The King of Scots And His Black Grandson

I’m the 19th great-grandson of King James II. I’m also a Black American.

I’ m the 19th great-grandson of King James II. I’m also a Black American.

The news came with a bit of a shrug. My mother’s family tree is as tall and illustrious as the Fortingall Yew, but useless to a man who would never be accepted by royalty, let alone people from a distant land 19 generations removed.

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The revelation was just another fun family fact that no one would believe. And as a Black man in America, it’s not the feel-good melting-pot story I’m inclined to share, with a few exceptions, including writing this piece, as part of the processing of course.

John Richardson ChambersJohn Richardson Chambers
John Richardson Chambers

I learned of this special lineage with the King of Scots (1430 -1460) from my late sister, Christine Chambers, courtesy of Ancestry.com.

Recently, however, I've been overcome with a feeling I can’t describe, possibly adjacent to pride. A hopeful providence leading me to reckon my relations to Scotland and the legacy I’ll leave behind.

The research wormhole started with the Tartan and its meaning: pride, unity, and hope. I can get with that. But did it explain my fascination with wax-canvas kilts with all those pockets, or a life-long dream to attend one of the many Edinburgh festivals, and then there’s the strange affinity for “The Future is Now” Celtic F.C.? Could it be in my Scottish DNA?

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My first exposure to the maternal pedigree tree came from my late grandmother, Sally Muzzy Pratt, a former fashion buyer for Saks Fifth Avenue, and later a consummate housewife who loved to make clothes and knit sweaters for her dark-skinned grandchildren. Her husband, Donald Richardson Pratt, my grandfather—an executive at a global conglomerate based in New York City—died before I was born.

Written with a fountain pen, and diligently researched and recorded on age-proof parchment that unfolded several times to accommodate the 300+ years of family history of which she had accounted. Her motivation was to pass this sacred family biological map of our evolution down to my siblings, her only grandchildren. And for us to continue the passage.

Bless her blue-blooded heart.

I wonder how she might feel about the advent of online geology against the decades of archival research she conducted in libraries, museums, and in consultations with academics and historians.

Efforts that didn’t go back far enough to discover the crown jewel (pun intended). I wonder even more if she comprehended the challenges of claiming a history that wouldn't have seen me as a human being. Then I think about the grave turning, and smile.

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Gramma’s pedigree tree of direct descendants was ripe with Mayflower settlers, founding fathers, famous inventors and politicians, ship captains, and captains of industry. Even the author of the first American English Dictionary followed a straight line down to my soiled root.

And my personal favourite, my 4th great-grandmother, Sara Muzzy, who was an actor in the production of “Cousin,” and performed the night President Lincoln was assassinated at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, DC in 1865. She loved to show us Sara’s costume, and the makeup box that John Wilkes Booth reportedly tripped over as he made his temporary escape. Probably an exaggerated narrative to proximate the avenging of our 16th President.

But her daughter, my mother, married a Black man, John Walker Chambers, whom she met organizing protest movements in the Civil Rights era of the 1960s. Despite his post-grad education and a host of accomplishments, that would be the end of our generational privilege and ties to aristocracy. Save for the family heirlooms dating back to the 17th century, we put a nail in the Chambers’ landed-gentry coffin.

Up until Christine’s discovery—an implausible cherry on top that I could not eat—I never felt connected to my mother’s bloodline. Maybe it’s because she’s living a life of service instead of entitlement. Or maybe it’s that unique American conundrum rooted in racism–of which I, like millions of “others,” experience, often.

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But the world is not black and white. It’s colourful. As colourful as we see it and complicated at inception. But not colourblind.

I have little knowledge of the reality of racism in Scotland, but I’m sure it exists. According to Scotland’s 2022 Census, “12.9 percent of the population identify as Black or from an ethnic background, an 84 percent increase from 2011.” That's a lot of change happening at light-speed for a population that’s been 99.9 percent White since Scotland’s first recorded history in 79 AD. That’s a made-up citation as it predates the concept of a White race which was instituted by rich Vriginians in 1676. Let the head scratching begin.

By most accounts, King James II was nothing short of colourful. While the boy king’s life and rise to power was marked by the bloody business of returning The Kingdom to a strong monarchy—a made for BBC snooze fest for sure, I’m more interested in the straight line that led to my birth, and now my 13-year old daughter’s view of this fascinating and seemingly worthless inheritance.

When my daughter was in elementary school, and wanted to be the princess in her school play, two mean-girl classmates told her that she could never be a princess because there’s no such thing as a Black princess (The furrowed brow and angry stare is looking at you, Disney).

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I fought the urge to tell her to smack those girls with a history book, and instead told her she could respond with, “I am an actual princess, bitches.” Well, not the bitches part, but claiming royalty, as problematic as royalty can be in a democratic society, was the first hint of selective pride. And oh, what beautiful irony.

Grandpa James pioneered the selfie as the first monarch to have his likeness preserved in the form of a wooden sculpture that “left no blemish covered.” They didn’t call him “Fiery Face” for nothing. He had a conspicuous red vermilion birthmark on his face, accented by an infamous temper, and some controversial murders (as opposed to noncontroversial murders?) sprinkled in. So, no clues to hypothesize what nature may have passed down. Gotta love the Middle Ages.

Sadly, King James II died an ignoble death when he stood too close to one of his war toys — a new cannon design that would further his expansionist ambitions and fulfil his decree to “Make Scotland Great Again.”

Just kidding about the last part. Heavy on the mind is The Man Who Would Be King, frighteningly selling out barnyards across The “United” States.

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If that cannon engineer made his fatal discovery twelve years sooner, KJ2 might not have fathered Lady Mary Scotland Dutches Stuart SRA, and I would not be alive to write this.

I’m still in a reckoning period with this discovery, but it does make me wonder how one might pay for the sins of the father, what is owed, or passed down unwittingly to their descendants.

If I ever get to visit Scotland, and I truly hope I do, even if I don’t get to reclaim a castle or two, I’ll quietly wish a fine lad or lassie will pay for a scotch at the pub and say, “Welcome home, chum, this one’s on me.”

Yes, that will do, and all that I wish to be due. In living colour. You can’t miss me, I’ll be the bald Black guy wearing a Scottish kilt and a Celtic F.C. kit.

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Until then, I’ll be hiding from the most recent revelation that a cousin married a Vance many, many years ago (think black and white photo). Yup, that one’s kin. Hillbilly Elegy jokes just pouring out. I wish I was making this up. Just promise you won’t tell anyone across the pond.

And slàinte mhath to the new genealogy slogan: Enter at your own risk!

John R. Chambers is a freelance writer, essayist, poet, and founder of the award-winning arts and culture nonprofit, BloomBars, based in Washington, D.C. He also shares the 19th great-granchild distinction with his sisters; bestselling author and award-winning filmmaker Essie Chambers (SWIFT RIVER, Simon & Schuster and Descendant, Participant Films); and the late Christine Chambers, a renowned photographer and playwrite.

Relationship between James II of SCOTLAND & Christine chambers.

  • James II of SCOTLAND (1430 - 1460) - 19th great-grandfather
  • Lady Mary Scotland Duchess Stewart SRA (1452 - 1479) daughter of James II Of SCOTLAND
  • Lady Elizabeth Stewart Hamilton Countess Lennox (1473 - 1531) daughter of Lady Mary Scotland Duchess Stewart SRA
  • Janet Stewart (1498 - 1523) daughter of Lady Elizabeth Stewart Hamilton Countess Lennox
  • James Ross (1517 - 1581) son of Janet Stewart
  • Robert Ross (1563 - 1595) son of James Ross
  • Jean Ross (1590 - 1614) daughter of Robert Ross
  • William Douglas (1610 - 1682) son of Jean Ross
  • Ann Douglas Geary (1575 - 1615) daughter of William Douglas
  • Sir John Keeney Kinne Kinney (1600 - 1670) son of Ann Douglas Geary
  • Arthur Keayne (Keney) Kinnie (1625 - 1687) son of Sir John Keeney Kinne Kinney
  • John KENNEY (1644 - 1693) son of Arthur Keayne (Keney) Kinnie
  • Nathaniel Kenney (1685 - 1749) son of John KENNEY
  • Nathaniel Kenney (1709 - 1754) son of Nathaniel Kenney
  • Nathan Kenney (1741 - 1827) son of Nathaniel Kenney
  • Tamasine Kenney (1779 - 1867) daughter of Nathan Kenney
  • Azuba McGray (1803 - 1871) daughter of Tamasine Kenney
  • Mary C Davis (1830 - 1909) daughter of Azuba McGray
  • Mary B Ladd (1861 - ) daughter of Mary C Davis
  • Donald Richardson Pratt (1896 - 1968) son of Mary B Ladd
  • Molly Pratt (1941 - ) daughter of Donald Richardson Pratt
  • Christine Chambers You are the daughter of Molly Pratt

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