Hereditary Lords speak out on prospect of leaving Parliament

Imprisoned in the Tower of London in 1538 waiting to be executed, Henry Courtenay, the Earl of Devon, wrote on his cell walls words which would become his family's motto - "Where have I fallen, what have I done?"

Nearly 500 years later, another Earl of Devon, is once again contemplating getting the chop.

Charlie Courtenay, the 19th or 38th Earl of Devon, depending on how you count it, is one of the 87 remaining hereditary peers who will be kicked out of the House of Lords this year, if the government's House of Lords (Hereditary Peers) Bill passes.

He is fairly relaxed about his impending departure. Henry Courtenay's beheading was one of four the family has suffered, so for the current Earl of Devon "executions" - as he puts it - are nothing new.

"For us hereditaries, that's what happens."

For hundreds of years, hereditary peers had the right to make and debate laws in Parliament, a right they inherited from their fathers and passed on to their sons.

In 1999, then Prime Minister Tony Blair described their presence in the House of Lords as an "anachronism" and got rid of more than 600 of them but, following what was supposed to be a temporary compromise, 92 were saved.

Twenty-five years on, a new Labour government has come to power and is hoping to get rid of the ones who remain.

The BBC has spoken to four of those peers preparing to pack up their parliamentary desks.

Charlie Courtenay is happy to talk about his family's long history but growing up he felt uncomfortable about his privileged background.

"It's obviously awkward and embarrassing on a personal front. Particularly it doesn't help if you live in a castle - you feel a bit like the odd one out."

"I moved away from England for ten years and lived in America, where it suddenly became a lot easier.

"By moving to America, where the response was 'gee, that's really interesting, tell me more', I learnt to talk about it with a bit more confidence."

His distant ancestor, Baldwin de Redvers was given the title in 1142 as a reward for backing Empress Matilda's right to the throne.

He inherited it following his father's death in 2015, and began to think more deeply about what it meant to be an earl.

His father had been kicked out of the House of Lords in the 1999 cull but his son was able to return via a by-election process, by which hereditaries who have died can be replaced by others from the same political grouping.

He says he remembers thinking "here's a nice opportunity to provide a Devon voice in Westminster which is exactly the job Baldwin was given 900 years ago."

The Earl of Devon is what he calls an "unashamed" proponent of hereditary peers.

"I am the one person who defends the indefensible," he jokes.

He argues that, at a time of concern about the "rabid consumption of our natural world" hereditaries offer a "long-term, multi-generational view" and are less likely to be focused on short term political gains.

With his remaining months, he is hoping to, if not change the law, then get some support for his amendment to remove what he calls "the patriarchal, misogynistic" rules that bar women from inheriting most titles.

"I find it faintly, totally ridiculous, embarrassing and wrong that my sisters and my aunt or my daughter can't inherit the title."

Whether or not his amendments are accepted, it is all but certain that his children will not get the chance to sit in the Lords based on the title alone - a fact the earl is more than resigned to.

"The big time for the Courtenay family was around 1100. Ever since then it's been a kind of slight gentle winding down of glories.

"This is just another step on the route to ignominy."

"I will not miss commuting 672 miles there and back every week," says Lord Thurso, a Liberal Democrat peer.

He lives in Thurso, a town which is on the north coast of Scotland and about as far from the Lords as you can be without getting on a boat.

He has no problem with hereditary peers getting the boot ("the idea we have some unique quality is laughable," he says) but doubts it will make much difference.

"This is another sticking plaster over something that really needs to be dealt with."

He says the Lords have good debates and scrutinise the government's plans "extremely well" but "does it actually get us anywhere? It doesn't."

To have influence with the government, the Lords needs legitimacy, he says.

"A house full of largely retired MPs put out to grass for 30 or 40 years or people like me who inherited it because their grandfather was cabinet secretary? That's no way to put together a second chamber."

In 2012, he worked on a doomed plan that would have seen the Lords made up of a combination of elected and appointed peers.

He says there is not "cat in hell's chance" of the government making any further changes once the current bill is passed.

He wants to see ministers use the legislation to make other changes including a 20 year term limit for new peers and a restriction on the size of the house.

"If you've got those two, well, then we can wait another 100 years or so for democracy," he sighs.

Lord Howe inherited his title from a son-less second cousin in 1984, along with Penn House, a stately Buckinghamshire home.

"My wife and I lived in a small terrace house in London. She was a teacher. I was working in bank.

"All of a sudden I had a call to say I'd inherited the title.

"It was a shock to the system - particularly when you arrive on a dark January evening, the front door creaks open and there is a butler saying 'Welcome home your Lordship'. And it didn't feel like home at all."

The heating bill cost more than his annual salary, he remembers.

Just a few years after becoming a peer, he was made a minister by then Conservative prime minister John Major ("Must have been scraping the barrel," he says).

He's been on the front bench of his party ever since in various roles.

Nearly 40 years on, his enthusiasm for the Lords has not diminished.

"I love the place. I've found it very fulfilling. And just occasionally you feel that you've done a little bit of good."

Lord Hacking is a rare thing - a Labour hereditary peer. There are only four of his kind, a fact that partly explains the government's enthusiasm to get rid of hereditaries.

He got the title in 1971, but never expected to stay so long.

He assumed hereditary peers would soon be removed and decided that once kicked out he could run to be an MP.

"It didn't quite work out like," he says. "A bad political misjudgement."

"I remained in the House of Lords until 1999 when I was 62 and that was a bit late then to think about getting into the House of Commons.

He backs his party's position on hereditary peers but not without regret.

"I wouldn't say I'm happy to get rid of them. I'm sad but I think what will happen... is that the very best of the hereditary peers will be invited to have a life peerage.

"I'm sure there will be a compromise. We always compromise out of situations in England."

You can listen to the interviews on BBC Radio 4's Westminster Hour at 2200 BST on Sunday and then on BBC Sounds