Conspiracy theories, a lost bank card and a media scrum: Calamitous Bolton dumped as UKIP lives to fight another day - SKETCH

On the day the Prime Minister delivered a keynote speech on Brexit, the party that has devoted its very existence to getting us out of the EU was holding the latest in a series of unedifying battles in its long-running civil war.

Oh how they would loved to have been over there in Munich, beating the drum for Britain and telling Merkel and co to 'get stuffed' in a drive for a harder-than-hard Brexit.

Instead, a few hundred Kippers drifted in and out of Birmingham's ICC, voting over whether or not beleaguered leader Henry Bolton should be given a stay of execution.

In typical UKIP fashion, the lead up to the EGM had been a picture of tranquillity, with members collectively displaying a deeply thoughtful, almost meditative outlook. It was almost controversy-free.

That is apart from party chairman Paul Oakden announcing his resignation; the messiah Nigel Farage saying UKIP was collapsing, and the revelation that it was on the brink of bankruptcy.

There was also the bizarre moment when Bolton likened himself to Princess Diana – surely an attempt to go one better than his predecessor Paul Nuttall, who famously compared himself to Mahatma Gandhi.

Arriving at the venue, Bolton was greeted by a good, old fashioned media scrum. Snappers and journos surrounded him like a kettle of vultures preparing to pick over their prey.

There was only one question, belted out from the back of the pack: "Henry, is this your last day as UKIP leader?"

Bolton was stone faced as he breezed in through the doors, the clock already ticking down on the final hours of his wretched tenure.

He looked world weary, this thrice married rake who ditched his latest wife for Jo Marney, a women half his age with a world outlook that borders on the demented.

"UKIP's collapse started long before Bolton, don't forget that," one member told me, who had travelled all the way down from England's north east to give Henry his backing.

In some respects he was right.

Over the past 12 months the amount of back-biting and personal attacks among Kippers has mirrored the sort of behaviour you would more readily associate with the Labour party under Agent COB.

But few could argue that the Bolton fiasco hasn't been UKIP's crisis to end all crises.

One school of thought, put forward most vociferously by former parliamentary candidate John Howsam, is that Bolton was sent in by M16 to destroy UKIP.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, Bolton's fate was sealed by late afternoon, with nearly two thirds of the 1,378 people who voted backing yet another leadership election.

Within minutes Gerard Batten had been named as interim leader and the hunt for a new permanent captain had begun.

But there was still time for some of the high end comedy that UKIP specialises in.

Oakden delivered the body blow that members from East Sussex had been desperate not to hear: the coach back to Eastbourne was delayed until 5pm.

And there was more.

“Do we have a Mr Dickinson? His bank card and his phone have been found on the floor.”

It was impossible not to laugh. Everything became rushed – and it had to be, as UKIP had only booked the room until 5pm.

Then as if things could not get any more surreal, Neil Hamilton – of all people – did an interview noting that Bolton was 'no stranger to public humiliation'.

Oblivious

As for Bolton, even in his final flourish he remained completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

He spoke of potential legal action against the party, and was surely referring to someone else when he said: "You can’t keep a good man down."

For his part, Farage didn't turn up, arguing that if he had of done 'it would be all about me, wouldn't it?'

In a roundabout way, Nige, it still was, and you could say that anything to do with the purple party always will be.

But UKIP has just about lived to fight another day, with Bill among those lining up for a tilt at the crown.

A squabbling, ungainly mess they might be, but we'll miss 'em when they're gone.