I heard this oft-repeated quote in an NPR story the other day, and thought it was brilliant. As a historian, I have always found the phrase “history repeats itself” too simplistic. This quote sums it up perfectly: history never exactly repeats itself, but eventually everything old is new again.
This quote has long been attributed to Mark Twain, and sounds exactly like something the witty man would say, which is probably why it is so beloved and so believed. The problem is, the story everyone widely accepts probably isn’t true. It’s a great story, and a great quote, but Mark Twain (or Samuel Clemens) historians have yet to uncover when or where the great author made such a statement. A quick Google search reveals that there are several “correct” versions of this quote: “History doesn’t repeat itself; it rhymes,” or “history doesn’t repeat itself, but it sometimes rhymes,” or “history doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme,” and so on. Yeah, yeah, but they all say essentially the same thing, right? Sure, if you are paraphrasing a concept and saying so, and not actually claiming to be quoting an individual directly. The Big Red Flag in this story is that there is no source document or historical record that tells us what Samuel Clemens, or Mark Twain, actually said. Why does that matter? Because without that information, we can’t confirm if he actually said it or if it just happens to be a great story.
Such is the case with oh, so many family histories. Big Red Flags pop up everywhere. Very common ones involve being descended from Native American princesses, famous people, royalty or nobility, or passengers on the Mayflower. In one case a family swore they were descended from soldiers who fought in the American Revolution and were therefore eligible for various lineage societies. The Big Red Flag in this case was the next three generations of the family were all born in Canada, and a little more research quickly identified that the men in question fought on the British side of the conflict.
Sure, there are thousands of living descendants of Mayflower passengers, and there are people who are truly descended from famous historical figures. But most of us aren’t, and those family legends unravel pretty quickly with a bit of research. Why should we care? Why damage a perfectly good, if untrue, story with the truth? I grew up being told I was descended from Ethan Allen, the Revolutionary Patriot. It was a great story and kindled at least some of my interest in both the Revolution and genealogy – but it’s 100% not true, as I learned when I started tracing my real Allen ancestors. What I found in disproving the family legend through historical documentation was a story so much more interesting, more true to the world I live in today, filled with people and places that would be otherwise lost to history and who I can (rightly) claim as sharing their enterprising spirit, their creativity, and literally their blood (the DNA connections are solid) with me, their many-times great-granddaughter. That is a much better story, proven in history, and worthy of the loss of a family myth.