Penelope died only three years later, in 1762, and both the baronetcy and her substantial wealth and land holdings—the Dukinfield estate near Ashton-under-Lyne in Cheshire—were inherited by her only daughter, Henrietta, who lived in an asylum due to mental illness.

[1] After Penelope died John Astley turned his attention to architecture, buying Schomberg House on Pall Mall in London and converting it into apartments and an artist's studio.

"[1][10] These financial issues were partly alleviated by Astley's mother's second marriage, in 1793, to Reverend William Robert Hay, a wealthy solicitor and magistrate who would later become infamous for his role in the Peterloo Massacre.

He quickly gained a reputation as an "enlightened landlord," showing concern for his tenants' welfare during the economic slump brought on by the Napoleonic Wars by pausing rent collections and distributing money to those in need in the wider community.

[17][18] He had a particular interest in new developments in agriculture and forestry and encouraged his farming tenants to experiment with ways of improving their yields, presenting engraved silver cups to those who displayed particular excellence.

[17] He served two non-consecutive terms as High Sheriff of Cheshire in 1806 and 1807, and similarly large crowds gathered to celebrate his inaugurations, one of which was commemorated in an oil painting by an unknown artist.

[21][22][23] He also became a keen hunstman, and commissioned the construction of Hunters' Tower, a lodge and stables dedicated to "festive enjoyment," to provide a home for the county's various hunting clubs.

[31] Astley wrote his most critically acclaimed poem—Varnishando, "a serio comic poem addressed to collectors of paintings"—the same year about his experiences with "such Goths, who would overrun the Empire of the Arts.

[43] Gisborne came from a wealthy political family which had produced several mayors of Derby, and aside from his large estates in Derbyshire and Staffordshire he was also a successful coal, lime, and sand merchant in Manchester.

[44] Like many large landowners of the time, Astley sought out new opportunities made possible by the Industrial Revolution—however, his attempt at establishing an iron smelting works on his estate was a resounding (and expensive) failure.

[8] Though he was determined to make his estates profitable, he had also inherited his father's fondness for splurging on parties, drinking, and art, and—combined with his tendency to impulsive philanthropy—he was eventually forced into bankruptcy in May 1817.

[45][8] The vast majority of Astley's personal belongings at Dukinfield Lodge—including the art collection started by his father—were put up for auction in August 1817 at Winstanley & Sons in Manchester by his creditors to settle his debts.

[11] Advertisements listed a huge variety of goods for sale:[A] fine bust of Napoleon, elegant French Clock, superb Set of China Jars, Indian Cabinets; a Collection of stuffed British Birds, &c. Musical Instruments, of a high Quality, consisting of a valuable Finger Organ, a brilliant-toned Pedal Harp, fine-toned upright, grand, and square Piano Fortes, a curious Silver French Horn, &c. Modern Town-built Landaulet, Barouchette, and Gig, Chariot, Harness for four Horses, brilliant Plates of Glass, of large Dimensions, modern Household Furniture, a gothic Library Bookcase, a winged Wardrobe, and other useful Articles.

[46]His creditors also considered selling Fell Foot—a large estate overlooking Windermere in the Lake District which Astley had purchased in 1814 and extensively (and expensively) redesigned and landscaped—but decided against it.

[53][54] These mines (along with a number of cotton mills built along the Tame around the same time) led to the urbanisation of Dukinfield, which grew from an area of farms and cottages into a fully-fledged town, distinct from neighbouring Ashton-under-Lyne.

Moss, reportedly suffering from "melancholy," spent the time drinking instead, and then drowned himself by jumping into an abandoned coal pit filled with water when Astley returned and attempted to admonish him.

[62] On 23 July they dined together late into the evening with two other friends; Astley was found dead in bed at around 5:00 p.m. the next day by a servant, "his mouth covered with froth and blood.

[64][62] Astley's stepfather, William Robert Hay, arrived the next morning after being summoned from Dukinfield and, satisfied with the doctors' assessments, decided that a coroner's inquest with a more thorough examination of the body was unnecessary; Hay was chair of the Salford sessions court, and at the time inquests were only opened in cases of obvious violence or other foul play, so officials in Derbyshire deferred to his judgement.

[66][67] However, the decision not to hold an inquest—and the haste to organise the funeral, allegedly due to "decomposition going on rapidly" with the body—soon led to rumours that Astley's death had occurred under suspicious circumstances, and the truth was being withheld by those responsible.

[62] The Manchester Guardian mentioned the "monstrous" placards in its report on the funeral, and argued that "the avidity with which [the rumour] has been spread amongst the poorer classes, is at least a proof of the affection with which Mr. Astley was regarded by them.

[62] He called several witnesses and, through questioning, established an agreed series of facts and events: Astley had been in poor health for some time—with an irregular heartbeat, bouts of "pressure in the head" and "giddiness" which left him "seriously alarmed," and episodes of sleep apnea, all of which were exacerbated by his excessive drinking and eating—and Dr. Bennett had warned Astley only six weeks before his death that "if you don't alter your course of life, you will certainly be dead in a short time.

[69] Servants had repeatedly checked on him in bed throughout 24 July but had assumed he was still asleep until one of them finally tried to rouse him in the late afternoon, by which time his body was cold and rigor mortis had set in.

[70] The Manchester Guardian welcomed Gisborne's vindication in an editorial, but also argued that "though the evidence was perfectly sufficient to convince every reasonable man that Mr. Astley's death was not produced by violent means—it would have been somewhat more satisfactory to the people amongst whom the reports had obtained some credence, to shew precisely what was the cause of it; and with this view the body ought certainly to have been examined.

"[71] Newspapers elsewhere in the country were more sympathetic to Gisborne, pointing to the case as a "striking example" of the need for more coroner's inquests in order to prevent the spread of damaging rumours about innocent people.