The Bastard Line

While all of you may be excited to watch the Royal Wedding tomorrow, I am quite cross about it.  I'm not sure if I will wake up in the wee hours of the morning to view a wedding that I should be attending, even though as an American I wouldn't be caught dead with one of those bird's nests on my head.  (Sidebar: If you ever go to a wedding in England you can spot a Yank girl, by her garish bareheadedness).  Attending weddings in England has been de rigueur in my life lately.  Little nieces and nephews are taking the plunge in droves.  Even my sis-in-law has decided to get into the action for the third time, this coming autumn.  (Since I missed her first two, I'll be damned if I'll miss the third).  But, back to Harry: shouldn't family members, like me get an invite?  It's just good manners Haz and Megs!  Come on, Megs, we are both California girls with only the Malibu Canyon separating our childhood homes.  

In order to explain, let me introduce you to my late Irish great grandmother, Marguerite Wilson Haymes.  Oh Marguerite,  your Christian name must have been Margaret, don't try to fool us.  I've been researching family history for years and the facts of your life remain stubbornly mysterious.  The branches of your line have been sheared away by many myths and tales of your own making.  Your early life, tough to pin down is an enigma.  To quote your son, (my grandfather) Dick Haymes,

"My mother has that unique ability to tell a story the way she wants to believe it and that eventually becomes fact, so my mind isn't totally clear about my earliest beginnings"

Here's what we know:  You were born in Dublin to an English father and an Irish mother.  You were raised in Santa Barbara...umm, really?  How did you get from Dublin to Santa Barbara in the late 1800's? According to the biography, The Life of Dick Haymes by Ruth Prigozy, you did.  But in the short memoir of Dick's brother, Bob, you went straight from Dublin to London.  

Now I know memoir writing can be subjective, hello...that's what I do.  I'm the Queen of Subjectivity.  Even so, I found Bob's account of you slightly more plausible:  beautiful teenager arrives in London in 1913, gets lucky and lands a spot in the chorus of a West End musical produced by Charles Dillingham.  During the run of the play, Marguerite claims to have: 

"been taken to a very exclusive party to meet Edward, Prince of Wales.  They hit it off immediately and spent many an evening together as well as Sundays in the country.  Among her friends at the time, most believed that Royal Tradition had been uninterrupted".   

So, my great grandmother, Marguerite entertained  Edward the Prince of Wales.  A question remains; just how entertained was he?

Now, I am not one to dig into the (ahem) "primal relations" of my ancestors.  Having said that, I'm grateful to them for their rolls in the hay.  Otherwise, I wouldn't be here.

The fact is that Marguerite was a beautiful woman who was playing the field and had many beaus.  Bob Haymes' memoir says that she met "a quietly handsome gentleman from Argentina, supposedly in London on business who soon made Marguerite his sole occupation".  He was 20 years her senior and he brought her to Argentina where she gave birth to Richard Benjamin Haymes 11 months later.  The cunundrum is that I'm a clone of my mom who is a clone of her dad who is a clone of...you guessed it: Edward Prince of Wales.  

Prince of Wales

The "Haymes" look consists of fair skin, light eyes and a turned up nose.  Slightly, elven in appearance, often freckled, these Haymes genes are like bamboo in a garden.  Something you can cut back, but never entirely eradicate.  The musical talent strain has thinned out through the years although all six of Dick's children can sing.  Exceptionally well.  And all of the grandchildren, heck, even the great grandchildren are purveyors of music.  I don't know if Edward Prince of Wales,  was musical but Marguerite was.  She was a vocal coach in New York City for many years.  And she did prefer to be called Tutti by her grandkids; an Italian musical term which means, "all together, voices and orchestra".

So are we really related to the Prince of Wales/Duke of Windsor?  Who can say?  

Prince of Wales

There is a strong resemblance.  It could be coincidence.  It feels good to think I'm related to someone who would give up the throne for true love.  It also feels good to know that these days, even Royals can marry whom they choose to love: divorcees, commoners and Americans. 

The alternative scenario is that Benjamin Haymes of Argentina is my great grandfather.  In which case, I'm descended from Robert the Bruce of Scotland.  Braveheart?  Not too shabby of a lineage.  Now that is something I can wrap my kilt around.

Ok.  All this talk of lineage and ancestry does inspire my love of family and tradition.  So, out of duty to my future descendants I will get up early, grab a cup of black coffee, put on my Uggs and watch the Royal Wedding.  Fine. Twist my arm about it!  After all, Harry is marrying a Valley Girl.  And OMG, like, who can resist that?

Tutti

Dick and Tutti 1940's