viscount that” and was elevated to the peerage.
But he still wasn’t entirely happy because in the list of peerages that year two other
gentlemen had been awarded their honours ahead of him. He loudly complained in the House
of Commons and had to be led out of the building in a headlock.
His irritation however was soon replaced by arrogance.
Lowther challenged an army captain to a duel because he had the temerity to stop his coach
on a busy street – “You rascal, do you not know I am a peer of the realm”? he spat
from the window. The captain – who was just following orders would have been killed if
Lowther’s bullet hadn’t bounced off one of his brass buttons.
Not that he would have swung for it He was a madman too influential to be imprisoned.
Unless it was to further his own ends he had an almost unnatural aversion to spending any
of his great wealth. Lowther Hall was a burnt out ruin following a fire in 1720. He lived
in its crumbling shell because he refused to pay for its repair.
The mines which were the mainstay of one of his fortunes were in such a poor state that
miners – who worked in appalling conditions – regularly perished in accidents.When one
of them threatened to sue, he promptly closed them down making all of the miners unemployed.
He said he would only re open them when he received a petition of at least 2,500 signatures
begging him to do so and stating that he was no longer legally accountable for any further
deaths. The miners were desperate. He got his petition.
Do you know, he refused to pay the father of the poet William Wordsworth for years – he
was a solicitor- leaving his family horribly in debt. Young William grew up in poverty
and it’s no surprise he was passionately in favour of the French Revolution where the
idle rich got their comeuppance. The only evidence that this mean-spirited
bastard had any heart at all is his devotion to his favourite mistress.
Even that was perverse Betsey Lewes had shared his bed for twenty-five
years when she died in ‘97. Not used to having his possessions taken from him before
he could discard them Lowther simply refused to accept she’d croaked. He propped the
corpse up at the dining table, dressed in her finest clothes and acted as if nothing
had happened. When, weeks later, the smell of his decomposing
dining companion became too much even for him to bear, he had her embalmed and sealed
in a glass-topped coffin before finally agreeing to her burial.
He was forever riding his horse at breakneck speed with absolutely no consideration for
anyone who might get in his way so it no surprise that he finally met his end this way.
No one shed a tear. There was a rumour that he had been poisoned
with a draft that mimicked death and that faint knocking from his coffin at the funeral
meant that he had been buried alive But that was just wishful thinking.