Last year's Christmas reading for seven of England's most august judges was a stout volume with a titillating title: A Treatise on the Law of Adulterine Bastardy. It deals, as you might guess, with the age-old problem of married women having babies by men with whom they're having extramarital sex, and in it are some of the tawdrier bedroom tales of the great and not-so-good. In 1554, for instance, 'a bill was read three times in the House of Commons touching the adulterous living of Anne Calthorpe, Countess of Sussex'; there's talk of a Lady Roos who 'wilfully, maliciously... frequented light, loose company in an impudent, infamous and lascivious way'; and several nods to the old legal observation that 'he that bulleth my cow, the calf is mine' - meaning that even if a man's wife ('cow') may have been bulled by (had sex with) another man, the calf (child) is 'mine' (the husband's). That's always presuming, of course, that either impotence or impossibility cannot be proved - the fact that the husband, say, had been far, far away from his spouse for a long, long time, on Crusade, perhaps, or circumnavigating the globe for several years. Other than that, though, no evidence is able to 'prove the child a bastard', says the treatise, which was written in 1836.

Hot stuff, and crucial background reading for a case involving the late Sir Steuart Pringle, 10th Baronet of Stichill - a case that led this June to a groundbreaking Privy Council decision that DNA evidence could be used to challenge a person's right to hold hereditary titles even when they had been passed down to their (apparent) forebears generations ago. What's more, the judges noted, the Pringle case 'may be... relevant to property rights, if, for example, land is held in trust for the heir male of a deceased person... whether a dukedom, earldom or otherwise.' That'll have caused a flutter in the gunroom of the noblest castle.

PA Images


What did Sir Steuart have to do with this? He was 81 years old when, in 2009, his nephew Murray asked him if he'd give Murray (whom he'd never met, even though he was his brother's son) a sample of his DNA. This was, said Murray, important for the 'Pringle Surname Project', which Murray had set in motion to show who now had the right to be called the Clan Chief of Pringle - the last recorded Chief had died in 1738, leaving no heir, and Murray thought it very likely that it would be Sir Steuart who had the right. But Sir Steuart took some persuading. He was old, he wrote, and the clan chiefdom probably entailed some duties he might not be up to. But he was a dutiful sort - he'd had a distinguished career, being appointed Commandant General Royal Marines in 1981 - and in the end he felt he ought to help the project. So he finally wrote to Murray on 13 December 2009, agreeing to his proposal. He added a PS: 'Your faith in DNA is touching, but what happens when (if?) a male cuckoo enters the nest?'

It had, already. In July 2010, Murray again got in touch with Sir Steuart. He enclosed the analysis of 15 Y-chromosome DNA samples. They showed, he said - and it's not disputed - that he (Murray), his son, his brother and others were all related through the male line. Sir Steuart wasn't, nor was Sir Steuart's father. 'I had hoped,' Murray wrote, 'that the Project would underpin your nomination as Chief of the Clan, but this, of course, is obviously no longer feasible. More importantly, the issue of lineage has a direct impact on the Stichill baronetcy. After a great deal of thought, I believe that it is my duty to do what I can to restore the baronetcy to its rightful lineage.' Sir Steuart wrote back. His response was 'terse', as the Privy Council's judgement put it.

Read next Marchioness of Bath advocates hypnotism for mental health Marchioness of Bath advocates hypnotism for mental health Longleat’s glamorous chatelaine has revealed that she has taken up hypnotherapy sessions

You bet it was. Not only was it being suggested that Sir Steuart had no right to the baronetcy, it was also being suggested that Sir Steuart's father was an adulterine bastard - and evidence was given later that there'd been family gossip about the 8th baronet's frolicsome wife, though Murray said he'd never heard it. Various legal manoeuvres took place before Sir Steuart died in April 2013. At which point both Murray and Sir Steuart's son, Simon, 'registered their claims to be entitled to succeed to the baronetcy... with the Registrar of the Peerage and Baronetage'. It was a knotty problem, and one that the Queen asked the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council to rule on. Timothy Scott QC appeared for Simon and James Guthrie QC for Murray.

Both English and Scottish law were invoked, and much was made of the 'celebrated case' of Douglas vs the Duke of Hamilton in 1769, when the duke 'failed in his challenge that Archibald Douglas was not the legitimate son of Lady Jane Douglas, the sister of the late Duke of Douglas'. Hamilton had pointed out that Lady Jane was 50 when she had twins, Sholto, who later died, and Archibald - or so she claimed. Hamilton was having none of this: he said Lady Jane and her husband had bought them from a 'poor couple' in Paris and produced evidence to prove it. Nevertheless, he lost - and James Boswell, an advocate better known for his biography of Samuel Johnson, used the case to sum up the whole 'adulterine bastardy' problem: 'A wife may be unfaithful; a nurse may be unfaithful; and various other methods may be figured whereby suppositious children may be introduced into families. There is no doubt but a variety of such cases have actually happened... But it is the spirit of the law to disregard such possible cases... For law hath established such solid rules as may check the uneasy waverings of scepticism and make mankind pass through life with tranquillity and satisfaction.'


Very sensible too, you might think, and the very reason the French don't accept DNA testing for paternity in civil cases. And certainly that was one line put forward by Simon's side: what terrible traumas would happen to tranquillity and satisfaction once you let DNA evidence loose on titles? There was lots of other legal precedent too, about how long a claimant could wait before he challenged legitimacy, but in the end, said Murray's side, that was just of historical interest. What it all came down to was whether the DNA could be admitted in evidence. And in this case, the judges ruled, it could.

Because Sir Steuart had cooked his own goose. While alive, he'd argued that he'd given his DNA solely for the Pringle Surname Project - therefore it had been improperly obtained for any other use, and to use it for another purpose was contrary to the Human Tissue Act of 2004. But his quip about a cuckoo in the nest did for that argument; he clearly must, said the judges, have known that his DNA could also have been used to show he was illegitimate and that that might have ramifications for the baronetcy. And the DNA meant that it was Murray who had the right to claim the 11th Baronetcy of Stichill. So yippee for Murray and the new Lady Pringle - tough luck on Simon, who'd been raised to believe he'd be the 11th baronet, and the occasional raised eyebrow at Murray's behaviour, even if the judges firmly stated there was 'no question of dishonesty or deception on Murray's part'.

And then, in the final paragraph of the judgement, came the kicker: 'It is not for the Board [of the Judicial Committee] to express any view on what social policy should be. It notes the ability of DNA evidence to reopen a family succession many generations into the past. Whether this is a good thing and whether legal measures are needed to protect property transactions in the past... are questions for others to decide.'

Read next Boris Johnson christened his son Wilfred this weekend at Westminster Cathedral Boris Johnson christened his son Wilfred this weekend at Westminster Cathedral The Prime Minister and his fiancée Carrie Symonds will be raising their son as a Catholic

Rex Features


Which led me to the College of Arms. 'I'm putting you through to Garter now,' said Thomas Woodcock's PA, Woodcock being Garter King of Arms, a post for which he gets an annual salary of £49.07. He has an affable manner and a crucial role in terms of the peerage. When the hereditary peers were removed from the House of Lords, he told me, a Roll of the Peerage was set up by Parliament in 2004 - 'and people are put on the roll on advice'. So who gives that advice? 'Me. And in Scotland, Lord Lyon. But 90 per cent of the cases are dealt with by me.' What happens is that a claimant for a peerage produces a 'statutory declaration' - from, say, an aunt who says she's known the claimant all his life and that he's definitely the son of so-and-so, who's just died - and 'it's sent to me to look at. And if I'm happy, I write back, saying I'm satisfied that X is the heir of Y. Now it's more complicated.'

'Now' means post-Pringle. There had, said Woodcock, of course been precedents, but precedents that involved current holders of titles, rather than going back generations. The 9th Marquess of Londonderry divorced his wife in 1971 after he had 'proved his son wasn't his son, and so the son ceased to be Viscount Castlereagh [his title] and Londonderry's wife went on to marry Georgie Fame, who was the boy's father.' (Georgie Fame was described in the Marquess's Daily Telegraph obituary as 'a Lancastrian weaver's apprentice turned pop star'). In the Londonderry case, a blood test was used and proved conclusive. But DNA is even more conclusive, and it was DNA that figured in the 'mess', as Woodcock put it, that was the succession to the 3rd Lord Moynihan.

Moynihan died, according to the Independent, 'from a stroke in 1991 while running a string of lucrative brothels in the Philippines'. By 1996, there were two young Filipinos vying for the barony, the sons of Moynihan's fourth and - allegedly - fifth wife. Wife No. 4, Editha, claimed that her signatures on her divorce papers were forged, a claim accepted by the Queen's Proctor. Which would seem to give her and Moynihan's son, Andrew, the title. Alas, DNA tests on Andrew and on samples left by Moynihan showed that Andrew could not have been Moynihan's son.

You'd have thought that would have made his heir Daniel, his son by Wife No. 5, a belly dancer called Jinna. Wrong - because Moynihan's divorce from Editha was fraudulent, his marriage to Jinna was bigamous and Daniel was therefore a bastard who could not inherit the title. Instead it went to Colin Moynihan, a former MP and Oxford cox - a mixed blessing for Colin, who'd been keen to pursue a political career in the Commons. (To add even more spice to the story, the late international drug smuggler Howard Marks told me that an old rowing chum of Colin's had persuaded Howard to dig around in the Philippines to find evidence of the 3rd baron's sexual adventuring. Howard had an interest: the 3rd baron had grassed him up to the US Drug Enforcement Administration.) If that was a mess, the Ampthill affair was even messier - as Woodcock rather nervously said, 'You wouldn't want to re-open a case like that.'

Read next Everything you need to know about Hanna Jaff: Henry Roper-Curzon’s fiancée Everything you need to know about Hanna Jaff: Henry Roper-Curzon’s fiancée The Latina multi-hyphenate is engaged to Sarah, Duchess of York’s nephew

That case revolved around a frisky young woman called Christabel Hart who in 1918 married 'Stilts' (John Russell), the six-foot-six heir to the 2nd Lord Ampthill. Christabel was fond of dancing with 'sleek, dark Argentinians' and Stilts himself was a bit of a one: he loved dressing in drag. But his wife found him dull, and the night before the wedding told him that she didn't believe in contraception and that he must agree to do nothing that might cause her to become pregnant. So, no sex. Which made her sudden announcement, in 1921, that she was five months pregnant pretty startling: Stilts, she claimed, was, unbeknownst to him, given to both 'sleepwalking' and, in that state, to attempting 'Hunnish scenes' - by which she meant penetration. Ten months after one 'sleepwalking event' - and, as it happened, nine months after she'd spent a night in separate bedrooms in a hotel with a horse trainer - she gave birth to a 10lb baby, Geoffrey. Convinced he couldn't be the father, and determined that Geoffrey shouldn't be able eventually to claim the Ampthill title, Stilts sued for divorce. Whereupon he was confronted with medical evidence that Christabel still had an only partially perforated hymen when she gave birth, was therefore technically a virgin and had 'never had full intercourse with a man'. In court, one explanation was put forward: Christabel had made 'injudicious' use of a sponge Stilts had employed in the same bathwater into which she got a few minutes later - which was possible, just.

The case dragged on through various courts until the House of Lords ruled that a child born in wedlock couldn't be declared illegitimate solely on testimony from either the father or mother about sexual 'non-access'. So Geoffrey was Christabel and Stilts's child and heir to the barony - except that when Stilts died in 1973, his son by his third marriage, John, contested Geoffrey's right to it. Though Stilts had left a blood sample, Geoffrey in the end declined to have his blood tested, and the Lords ruled in Geoffrey's favour. He entered the Lords, chaired the catering committee and was much liked, though he tended to attract a lot of muttering about sponges.

Is Woodcock right that 'no one would want to re-open a case like that'? He hopes so, 'but it may be wishful thinking on my behalf. We're now in slightly uncharted territory.' The only certain ancestor anyone has, he noted, is one's mother - one reason Jewishness can only be passed through the mother's line - 'whereas we've relied on the more suspect male line. So undoubtedly there are cases where these things [adulterine bastardy] have gone on.'

Of course they have. The discovery of Richard III's bones has had implications for the Duke of Beaufort's family, which claims descent from Edward III, the great-great-grandfather of Richard III. Comparisons of Richard's Y-chromosome - which passes from father to son - with that of five members of the current Duke of Beaufort's extended family showed no matches. Which means a 'false paternity' event had occurred - a little naughtiness with a stable boy by some errant duchess, perhaps. Two, in fact, because no match could be found either with a Frenchman who could trace his male line back to Richard III through the bastard son of Geoffrey, Count of Anjou. Might a challenge be mounted? As one barrister told me, 'the Pringle case leaves every grand family in the land open to challenge. It's an absolute minefield.' And it is indeed the case that there are at least two very grand families whose current head and head-to-be are the subject of 'false paternal' gossip...

PA Images

Read next ‘Maybe I was naive’: Lady Swire on response to tell-all memoir ‘Maybe I was naive’: Lady Swire on response to tell-all memoir With unflinching insights on the likes of David Cameron, Boris Johnson, Dominic Raab and more, Lady Swire’s tell-all diary has raised some eyebrows within Westminster circles

So imagine this. There, living in a bungalow in Meriden, is a genealogist seething with resentment. He is, he's sure, the rightful Duke of Fanciful. All he needs to prove it is a little DNA... well, he's not likely to get it. Not now: Sir Steuart gave his DNA willingly but unwisely - his son, the now untitled Simon, didn't. Any sane family will shy a mile from DNA testing. To get it by subterfuge - 'not a good development,' opined Woodcock - wouldn't work. The aspiring Duke of Fanciful might try to pay a barber to keep a sample of the current duke's hair after he's been to Trumper's, but he wouldn't be able to use it as evidence - it's been improperly obtained and can't be used in a civil suit. (Courts, incidentally, can order a child's DNA to be taken when they're considering the child's own interests in a child-support suit, but they can't force an adult to give its DNA - though the court may draw its own conclusions. And if the ex-husband then discovers the ex-wife has saddled him with an adulterine bastard... Well, cases for 'deceit' have been brought and won.)

But back to the aspiring Duke of Fanciful. He has, somehow, legally got the DNA; he has shown that it is he who should possess the title and has successfully challenged for it. What then happens to the ducal palace and the ducal wealth? Property and wealth are usually looked after by peerage trusts. What if Fanciful argues that various trustees' decisions should be overturned because the trustees made them under the misguided belief that the current duke was actually the heir of a preceding duke and he actually wasn't, as DNA shows? ? Usually, there's a time limitation on any such action, which would make this difficult, but there are probably circumstances that could affect that. Mind you, the trustees, pissed off that the genealogist from Meriden is mucking around with a great family, might take the view that the preceding duke left his estate to a person he knew, liked and brought up and that his views should be respected. But what if a younger sibling can manage to prove the heir apparent is an adulterine bastard, and the younger sibling seems to the trustees a much better bet as the future duke..? Any lawyer worth his salt will be spoiling for a fight.

No wonder Thomas Woodcock believes that 'for social stability, it's best if things are left lying'. To do otherwise, he thinks, is to fail 'to accept the basic premise that life is unfair and you should accept your lot.' Now the temptation is to 'produce this new card [DNA].' He sighed. 'It certainly will be disruptive - if the family hasn't chosen to do something about it themselves.' They better had.

Inside Charleston House! Features Inside Charleston House!


Aristocrats to rely on in an Apocalypse! Features Aristocrats to rely on in an Apocalypse!