Families can be a bit confusing. And not just when it comes to behavior and relationships, but also when it comes to bloodlines. Today, many companies use genetics to trace your ancestors, all the way back to many generations. These very companies have researched famous celebrities and found out some surprising facts about their antecedents.
Bright Side delved into just a handful of these celebrities and found some relationships. Enough for us to exclaim that history truly repeats itself.
1. Beyoncé Knowles is the 25th cousin of Queen Elizabeth II.
Beyoncé Knowles, well known for being music royalty, has royal blood running in her veins too. She is the 25th cousin to Queen Elizabeth, once removed since they both share King Henry II as a common ancestor.
2. Angelina Jolie has lineage from King Phillip II of France.
King Phillip II of France ruled from 1180 to 1223 and is known to have brought financial stability to his country. He also increased the royal coffers. Actress Angelina Jolie carries French royal blood considering she is a direct descendant of Philip II. Strangely enough, she played Queen Olympias in the 2004 movie Alexander, opposite Val Kilmer’s Phillip II, only this was Phillip II of Macedonia.
3. Brad Pitt is a descendant of King Henry II of England.
Brad Pitt is no less royal either. He can trace his ancestry back to King Henry II of England, who ruled from 1154 until his death in 1189. Coincidentally, King Henry II’s wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, was first married to French royalty, making Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie somewhat predestined to a failed marriage. This also makes Pitt a 25th cousin, twice removed, to Queen Elizabeth.
4. Jane Austen is Anna Chancellor’s great-aunt.
In 1995, Anna Chancellor starred as Caroline Bingley in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice BBC Miniseries. But she has a deeper connection to Jane Austen as well. The highly venerated author is an 8-time great aunt to Chancellor.
5. H.H. Asquith is Helena Bonham Carter’s great-grandfather.
Helena Bonham Carter is best known for her off-the-beaten-path roles, like that of Mrs. Lovett in Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. But she comes from illustrious family background. Herbert Henry Asquith, the Prime Minister of the UK from 1908 to 1916, was her paternal great-grandfather. She is also related to Jane Austen, and subsequently to Anna Chancellor.
6. Harry Lloyd is a descendant of Charles Dickens.
Harry Lloyd, who plays Viserys Targaryen in Game of Thrones is the great-great-great-grandson of the famous Charles Dickens, the author. Lloyd’s mother, Marion is the descendant of the seventh child of Dickens, Henry Fielding Dickens, who in turn had 5 children.
7. Benedict Cumberbatch is the 16th cousin to King Richard III.
Benedict Cumberbatch is distantly related to King Richard III, who ruled England from 1452 to 1485. He was the last English king to have died during a battle, and later, there was a whole investigation into finding his remains, enough for a reburial. Cumberbatch, who plays Doctor Strange in the Marvel movies, is the 16th cousin to the king. He also read a poem at his royal ancestor’s reburial.
8. King Henry I is the ancestor of Sigourney Weaver.
There seem to be many celebrities who can trace their lineage right back to English kings. King Henry I, who ruled from 1100 to his death in 1135 may have died without a male heir, but his bloodlines spread far and wide. Actress Sigourney Weaver, known for her role in Alien, is a descendant of Henry I, and this also makes her the 24th cousin of the Queen, once removed.
9. Jake Gyllenhaal has antecedents back to King Edward III.
King Edward III ruled the English from 1312 to 1377 and is known as a rather conventional king, who pursued warfare but could also show great clemency. There are many celebrities who can claim blood relations with him, including Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal. Others include Michael Douglas, Hillary Duff, and more.
10. Meghan Markle is related to William Shakespeare.
We know Meghan Markle is related to the British Royal Family, by way of her marrying Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex. But she already has famous blood in her veins, considering she is cousins with the great playwright, William Shakespeare. Markle is a fifth cousin to the Bard, 12 times removed.
11. Ozzy Osbourne is related to Tsar Nicholas II, and more.
Then there is Ozzy Osbourne, and DNA might prove there is a method to his madness. Researchers say that the singer is not just a descendant of the Neanderthal man, but also a relative of outlaw Jesse James. But his claim to royal fame is with the last Russian Tsar, Nicholas II, whose entire family was wiped out in the revolution.
12. Cary Elwes is a descendant of infamous miser John Elwes.
Actor Cary Elwes is related to John Elwes. As a man, John Elwes may have been unremarkable except for the fact that he was an extreme miser. It is also alleged that he was Charles Dickens’s inspiration behind the miserly character, Ebenezer Scrooge, in the classic A Christmas Carol.
13. The Deschanel sisters are related to Louis IV of France.
Zooey and Emily Deschanel have both made their names in Hollywood. Zooey is the star of the series New Girl, while Emily Deschanel was the heroine of Bones. And both can lay claim to royal French blood, all the way back to King Louis IV of France, who ruled from 936 to 954.
14. Anderson Cooper is Cornelius Vanderbilt’s great-grandson.
Anchor and host Anderson Cooper is the great-grandson of Cornelius Vanderbilt, the shipping and railroad magnate whose familial wealth was once more than the US treasury. His mother, Gloria Vanderbilt was the granddaughter of Cornelius, but Cooper remembers deciding to start work early, considering the family fortunes were much diminished by the time he was in his teens.
15. Robert Pattinson is a descendant of Vlad the Impaler.
Robert Pattinson may have played the love-sick vampire, Edward Cullen, in the Twilight series, but he has a real-life blood connection to “Dracula.” Bram Stoker’s famous character was allegedly inspired by the Transylvania despot, Vlad the Impaler, and Pattinson is related to him, via the British royal family.
So which of these celebrity connections really caught your interest? Do you know of your family’s famous genealogical connections too?
Angelina Jolie’s relationship with her father, Jon Voight, has been complex and fraught with tension. However, they have managed to reconcile their differences, with Voight becoming a supportive figure in Jolie’s life, particularly during her divorce from Brad Pitt.
My Neighbors Left a Note That Shattered My Heart — My Granddaughter Discovered It and Gave Them a Learning Experience
The music I played on my piano was my last link to my late husband. But cruel neighbors shattered that joy with a hurtful message on my wall. When my granddaughter found out, she made things right, leaving those entitled neighbors scratching their heads.
“Oh, Jerry, did you love it today, darling?” I asked softly, the last notes of “Clair de Lune” filling my cozy living room as my fingers lifted from the ivory piano keys. My eyes fixed on the framed photo of my late husband, Jerry. His kind eyes seemed to twinkle back at me, just as they had for over fifty years of our marriage…
Willie, my tabby cat, stretched lazily near my feet, purring contentedly. I reached down to scratch behind his ears, feeling the familiar ache in my chest as I carefully lifted Jerry’s photo.
“I miss you so much, darling. It’s been five years, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like yesterday.”
Pressing a gentle kiss to the cool glass, I whispered, “Time for dinner, my love. I’ll play your favorite before bed, okay? ‘Moon River,’ just like always.”
As I set the frame back down, I could almost hear Jerry’s warm chuckle. “You spoil me, Bessie,” he’d say, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shuffled towards the kitchen, pausing to look back at the piano, my constant companion these past 72 years.
“What would I do without you?” I murmured, running my hand along its polished surface.
That night, as I lay in bed, I whispered into the darkness, “Goodnight, Jerry. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
The next morning, I was lost in Chopin’s “Nocturne in E-flat major” when a sharp rap on my window startled me. My fingers stumbled, the music cutting off abruptly.
A red-faced man glared at me through the glass. He was my new neighbor.
“Hey, lady!” he shouted, his voice muffled. “Cut out that racket! You’re keeping the whole neighborhood awake with your pathetic plinking!”
I stared at him, shocked. “I… I’m so sorry,” I stammered, even as a small voice in my head protested. It was barely 11 a.m., and none of my other neighbors had ever complained before.
The man stomped away, leaving me trembling. I closed the lid of the piano, my sanctuary suddenly feeling tainted.
The next day, I closed all the windows before sitting down to play. The music felt muffled and constrained, but I hoped it would keep the peace.
I was barely ten minutes into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” when my doorbell rang insistently. With a heavy heart, I answered it.
A woman with pinched features glared at me. “Listen here, old lady,” she spat. “The grave’s calling, and you’re still banging on that piano? Cut the noise, or I’ll report you to the HOA!”
It was only then that I understood she was my new neighbor’s wife.
I felt like I’d been slapped. “I… I closed all the windows,” I said weakly.
“Well, it’s not enough!” she snapped, turning on her heel. “Quit making noise with your stupid piano!”
I slumped against the door frame, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh, Jerry,” I whispered. “What do I do?”
I could almost hear his voice, gentle but firm. “You play, Bessie. You play your heart out. Don’t stop… for anyone.”
But as I sat at the piano, my fingers hovering over the keys, I couldn’t bring myself to press down.
Days passed, and I tried everything. I taped cardboard over the windows, played only in short bursts, even considered moving the piano to the basement where it might not be heard.
But nothing seemed to satisfy my new neighbors, the Grinches, as I’d started calling them in my head.
The thought of being separated from my cherished instrument, even by a flight of stairs, made my heart ache. This piano wasn’t just an object; it was an extension of my soul, a living connection to Jerry and our life together.
Forgetting about those bothersome neighbors for a moment, I lost myself in the music as I played the piano that night.
The next morning, I stepped outside to tend to my small herb garden. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold.
The cruel words “SHUT UP!” were spray-painted across the wall in angry red letters.
I sank to my knees and wept. “Jerry, I can’t do this anymore.”
That day, for the first time in decades, I didn’t touch my piano.
As night fell, I sat in Jerry’s armchair, clutching his photo. “I’m so sorry, my love. I just don’t have the strength to fight anymore.”
The shrill ring of the telephone startled me from my thoughts. I fumbled for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Mom? It’s me,” my son Jacob’s warm voice filled the line. “How are you doing?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Oh, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a quiet day at home.”
There was a pause. “Mom, you don’t sound fine. Is everything alright?”
I sighed, debating whether to burden him with my troubles. “It’s nothing, really. Just… some issues with the new neighbors.”
“Issues? What kind of issues?”
I found myself spilling everything… the complaints, the threats, the vandalism.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, honey. I feel so… lost.”
“Oh, Mom, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have helped.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. You have your own life, your own problems.”
“Mom, you’re never a burden. Never. Your music has brought joy to so many people over the years. Remember all those Christmas parties? The school recitals you played for? You’re not a nuisance… you’re a treasure.”
“Listen, I’m going to call Melissa. She’s closer. Maybe she can come check on you. And we’ll figure this out together, okay?” Jacob finished.
As I hung up the phone, I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this after all.
Days crawled by. My piano sat untouched, gathering dust. I felt like a part of me was withering away.
One evening, a loud knock startled me from my melancholy. I opened the door to find my granddaughter Melissa standing there, her face glowing with a warm smile.
“Surprise, Nana!” she exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug.
As she pulled back, her eyes widened in horror. “Nana, who did this to your wall?”
I burst into tears, the whole story spilling out between sobs. Melissa’s expression darkened with each word.
“Oh, Nana,” she said softly, leading me to the couch. “How dare they do this to you? Did you report them?”
“I didn’t want to make a fuss. It’s just… it’s been so hard, sweetie. That piano, it’s all I have left of your grandpa.”
Melissa’s eyes filled with tears. “I know, Nana. We’ll fix this, I promise.”
“How?” I asked, feeling hopeless. “They hate my music. They hate me.”
Melissa took my hands in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. “They can shove their hatred up their butts, Nana. They don’t even know you. These entitled brats are about to learn what happens when you mess with the wrong pianist!”
The next day, Melissa was a whirlwind of activity. She made calls, ordered some supplies, and even enlisted the help of some neighbors I’d known for years.
“Nana, we’re going to teach those Grinches a lesson about respect.”
That evening, Melissa set up small speakers around the Grinches’ property, carefully hidden in the boxwood bushes under their windows.
When their car pulled into the driveway, she winked at me. “Show time, Nana!”
As soon as the Grinches disappeared inside, soft piano music began to play from the hidden speakers, barely audible at first. They rushed out, looking confused. Then suddenly, the music changed to a medley of barking dogs and car alarms.
I couldn’t help but giggle as I watched them run around, trying to find the source of the noise.
Melissa grinned triumphantly. “And now, for the grand finale,” she said, pressing a red button on a remote control-like device.
The air was filled with the most ridiculous assortment of fart sounds I’d ever heard. I doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down my face.
“Melissa!” I gasped between giggles. “You’re terrible!”
She hugged me tight. “Nobody messes with my Nana. Besides, a little harmless payback never hurt anyone.”
As we watched the Grinches frantically searching their yard, I was pleased. “Thank you, sweetheart,” I said softly. “For reminding me to stand up for myself.”
The next morning, a crew arrived at my house. To my amazement, they began converting my piano room into a state-of-the-art soundproof studio.
“Now you can play whenever you want, Nana,” Melissa said, squeezing my hand. “No one will ever tell you to stop again.”
As the workers finished up, I sat down at my newly polished piano. My fingers trembled as they touched the keys, but as soon as I began to play, it was like coming home.
The familiar strains of “Moon River” filled the air, and I closed my eyes, feeling Jerry’s presence all around me.
“That’s my girl,” I could almost hear him say. “Play on, Bessie. Play on.”
Melissa danced around the room, a glass of wine in hand. “You rock, Nana!” she cheered. “Grandpa would be so proud.”
As the last notes faded away, I turned to her with tears in my eyes. “Thank you, sweetheart. You’ve given me back my voice.”
“No, Nana,” Melissa said, kneeling beside me. “You’ve always had your voice. I just helped you remember how to use it.”
All too soon, it was time for Melissa to leave. As we stood in the driveway, waiting for her taxi, she handed me the remote control-like device.
“Just in case those Grinches act up again,” she winked. “One press, and it’s fart city. But I don’t think you’ll need it. The whole neighborhood’s got your back now, Nana!”
I hugged her tightly. “I love you so much, Melissa. Thank you for everything.”
“I love you too, Nana. Promise me you’ll keep playing, no matter what anyone says.”
“I promise,” I said, my voice strong and sure.
As I watched the taxi disappear down the street, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my son: “How are you doing, Mom? Melissa told me everything. I’m so proud of you. Love you. ”
I smiled, tears pricking my eyes as I typed back: “I’m doing better than I have in weeks. Thank you for being there for me. I love you too. ”
Turning back to my house, I could have sworn I saw Jerry standing near the piano, arms wide open, beckoning me to play.
I wiped away a stray tear of joy and walked inside, closing the door behind me. The piano was waiting, and this time, nothing would stop me from playing.
As my fingers touched the keys, I felt whole again. The music swelled, filling every corner of my home and my heart. And somewhere, I knew Jerry was listening, smiling, and dancing along.
“This one’s for you, my love,” I whispered, as the melody of our favorite song carried me away. “And for our family, who never gave up on me!”
The notes of “Moon River” floated through the air. As I played, I felt stronger than ever, surrounded by the love of those who mattered most, both here and beyond.
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