So you’ve got a hunch that your second cousin’s cat looks a bit like Princess Anne—and that dusty portrait at Granny’s house might actually be a real queen. Welcome to the utterly addictive, completely ridiculous world of tracing royal family roots. Warning: this obsession will make you shout “I’m basically a Stuart!” at dinner parties. And honestly? That’s half the fun.
First, Swallow the Hard Truth
Most of us are not descended from the main crown line—that’s a genetic unicorn. But everyone has a royal ancestor if you go back far enough; by 1300, you’re statistically a cousin to every European throne. Surprising fact: about 80% of people of European descent share DNA with Charlemagne. Yes, that guy with the big beard and the empire who died in 814 AD.
So before you start picturing your own coronation, remember: that connection is usually through a very bored younger son or a scandalous mistress. Still cool, just not crown-worthy. But—if your ancestor was a recognized bastard of a king? You’re in the gossip column of history.
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Step Two: Hit the Genealogy Websites (But Bring Snacks)
Start with Ancestry.com or FamilySearch—free trials are your friend, just set a timer or you’ll emerge three hours later, dehydrated. Type in your grandparents’ names and pretend you’re a detective solving a case that involves tiaras. Pro tip: look for surnames like “Plantagenet,” “Tudor,” or “von Habsburg” in your tree. If you find “Smith,” that’s fine, but you’re hunting peacocks, not pigeons.
When you hit a brick wall, use church records—they’re the original reality TV. “Born, 1623, son of Sir Egbert and a woman known only as ‘the milkmaid.’” Bam. You’re one step closer to a throne.
British Royal Family Tree
The DNA Test: Spit for the Crown
Order a DNA kit from 23andMe or MyHeritage. Yes, you will have to spit into a tube while your dog judges you. Surprising fact: The British royal family has tested their own DNA, and rumors say Prince Philip was very related to Queen Victoria—but don’t worry, that’s normal for European royals. It’s called “keeping it in the family” (and it’s why the Hapsburgs had giant jaws).
Your results will show a percentage of “Scandinavian” or “Germanic Europe.” That doesn’t mean you’re a Viking king, but it’s a great story for the bar. Exaggeration alert: I once convinced a stranger I was related to a Danish prince because I had 2% Swedish DNA. He bought me a drink. Use your powers wisely.
Can the royal family's crown to skip a generation? | wtsp.com
Where the Real Drama Hides: Illegitimate Children
Royal families were not faithful—shocking, I know. Every king from Henry VIII to Louis XIV had bastards, and many got titles and land. This is your golden ticket: if your ancestor was a “Fitz,” that Old English prefix meant “son of a king.” In France, look for “de Bourbon” without the capital B.
I once traced a friend’s tree to a woman who was the “confirmed mistress” of Charles II. She had four children with him, all raised at court. My friend now signs birthday cards with a little crown. Playful exaggeration: I told her she’s entitled to free coffee at Buckingham Palace. She hasn’t tested this yet. Don’t test it.
Royal Family Tree, Meghan Markle, Prince Harry, royal engagement, Queen
The Final Step: Call a Professional (or Fake It with Panache)
If you find solid evidence—a marriage record, a peerage book, or a letter mentioning “His Majesty’s unacknowledged daughter”—hire a genealogist who specializes in royalty. They’re part historian, part undertaker, and part gossip columnist. Surprising cost: about $200–$500 for a deep dive. That’s cheaper than a crown, right?
But if you only get a vague match and a funny story? That’s still better than nothing. Remember: the real joy is the hunt, the jokes, and the newfound ability to say, “Well, my ancestors literally partied with King Charles III’s great-great-great-great-uncle.” Toast with cheap wine, and pretend you hear “God Save the Queen” in the distance. You’ve earned it.
