This sad little lizard told me that he was a Brontosaurus on his mother’s side. I did not laugh; people who boast of ancestry often have little else to sustain them. Humoring them costs nothing and adds to happiness in a world in which happiness is in short supply.
–Robert Heinlein *
I don’t make a big deal of it, but apparently there’s a fair chance that I’m descended from Swedish royalty.
Back when I didn’t care about my heritage too much, other than the basic “what country are we from?**”, my mom was in the midst of trying to trace our roots. I vaguely remember her telling this story from what she learned from relatives. When I did start becoming a bit more interested, mom had already passed away. I questioned my sister, who was sort of into the heritage stuff, but her memory was fuzzy. My brother seemed surprised by the story. So this all needs to be taken a bit tongue-in-cheek. Seems that as my mom traced back on her mom’s side of the family (the Swedish side), she kept hearing the same story from direct relatives. Digging further, she heard it repeated by distant relatives, with the story basically intact from what she’d already learned.
The story goes that there was one of my great-to-the-something (fourth? fifth?) grandfathers was actually raised in an orphanage.
The catch was that my grandfather was visited quite regularly. Every couple of weeks, a royal carriage would come around and one of the King’s daughters…a Princess!!…would come in and spend time with my grandfather.
The rumor had it that the (unmarried) Princess had a liaison with one of the royal court and, as sometimes happens in such affairs, she became preggers***.
Being unmarried, but for religious or medical reasons unwilling to terminate the pregnancy, the child was brought to term and born into – – – nothingness.
Back then (still?), children of royalty born out of wedlock were assumed not to exist. Given how randy and lascivious many royalty were … are?…, you can’t go around affirming and recognizing every apparent heir to the throne. Only those issue of approved and blessed marriages may ascend to the royal court.
So, the child was placed into an orphanage, with sufficient funds to ensure he was properly taken care of as long as needed.
But, the Princess was awash in maternal instincts for her ‘lost’ child and made it a point to visit over an extended time.
True? No way to tell for sure. A good story, nonetheless.
So, yeah…I may be royalty
…but bastard royalty!
…and damn proud of it.
I’ll be soliciting ideas on how to reclaim my rightful throne…
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
*had to chuckle. I thought I was being clever using this quote. But, not remembering the whole thing, googled it only to find that about 73 other people with blogs talking about genealogy use it as well. You’ll notice it didn’t stop me a bit.
**me? The biggies are 49% Scottish, 24% German, and 24% Swedish, with a smattering of other stuff thrown in there for the rest.
***yes, I do realize that royalty don’t become “preggers”… that’s for redneck high school girls. Royalty become “with child” or “enceinte” or some other pompous, overbearing phrase for “knocked up”. I just felt like using “preggers”.
November 8, 2010 at 21:22 |
Lucky for you we now have genetic testing. All you need is a hair or fingernail clipping from someone in the Swedish royal family and presto! You’re a million — no — make that a billionaire.
November 14, 2010 at 22:11 |
okay, so i’m off to root around in the dumpster behind the kunglig hus, ja? you make a diversion out front by quoting Astrid Lindgren and Selma Lagerlöf with a Jersey accent.
November 8, 2010 at 21:28 |
hmmm…. why do i suddenly have a hankerin’ for swedish meatballs?
November 14, 2010 at 22:12 |
i got yer swedish meatballs right here.
November 9, 2010 at 02:09 |
“Sitting on the throne” is a euphemism for going to the toilet in my neck of the woods
November 14, 2010 at 22:12 |
my neck of the woods as well. mostly because that’s the only ‘throne’ 99.9% of us will ever see or use.
November 9, 2010 at 03:47 |
Pray, seat thyself upon an Ikea throne, your Majesty.
November 14, 2010 at 22:13 |
Prithee, and i am ensconced on said Ikea throne. bring me my minions!
November 10, 2010 at 13:40 |
“curtsy” Your Majesty…may I borrow a Million or 2..Dollars..none of that funny money.
November 14, 2010 at 22:14 |
well, since you proffered a curtsy… but i’m thinking all i’ll have access to are Kroners… we may have a problem.
November 10, 2010 at 15:01 |
I love the opening quote, hilarious. I did my family tree a few years ago & I discovered that my GGGrand parents were Irish convicts transported to Tasmania in the early 1800’s. He for Larceny, she for Arson. My grandmothers brother was killed in action in France during WW1 shortly after a 3 month stay in a British Army Hospital for an extremely severe case of gonorrhoea which is documented in his Military Records. And I bet he thought no family members would ever find out about it…
November 14, 2010 at 22:15 |
excellent family history! yeah, i’d be bragging on that as well. but, wait… there are ‘non’-severe cases of gonorrhoea? well, i mean, those you don’t survive…hmmm…
November 10, 2010 at 15:28 |
royalty, eh? forget about proving, just BE it, sugar! insist that all of your friends address you as highness and start speaking in the royal third person, too! xoxoxox
November 14, 2010 at 22:16 |
hmm. we like that. we like that quite a bit, m’lady. i will start tomorrow at work.
November 13, 2010 at 12:43 |
Reminds me of the tale my mom tells of an ancestral baroness (Austria-Hungary) who ran off with a shepherd. She refers to herself as a blueblood still. Doesn’t explain how her parents had surnames that are analogous with “Smith” and “Jones” over here,though.
I liked that Heinlein quote too. Moreso the part about happiness being in short supply. That’s sadly true.
November 14, 2010 at 22:17 |
too funny. she should’ve remembered that “Baa” means “No!”.
and, yeah, sometimes it doesn’t hurt to help increase the supply of happiness by some small act of kindness.
November 17, 2010 at 12:16 |
Royalty or not, you always have the option of being a drag queen.
December 10, 2010 at 17:37 |
Nah, heels play hell with my ankles…it’s one of those genetic weaknesses things we royalty have.
November 20, 2010 at 19:01 |
All hail the Gnu!
December 10, 2010 at 17:39 |
You have earned the thanks of his royal Gnuness and shall have a place in my court. Let me know what positions you have in mind… well, except for the next comment wherein TBFKAMP seems to have claimed one.
November 21, 2010 at 08:17 |
Hmm. Can I polish the royal knob? King Gnukid. Has a certain gravitas to it :p
December 10, 2010 at 17:40 |
My, my…the perquisites of royalty extend beyond even my highest hopes. You may, you may…
November 21, 2010 at 11:04 |
well, gnukid… you’ll always be King Sh!t to me.
December 10, 2010 at 17:41 |
Say, this is going easier than I thought it would! Respect abounds from my minions.
November 21, 2010 at 23:57 |
HEY! I’m Swedish too, perhaps we’re relatives. It could happen!
December 10, 2010 at 17:42 |
Whether relatives or not, we are bound by our Swedish heritage. Fiskbullar and Blåbärspalt for all!