Tale adds whimsy to search (8/15/05)

I haven’t found any ax murderers yet, but I have found an Italian princess that I am almost sure is fictional. Best of all I finally found Wilbur, my great-grandfather. He is buried in Anna, Ohio not too far from where he was born.

I am still searching for ancestors. My second cousin, Carolyn, kindly sent me a packet of material compiled by one of my mother’s cousins. Along with the fuzzy pictures of assorted ancestors was that tale of the princess. It seems that the first Gossard anybody can find was a great musician. I did not inherit any musical ability whatsoever, so that part may be as fictional as the princess.

Anyway, the story goes that Europe was still divided into many small kingdoms at that time, and this musician would go around and play for all the assorted kings and queens. He made his way from Switzerland and/or Germany to Italy, where there was a beautiful princess. I suppose ugly princesses were banished somewhere as they never play a positive role in fairy tales. The musician and the princess fell in love. If they hadn’t, there wouldn’t be a story to hand down through the generations.

Their love grew stronger every time the musician visited this particular kingdom. As he was just a commoner, he was forbidden to marry the king’s daughter. They finally decided to elope, and the princess gathered her jewels and arranged for a secret meeting. They had planned to settle in France, but ended up in either England or Ireland. I think Ireland makes more sense as that would better explain the preponderance of red hair and milk white skin in our family. From there, they or more probably their descendants, came to America.

It is a nice little story that has probably been embellished with every telling. I have to wonder about the princess. Did she miss her family? When her friends complained about their parents did she feel a chill of loneliness? Did her husband continue to wander all over the place entertaining royalty while the princess was left to deal with a brood of noisy children and a drafty house in a land where she probably didn’t speak the language? Did she ever threaten to take her jewels and go back to the palace?

Did the musician’s family know he had married a princess? Did he take her home to meet his mother? Would she believe the girl was really a princess? Did the musician’s mother teach her how to make her son’s favorite foods? If they settled in Ireland, did she have to learn to like haggis?

The princess story is similar to every fairy tale I have ever heard. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, overcome a few obstacles and live happily ever after. Fairy tales are how we want life to be. In a fairy tale, the sink never stops up right before a dinner party. In a fairy tale, nobody has to take out the trash before the dog gets into it. The lovers don’t miss their families or regret their decisions in the heat of an argument. The crops don’t fail, and the husband doesn’t have a stroke and die at the ripe old age of 50 like Wilbur did.

While the princess story is a surprise, I am much more interested in hearing that my great-grandfather helped build a barn or that they were so poor that they couldn’t afford a marker for his grave until his grandchildren took up a collection. Finding out that my own grandfather was a volunteer fireman or that a great-great grandmother died of breast cancer is more relevant than is a fairy tale.

In searching for family, I want to know what these people looked like and more importantly what their values were. I want to know why they died and when. I am searching for connections, commonalties and health warnings. These are the things I want my future grandchildren to know about their roots. And if they want to believe in the princess, that’s OK, too. A little whimsy never hurt anyone.[[In-content Ad]]