Here There Be Dragons

Areuse Gorge
Switzerland

The Alsace-Lorraine/Metz branch of my family tree (via my maternal grandmother) had its origins in Switzerland.  That's all I knew until a year ago when I came across an envelope filled with papers relating to the Metz Family Tree that my Great Aunt Edith sent me years ago.  I mean, Years Ago -Pre-Internet/World Wide Web. 30+ years ago. I remember glancing through then, but I must not have really have been thorough, because there was an article I overlooked. It was about a purported ancestor of mine, Sulpy Remond ---or as I like to think of him: The Dragonslayer. The Gerald Metz referred to in the article is a cousin. Here is more detailed account of the battle on page 12.

I tend to take things like this with a grain of salt- especially when genealogy is involved. It's such an inexact science and it's so easy to follow wrong leads which can lead the unwary genealogist to delusions of grandeur or some other genealogical terra incognita- places that cartographers used to label as Here There Be Dragons.  I saw a lot of those missteps as a fledgling librarian. It discouraged me from working on my own genealogy. I didn't want to become like the far too many of the genealogists I encountered at work- snarling at or blaming sweet, innocent young librarians when the ancestor they were seeking wasn't on the reel of the Soundex or Census Microfilm  they'd  specifically requested.  I didn't give too much thought to ancestors who lived in far-off lands.3/4 of my ancestry involves people who came to this country fairly recently in the great scheme of things. To do genealogy at the time, I'd have had to cross an ocean and travel to archives and research. I lacked both money and passion for the project. Besides, what could I possibly have in common with those dead ancestors?

I searched the faces of great uncles and aunts and great grandmothers I never met in few really old photographs my family had for any family resemblance and found none. At best, I found a glimpse of the family mischievousness in the slight smile and the eyes of a child who wasn't following the photographer's instructions and, thus, showing that there was a real person being photographed. His mother and his brother showed that blank, dead stare so prevalent in photographs of the time. James would grow up and go to sea as a sailor. He was the great uncle I'd heard about from childhood who was reportedly lost at sea. But, seeing him in that photograph made me feel a kinship.  I knew that look.  I'd seen it in my Grand-dad's and my mother's faces. I knew I was related to that child. Or when I looked at the photograph of my great grandmother, her husband (the formidable J.K.), and my two half-great uncles. Everyone in the photograph looked fierce, except Brian. He looked nonchalant and relaxed- not trying to be anyone but himself.  I could see the resemblance to my grandmother, his half sister. I met him when I was 6 years old- a big bear of a man who was genuinely happy to meet me (children can tell) but whose size and exuberance intimidated me.  I would love to reach back in time and counsel the little girl that I was- "It's okay.He's really related to us and we really are glad that he is." But, those long dead relatives from long ago?  What could I find out that could possibly be of interest to me?

And, yet- a Dragonslayer in the family! Hmmmmmm. The article - I have the longer

European Water Dragon

version in my possession- puzzled me. Was it an allegory with the river as the dragon or was it a shining legend on par with St. George? I asked a friend and former Genealogy librarian (who, also, has a lot more Swiss blood than I can claim). She shrugged it off saying the versions were basically the same thing. This exploded a Swiss stereotype for me- that of precision.  Dragonslayer, 14th Century Hydraulic Engineer.  Potato, po-tah-to. Really? No difference? Seriously?

Either way, this point remains- Dragonslayer or River Tamer, he was a hero. Not a monarch, or a great leader, or a captain of industry. Just someone who died removing a source of great danger and fear- making life much easier for many in his part of the world. That's a relative to be proud of! 

And then I consider the Dragon.  If there were dragons, I would have expected my ancestor through his heroic actions also chancing incurring the wrath of a Medieval Wildlife Protection Agency, not to mention the Environmental Protection Agency for burning the dragon's carcass. I think of the dragon, one of the last of a fast disappearing species of reptiles, protecting itself against the encroaching humans and operating only out of an instinct for survival. I feel a sense of loss, a sentiment that I doubt my ancestor would appreciate. Does the survival of one species depend on the annihilation of another? Isn't there a better way to handle this?  

"Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage.  Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love."  ---Rainer Maria Rilke