Monday, May 24, 2010

Royally Ironic

This post has absolutely nothing to do with weight loss. I just thought this was a funny little ironic twist in the life of Keila and thought to share. Who couldn't use a funny on Monday, right? Allow me to explain. . .
For Christmas last year I decided to research and create my husband's family tree. I'm a huge history buff and even majored in it in college so the research was fun for me. It took me about three months but I finally made it as far back to 1500s Germany (a part of France at the time) and a family with a long history of beer making. No real surprise there. There were even a few shady characters hiding in the leaves of his family tree. You know, the usual horse thief, bigamist, even a crooked politician from Albany, but it was as nothing when I started researching my own tree.
A few years ago my grandfather had done the paternal line of my tree and so I was pretty much halfway there. It was interesting. Two passengers on the Mayflower, a Revolutionary war hero, a real-life character from a Shakespearean play, and even a burned-at-the-stake heretic. Interesting, yes.
Then I started on my mom's side and frankly, I didn't expect to find much more than the usual bits of Scotch-Irish immigrant history typical of our region. Boy was I wrong.
Imagine my surprise when I started to notice something around the middle of the thirteenth century. I started noticing names like De Welles (my great-grandmother was a Wells), and Neville, and De Broas, and what the hell - Plantagenet. Perhaps these name mean nothing to you, but to my history loving heart they meant everything. Could it be? Could I possibly be descended from royalty? My mind was a blur. It must be, I thought. In my head I've always known I was a queen. Ha Ha!
So I did what any sane person would do. I dug further. Drum roll please. . . I am indeed descended from royalty from several different lines, only one of which being legitimate. The really interesting finds are that I am directly descended from a bastard son of King Henry II, one William Longspee (or Longspear) through his infamous mistress Rosamond (or Rosalyn) Clifford. Ooooohhhh, juicy. Wait for it, though, it gets even better.
I am also descended from another son of King Henry II. A certain John Lackland. You may be more familiar with him as King John I. You know, of Robin Hood fame. Brother to King Richard the Lionheart, the evil Prince John and all that. My line of descent to him comes to me courtesy of another Royal bastard. This time his daughter Joanne, who went on the marry the Prince of Wales (its own country at the time).
So there you have it. What started out as my interest in my royal bloodlines has turned into a discovery of ill repute. Some people I suppose would think it was shameful. I myself think it's awesome!!! Just think, I am descended from a long line of cheats, scoundrels, and whores. Turns out the bad attitude is genetic. History has it's use after all.

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