A favorite conversational item of many Americans is "What nationality are you?" This happens often because we are a nation of immigrants from elsewhere or the descendants of immigrants. But how is it that the nationality of someone from Canada is Canadian and from Australia is Australian?
One of my favorite comebacks is "What nationality is the King of Sweden?" Following the male line back, he's French; he's descended from Marechal Bernadotte, one of Napoleon's marshals.
As for me, my paternal grandmother is the only immigrant among my grandparents; she was born in Silesia, at that time part of Germany. The other three were all born in the United States. As I hardly knew my grandmother, I didn't have much German influence.
Of my great-grandparents, four were born in Germany, three were born in England, and one supposedly was born in Brooklyn. More about him later. I never knew my German great-grandparents, and we never had any German traditions in our house. I only knew my mother's paternal grandmother, and the only thing English I experienced from her was tea, with Carnation milk!
As for the supposedly Brooklyn-born great-grandfather, I've found some indications that he probably was born in Liverpool, England. Most of the records for him give his name as John J.R. Magree, but Brooklyn has no birth certificate for him. I did find two Liverpool records for the child John James Robert Magree. His mother may have been Irish or English, but his father was John Cornelius Magree, probably the John C. Magree who was the master of the Ship Ivanhoe bringing immigrants from Liverpool to New York in Jan 1851. There was no John J.R. Magree in the passenger list. Interestingly, on his marriage record, John C.'s father was Vinsent Magree [sic], Vincent Magree was in Baltimore in the 1830 Census.
Other than possibly John C.s marriage in Liverpool, I have found no ancestor that I can link to Ireland.
My only Irish link to the name Magree is from Magree's I contacted in Australia. They can trace their Magree ancestors to Kilkenny, Ireland, and even to some specific pieces of land.
Interestingly, on one St. Patrick's Day, my mother said "We are Orange Irish". Other than her in-laws, she knew nothing of my father's grandparents.
Having lived in Italy for two years and in Sweden for four years, I like to kid that I am more Italian than many Americans that call themselves Italian and likewise for "Swedes".
