Journals of a Time Traveller

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

It is 480 CE. It is spring, and a boat of new immigrants rows past the Roman Saxon Shore fort at Burgh Castle. The few guards stationed within the massive flint walls are remnants of the local limitanei—frontier militia who have transitioned from soldiers to hereditary farmers in the seventy years since Rome withdrew its administration.

Rome no longer holds jurisdiction here; its bureaucracy has evaporated. It no longer controls the sea estuary nor decides who may enter or depart. My hypothetical 55th great-grandmother would have faced no imperial barriers to her immigration to Britannia, passing under the gaze of men whose only authority was the land they stood upon. Perhaps she brings with her our mitochondrial DNA Haplogroup H6a1a8 private variant F8693412?

They have crossed the North Sea, having departed from their homeland near the Lower Elbe and the peninsula of Angeln (within present-day Schleswig-Holstein, Northern Germany). We would identify them as the Angles—the specific ethnic group who were to give their name first to East Anglia, and eventually to the kingdom of England.

Their ancestors lived beyond the frontiers of the Western Roman Empire. Her matrilineage may have migrated northwards from Alpine or Carpathian sources, following the course of the Elbe and passing through the Jastorf cultures before finally reaching the maritime peoples of the North Sea coast. There, amongst the salt marshes and estuaries, her kin merged into a distinct Anglian identity.

Copyright Source © OpenStreetMap contributors.

The drive to leave their homeland in the Angeln peninsula of present-day Schleswig-Holstein was born of necessity. A deteriorating climate and rising sea levels had turned their traditional coastal farms into waterlogged marshes, creating a desperate environmental push. Conversely, the "pull" of Britain was irresistible; it offered a landscape that was geographically familiar yet significantly more fertile. To these opportunists, the crumbling Roman infrastructure represented a vacuum of power rather than a barrier. They saw a land of established fields and abandoned villas where a new life could be carved out, far from the flooding and tribal volatility of the Germanic north.

The arrival of the Anglian immigrants in the Tas Valley circa 480 CE would have been a moment of profound cultural tension and pragmatic negotiation, played out against the backdrop of the decaying Roman regional capital, Venta Icenorum. By this stage, the town’s orderly grid had largely been reclaimed by the landscape, yet its massive stone walls remained a powerful psychological landmark for the Romano-British locals. These inhabitants—descendants of the Iceni who still viewed themselves as part of a Roman world—likely received the newcomers with a mixture of dread and guarded necessity. Lacking a professional military to defend their farmsteads from northern raiders, the locals may have viewed our fictional 55th great-grandmother’s kin not merely as invaders, but as potential mercenaries or protectors to be settled on the periphery of their territory.

The cultural clash between the two groups would have been immediate and visible. The Britons, likely Christian and still clinging to sub-Roman dress and Latinate customs, would have stood in sharp contrast to the Germanic-speaking Angles, who arrived with their pagan traditions, distinctive cruciform jewelry, and handmade stamped pottery. However, archaeology suggests that this was a period of wary coexistence rather than immediate total conquest. The Angles did not sack the ruins of the town but instead established a "shadow" settlement on the outskirts, utilizing the Roman roads and the river access while maintaining their own traditional timber halls.

Ultimately, the reception in the Tas Valley represented the final, fading heartbeat of Roman authority. The presence of the vast Anglo-Saxon cemetery just outside the walls of Caistor St Edmund indicates that the demographic balance was shifting rapidly. As the Anglian families grew in number and influence, their robust, self-sufficient social structure began to overwhelm the fragmenting Romano-British society. For the locals, the choice was one of gradual integration or retreat, as your ancestor’s people transitioned from being guests on the edge of a ruined city to becoming the new masters of the East Anglian heartland.

Drawing upon the experimental archaeology at West Stow, Suffolk, the primary dwelling our hypothetical ancestors would have constructed upon settling in the Tas Valley was the Sunken-Featured Building, or Grubenhaus. Far from the primitive "pit-houses" once imagined by early historians, these structures were sophisticated domestic units perfectly adapted to the post-Roman landscape. The defining characteristic was a rectangular pit dug into the sandy soil, which served not as a living floor, but as a ventilated air space beneath a suspended timber platform. By supporting the living area above the ground, this design provided crucial insulation and protected the inhabitants from the dampness of the East Anglian earth. Two or three substantial oak posts supported a central ridge pole, upon which rested a steeply pitched roof of water reed or straw thatch that reached nearly to the ground, creating a compact and thermally efficient environment.

Within these thatched dwellings, daily life was dictated by the functional versatility of the space. While they served as primary residences for some, many functioned as specialized craft huts where the naturally humid air trapped beneath the floorboards served a vital purpose. This humidity prevented woollen threads from becoming brittle, making the Sunken-Featured Building the ideal setting for the vertical warp-weighted looms used to produce the tribe's textiles. These buildings were organic and ephemeral; when the timbers eventually succumbed to rot, the community would simply backfill the hollow and erect a new structure nearby, leading to a shifting settlement pattern that contrasted sharply with the fixed masonry of the nearby Roman ruins. For a woman such as our 55th great-grandmother, the construction of these buildings marked the successful transplantation of a continental architectural tradition into the British soil, providing a familiar and self-sufficient home in an uncertain new world.

By 500 CE, the sharp ethnic boundaries of the initial migration had begun to soften into a complex, "hybrid" reality. As Robin Fleming highlights in her work Britain After Rome, the collapse of the Roman state was not just a political failure but a total breakdown of the systems that told people who they were. In this vacuum, identity became something negotiated at the local level, often over the hearth or through the joining of families.

The wedding of a Romano-British bride to a pagan Anglian groom in the Tas Valley would have been a vivid tableau of this social restructuring. For the bride’s father, a man perhaps still clinging to the memory of Roman civitas, the union was likely a pragmatic strategy for survival. By giving his daughter to an Anglian house, he was securing a "blood-bond" with the new military elite who now controlled the flow of grain and the safety of the roads. This was not necessarily a story of romantic integration, but of social re-calibration; the bride’s family provided the local knowledge and agricultural roots, while the groom’s kin provided the protection and the fresh, robust social structure of the comitatus (warband).

Robin Fleming argues that we should look less at "tribes" and more at the re-ordering of daily life. In such a household, the material culture would have become a "creole" of traditions. The bride might have continued to wear a sub-Roman tunic and perhaps a small, hidden lead cross, while her husband displayed the cruciform brooches and great-square-headed fasteners of his Anglian heritage. Their children would grow up in a world where the distinction between "Roman" and "Angle" was increasingly blurred. They might speak a Germanic tongue to their father and a Latinate-influenced Brittonic to their mother, eventually forging the early Old English language.

This "admixing" was the true crucible of the English identity. It was a process of bricolage, where people took the shattered pieces of the Roman past and the raw materials of the Germanic present to build something entirely new. By 500 CE, the Tas Valley was no longer a Roman territory under occupation, nor was it a purely Germanic colony; it had become a frontier zone where the "Roman" was being slowly digested by the "English," creating a society that was tougher, more localized, and ultimately more resilient than the imperial system it replaced.

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

It is 200 BCE, and our matrilineage (following Option A) moves slowly down the Elbe into the Altmark, on the North German Plain. It is as though our mtDNA haplogroup H6a1a8 (private variant F8693412) is drifting downstream, charting a trajectory that will eventually lead across the North Sea. Here in the Altmark, we encounter a hypothetical eighty-times great-grandmother.

Roman historians later recorded their name as the Lombards—derived from the Germanic Langobardi (meaning ‘Long-beards’)—though their own oral traditions referred to them as the Winnili. Archaeologists often identify them during this period as part of the Late Jastorf or Elbe Germanic groups. In terms of both culture and ethnicity, these people were likely the descendants of the Nienburg group and the Early Jastorf culture featured in the previous Ovum Act, having moved downstream from their origins further up the Elbe some 300 years prior. Here, we witness the transition between the Ripdorf and Seedorf phases of the Jastorf culture.

Copyright Source © OpenStreetMap contributors.

The area of Northern Germany where I hypothesise, my mitochondrial DNA sisty-times great-grandmother could have lived during 250 BCE. Among the Lombards, who were now moving up into the lower Elbe region. As if routed for a crossing to East Anglia, Britain.

In the social hierarchy of the Jastorf and early Lombard groups, the free-woman held a position of considerable domestic and symbolic authority. As the mistress of the longhouse, she was the "key-holder," a role both literal and metaphorical that signified her guardianship over the family’s survival and wealth. The iron keys often found at the waists of high-ranking women in Germanic burials were not merely functional tools for securing chests of grain, textiles, or traded amber; they were emblems of her legal status and her command over the oikos. While the public sphere of warfare and assembly was largely the province of men, the internal management of the homestead—from the distribution of food stores during the lean winter months to the oversight of the complex weaving looms—rested entirely in her hands.

Her influence was rooted in the concept of "house-peace," where she acted as the moral and administrative anchor of the kindred. In a society where property was often held collectively by the family, her role as the manager of resources made her a vital participant in tribal stability. This authority likely extended into the spiritual realm, where women were frequently regarded as the primary conduits for divination and the interpretation of omens. Far from being a passive figure, the free-woman of the Altmark was a central pillar of the community, whose autonomy was protected by customary law and whose keys represented the threshold between the chaos of the wilderness and the ordered sanctuary of the home.

The Elbe served as a vital commercial artery during the transition into the Seedorf phase, acting as a northern segment of the ancient Amber Road. At this stage, the river functioned as a geographical funnel, drawing raw amber from the Baltic coast and transporting it downstream toward the Altmark before it journeyed further south to the Mediterranean. This "northern gold" was not merely a decorative luxury but a high-value currency that allowed local groups like the Winnili to access exotic prestige goods, such as Roman-style bronze vessels and Mediterranean wine. The presence of these imported items suggests that the riparian communities were far from isolated, participating instead in a complex network of middleman diplomacy. This trade stimulated the local economy by encouraging the production of iron tools and high-quality "facetted" pottery, which were often exchanged for the safe passage of merchants through tribal territories. Consequently, the control of the Elbe’s banks at this juncture provided the early Germanic groups with both the wealth and the external influences necessary to begin the social stratification that would eventually define their later migratory kingdoms.

The longhouse of the Iron Age Altmark was a masterpiece of pragmatic engineering, designed to sustain life against the biting damp of the North German Plain. These elongated, timber-framed structures were defined by their internal division, housing both the extended family and their livestock under a single roof of heavy thatch. The living quarters were typically situated at the western end to avoid the prevailing winds, while the eastern portion served as a byre, or stable, for the cattle. This physical proximity was a matter of survival; the body heat generated by the huddled livestock rose to warm the rafters, providing a primitive but effective form of central heating for the humans residing just across a timber partition. Such an arrangement also ensured the security of the herd, protecting the tribe’s most valuable assets from both predators and cattle-raiders during the vulnerable winter months.

Cattle were the true heartbeat of the Winnili economy, representing a mobile form of wealth that far outweighed the value of any grain harvest. A man’s status and a family’s influence were measured in head of cattle, which served as the primary medium for dowries, legal fines, and ritual sacrifices. Beyond their role as a status symbol, these animals provided a consistent nutritional foundation through dairy production. Soured milk, curds, and hard cheeses were dietary staples, offering a reliable source of protein and fat that could be stored long after the autumn slaughter. The seasonal rhythm of the community was dictated by the needs of the herd, from the spring move to lush Elbe water-meadows to the laborious task of collecting winter fodder. In this environment, the cow was not merely farm property but a sacred guarantor of the lineage’s future, providing the leather, bone, and milk that bound the society together.

Lombards and Angles

By 200 BCE, the Winnili were undergoing a steady cultural hardening as they drifted down the Elbe towards the Altmark, gradually adopting the traits that Roman observers would later find so distinctive. While their physical appearance—specifically the long, untrimmed beards that gave rise to the name Langobardi—was their most famous attribute, it was their social structure that truly caught the Roman eye. As they moved into more competitive territories, they transitioned from the relatively egalitarian Jastorf origins into a more stratified warrior society. The Roman historians, such as Tacitus, would later marvel at their paradoxical nature; though they were surrounded by far more numerous and powerful tribes, they maintained their security not through submission or tribute, but by the sheer ferocity of their constant readiness for battle. This period represents the crystallization of that identity, as the flexible tribal structures of the Early Jastorf were replaced by a dedicated "comitatus" or war-band system, where young men bound themselves to a charismatic leader in exchange for glory and spoils.

As the proto-Lombards settled in the Middle Elbe and Altmark, the people who would later identify as the Angles were situated further north and west. At this stage, the ancestors of the Angles were part of the broader North Germanic cultural complex, inhabiting the southern reaches of the Cimbrian Peninsula—specifically the region of Angeln in modern-day Schleswig-Holstein—and the coastal marshes of the North Sea. While the Winnili were inland riparian farmers and warriors, the proto-Angles were beginning to master the maritime environment, living in "terp" or mound settlements to survive the fluctuating tides of the coast. Though both groups shared a common linguistic and religious root, they were geographically separated by several hundred miles of forest and bog. It would be several centuries before the great migrations of the Migration Period would see these coastal Angles and the inland Lombards drift even further apart, with the former crossing the North Sea to Britain and the latter beginning their long, arduous trek toward the Danube and, eventually, the plains of Italy.

GO TO NEXT ACT OPTION A - Angles arrive in East Anglia, Britain. 480 CE.

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

I have uncovered a fascinating narrative within my mitochondrial DNA. FamilyTreeDNA has assigned me to Haplogroup H6a1a8, and my mutation list provides a clear map of the maternal journey from the original 'Clan Mother'.

The Genetic Path

My lineage is first defined as part of the wider 'H' clan via key markers such as G2706A. The path narrows into the H6 branch, confirmed by a specific set of coding region markers: A1018G, T3594C, A4727G, and T8655C. The descent continues through H6a (C2885T) and into H6a1, identified in my HVR1 results by the T16298C marker.

The most distinctive feature of my profile—and the key to the F8693412 cluster—is a rare "reversion". While H6a1a8 is typically defined by a mutation at position 3915 (where Adenine changed to Guanine), my results show G3915A. This indicates that my specific maternal line underwent a back-mutation, returning to the ancestral Adenine. This reversion acts as a unique genetic signature, distinguishing my line from the standard H6a1a8 profile and marking my place within the F8693412 cluster.

A Shift in Perspective

This cluster represents relatively new evidence that was unavailable when I first took the mtDNA Full Sequence test. It has fundamentally changed my perspective on my maternal origins. While the standard matching system measures "genetic distance," a private variant like F8693412 can reveal deeper, more specific connections. By filtering my matches to include only those who share this variant, I have found a cohort of nine testers.

This discovery has led to a moment of "enlightenment." It is tempting to view haplogroups as monolithic waves of migration, but the reality is more nuanced. When did the H6a1a8 ancestor arrive in Britain? The presence of different private variants suggests multiple arrivals over many centuries. Some may be ancient; for instance, two H6a1a8 samples excavated in North Berwick, Scotland, date to between 196 BCE and 117 CE. However, others likely represent much more recent migrations.

Many possibilities

From East Anglia to the Continent

Of my nine genetic "cousins," only three of us can trace our maternal lines back to Europe: specifically to East Anglia, Ireland, and Austria. Upon closer inspection, the Irish link appears to be a "red herring"—the ancestor had a Northern English surname and died in England, suggesting "Plantationist" roots rather than a deep Irish origin. This leaves a striking link between England and Austria.

My own earliest recorded maternal ancestor is Anne Carter, born in Carleton Rode, Norfolk, in 1661. Her family appears to have been of "middling" status—likely local yeomanry—evidenced by her ability to marry by licence in a Norwich city church in 1684. The lineage remained endogamous within that parish for several generations, suggesting the DNA had been rooted in Norfolk long before the seventeenth century.

The Anglo-Saxon Hypothesis

A 2022 study in Nature (Gretzinger et al.) revolutionised our understanding of early medieval migration, suggesting that in Eastern England—particularly South Norfolk—roughly 75% of the population was of Continental Northern European (CNE) ancestry. These families migrated from the Netherlands, Germany, and Denmark.

Consequently, I am revising my hypothesis. My mtDNA haplotype (H6a1a8 - F8693412) likely represents a matrilineal heritage that arrived during the early medieval period—part of the Great Migration of Anglo-Saxon or Anglo-Danish peoples between the Late Romano-British and Viking eras. This represents a significant shift in the predicted path of my maternal line, and I shall be amending my records accordingly.

Perhaps an mtDNA ancestor and her daughter, recently arrived from across the North Sea at the ruined walls of Venta Icenorum?

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

The Norfolk Portraits

1932: The Wedding of Ernest and Ivy This image is an AI restoration and colouring of a 1932 wedding photo capturing the marriage of my grandparents, Ernest William Curtis and Ivy Maud Tovell, at Limpenhoe, Norfolk. This project tracks the direct matrilineal line, represented here by the bride and her mother, Caroline Tammas-Tovell, who is seated beside her.

I have mapped a hypothesis of the route my mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) has taken over approximately 1,000 generations. This journey commenced with the emergence of "Helena" 25,000 years ago in the Levant and concludes with my mother in a Norfolk village.

A Childhood Snapshot This is an AI restoration of a snapshot of my mother as a young girl, being "forced" to pose with a kitten by her brother, Dennis.

The Biological Engine: A Story of Fluke and Resilience

Mitochondria are a story of fluke and resilience. Billions of years ago, they were likely independent bacteria. At some point, they were engulfed by a larger cell but escaped digestion; instead, they formed a symbiotic partnership. The mitochondria provided energy, and the larger cell provided protection. They became the power plants located inside almost every cell of our bodies. Just as a city needs electricity to keep the lights on, our cells need a specific kind of "chemical energy" to keep us breathing, moving, and thinking.

Because they reside in the cytoplasm, outside of the central nucleus, they contain their own autonomous DNA. It is the mutations or variants on that mtDNA (in my case, Haplogroup H6a1a8) that I have been following. For geneticists, mtDNA acts as a vital marker; we can date variants and pinpoint their emergence to a specific time and geographic location. It is uniquely useful because, unlike nuclear DNA, it does not recombine or "shuffle" with each generation. Rather, it follows a strict line of descent. Traced backwards, it follows my mother, her mother, and her mother before her—along that unbroken matrilineage, all the way back to "Mitochondrial Eve".

A Legacy of Resilience: The Cache County Study

For students of Integrated Ancestral Studies (IAS), however, this is more than just a marker. It appears that those of us carrying H6a1a, H6a1b, or their descendant "daughter" lineages (such as H6a1a8) may have inherited a significant biological advantage.

The Cache County Study on Memory in Aging—a long-term investigation involving over 1,000 residents of northern Utah—sought to understand why Alzheimer’s disease (AD) clusters in families and why there is a notable "maternal effect." Researchers discovered that individuals belonging to the H6a1a and H6a1b sub-branches of the Helena lineage had a significantly reduced risk of developing Alzheimer’s.

While the exact biological mechanism is still being researched, the findings suggest that these specific mitochondrial lineages are more "resilient" to the ageing process. Their variants are located in genes responsible for the electron transport chain—the machinery that generates cellular energy. For this project, it adds a profound layer of meaning: the route this DNA took over 1,000 generations isn't just a map of migration, but a 25,000-year-old legacy of cognitive resilience. This may explain why Alzheimer’s has plagued my paternal line, yet remained notably absent from my maternal family.

The Journey of the Matrilineage

Matrilineal Staying Power From the perspective of human population genetics, I have noted the remarkable resilience and "staying power" of women across prehistoric societies. Men come and go, but the mtDNA remains. Consequently, Europe has become a broad matrix of diverse mtDNA haplogroups, while a relatively small number of Y-DNA haplogroups dominate. Warriors arrive and are later vanquished, but those who actually till the soil and produce often remain as the enduring genetic background.

The Norfolk Thread Records show that my matrilineage has been incredibly localised in south and east Norfolk since at least 1661 CE. I find it highly probable that the line was present there during the Late Medieval period, and I have further postulated that it may have lingered in this area as far back as the Iron Age. While these theories are based on rational conjecture—factual certainty only begins with that 1661 baptism—the proposed 25,000-year route suggests many instances of "settling" for centuries or even millennia. I view mtDNA as a genetic thread that weaves different cultures together.

H6a1a8: An Iron Age Haplogroup Throughout this journey, I have associated H6a1a8 specifically with the Western and Central European Iron Age. The clues exist in ancient DNA samples found in North Berwick, Scotland, and in its modern distribution. I hypothesise that my matrilineage likely entered the British Isles following the Late Bronze Age migration events from the south, but prior to the Anglo-Saxon "North Sea Migration Continuum."

Admittedly, I may be simplifying these movements. The journey may not have always been a linear "westward" trek from the Volga; the reality is likely far more complex. What I have attempted is to narrate a believable route through 25,000 years, acknowledging that many alternatives may exist.

Closing Log

I hope that someone finds the Ovum series useful, today or tomorrow. This is the personal journal of a Time Traveller left open.

To follow: 

an index bringing together Ovum (my mtDNA narrative) and Odyssey of Y (my Y-DNA narrative). From there, I shall move on to other subjects within Integrated Ancestral Studies, including:

• Restored and colourised photos of my late uncle's Korean War tour. The 1951/2 Royal Norfolk Regiment in colour. National Servicemen in action.

• Viscount Melbourne as Home Secretary personally petitioning for the release of my swing rioter ancestor. The incredible pardon from transportation by the man who a few years later transported the Tolpuddle Martyrs. By his whim alone do I exist today.

• AI for time travel. Strengths and weaknesses.

• Reflections on a forty-year journey through the tracing of ancestors.

• My 18 year old Boer War veteran ancestor of the 9th Foot.

• A fresh look at my late father's metal detector finds from Norfolk, and what they suggest about the boulder-clays of the East Anglian Plateau.

• Identifying struck flint and prehistoric stone tools

• Idyllea: Revisit my adventure tale of three siblings at the close of the Mesolithic period.

• Local history, archaeology, genealogy, genetics, prehistory and more.

If anyone finds these logs one day, then enjoy.

GO TO THE NEXT ACT - Ovum Postscript

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

Okay, I posted this photograph of Sarah Thacker below, but here is a fresh scan with a little bit of enhancement using open source software Gimp 2.2.

I visited the Norfolk Record Office yesterday, for the first time in many years.  Indeed, when it has moved a few times since I would haunt the basements of Norwich Central Library, and is now in a much larger complex on the edge of the City, at the County Hall.  I didn't have any need to access the original registers - everything they had for me is now on either microfilm or microfiche.  Staff were pleasant and helpful.

What did I learn?  Unfortunately, I didn't get any further back on my maternal line yesterday.  I did fill in some details and siblings.  I did go back another generation on Sarah's father, the Daynes of Brandon Parva, Norfolk.  I also discovered her parents, Rueben and Sarah Daynes (nee Quantrill), were not as I thought married in Wymondham, but nearby in Besthorpe.  I found the banns in a transcript, but however, the parish marriage registers for 1849 are missing.  Presumably still at the church.  I feel that I need to see their actual marriage next.  It should verify their ages, and give me the name of Sarah Quantrill's father.  That might help me locate Sarah's baptism and her mother.  It is her mother that I most want to find.  She would be the next generation around to donate that mtDNA.  Sarah was born circa 1827, I believe in Wymondham, or maybe again, in Besthorpe.

I left the record office, and visited my mother.  We then took a look at Besthorpe Church.  The church was locked, I tried to telephone the vicar, but no answer.  Many of the headstones had unfortunately been moved, but I did find one in memorial to a William Quantrell".  He was born a few years before my Sarah Quantrell, so it is quite possible that he was an older brother, if the family originated in Besthorpe.  A thought was, if he was indeed the brother, then his remains somewhere in that church yard would carry our mtDNA - from his mother.

I was playing with the idea of going back another day, to see if the vicar does have that missing marriage register.  However, with time and petrol, I've ordered a copy of the state document from the GRO (General Register Office) online.  Hopefully the certificate will arrive next week.  Then I'll have another go at seeing if I can trace Sarah Quantrill's mother.

While waiting for my 23andMe DNA results to process, I've returned to researching some of my genealogy, after a very long break from it.  I carried out most of my family tree research over twenty years ago, before Internet search facilities.

A few thoughts on commercial genetic profiling for ancestry

Let me just expand on my newcomer take on commercial genetic profiling.  Although I have finally subscribed to a genetic profiling service, I have been aware of the criticisms of such companies, particularly with regards to their claims to map ancestry.

Commercial genetic profiling companies, that offer services direct to the individual, all appear to have their markets in North America, particularly in the USA (where they all seem to be based) There are many millions of people in the New World, that feel disconnected from their heritage and family roots.  Grandpa said "we came from Poland", an Aunt said that "we had a Cherokee princess in the tree", a cousin claimed that great great grandma was Italian.  Of course, the traditional answer is to trace your ancestry on paper, using genealogical methods.  It is very time laborious, can take many years, and can incur an expense in order to access many documents and many different archives.  As a hobby, it never ends.  And then there are dead ends.  Genealogy is actually a little bit of a misnomer, as it traces records of descent rather than genes, and we don't know who really cheated, or what skeletons have been lost in the wardrobe.  People lie, or even make mistakes when they fill in paternity forms.

So it seems that for those interested in their roots, genetic profiling not only tells a truth that paper genealogy does not, but it is far easier, faster, and in the long term, cheaper.  Genetic profiling companies have done their market research, and can sniff a profit.  This is a big and growing market, as people become further distanced from their roots by the acceleration of globalism.  People want to know who their forbearers were!

However, and this is what concerns me - can these companies really, honestly, deliver ancestry? 

I'm new to it all, but I can see where some customers feel a bit robbed.  They want what they call Deep Ancestry, to know if they are descended from traditional historical groups such as the Celts or the Vikings.  They sometimes want to know exactly which European countries that their ancestors came from.  "Was it Serbia or Slovakia?".  Some of the customers at 23andMe on their forums get rather upset that the company doesn't provide this service, but when judging autosomal evidence, merely indicates which regions of Europe might be involved.  Britain is lumped in with Ireland for example.  They want to know more than that.  Some other companies do promise more definitive results, but are they really honest?  Some third parties will allow you to upload your data, then use some computer wizardry to give you your more precise results.

But is it all really good science?  My suspicions is that it is not.

There are two problems.

1. As I have raised with my recent posts on the Anglo-Saxon origins, there are many origin myths within traditional histories.  People such as the Celts were not ever even a biological population.  History is written by victors, and has frequently been corrupted in order to make  political points that are now lost on us.  For all too long, we have seen history as consisting of one biological population against or replacing another, when the truth that keeps emerging, is that of people taking on new cultural identities, and of genetic admixture.
2. Humans like to wander, and they like to have sex.  Human genes have been wandering all over Europe since prehistory.   They are mixed up through admixture.  Genes have a limited appreciation of the borders of nation-states - borders which are often modern political constructs. 

I'm saying that we Europeans are all mixed up.  There has been very little isolation, and a lot of immigration.  You cannot divide us up into neat little sub races.  It's a 19th/20th Century racist fantasy.

That is autosomal information.  Each generation back, we double our lines back.  I have four grandparent, eight great grandparents, sixteen g.g grandparents and so on.  It doesn't multiply forever of course, local genetic pooling kicks in, what some might call inbreeding.  I have a pair of ancestors on my mother's side, that are my g.g.g.g.g.g grandparents twice over.  Two of their great great grandchildren that were 3rd cousins to each other married.  This sort of event will increase as you go back into your ancestry, until we all trace our ancestry back to a small population of anatomically modern humans some 70,000 years ago - give or take the odd Neanderthal or two.

Autosomal evidence can be really hit and miss.  It's all of that general DNA from your mixed up ancestry.  Under the natural law of random selection, it's quite easy as I understand it, to lose any and every SNP (single nucleotide polymorphism) from some quite recent ancestors.  Every reproduction randomly dumps half of your ancestor's combined DNA.  Please tell me if I misunderstand this, I am no expert.  I've seen claims on profiling forums that your recent ancestry up to between 300 and 500 years can safely be provenanced from your autosomal DNA.  I smell a fish.  I'm really not convinced.  If someone that knows better can convince me otherwise, please do so.

When I get my results, I'm not expecting no surprises.  I'm expecting autosomal ancestry of British/Irish, maybe some confusion with Scandinavia, and French/German, due to the general Western European blur.  If I do get a surprise though, well that would be interesting.

The two haplogroup markers that I am more interested in, than the general autosomal ancestry, are of course the mtDNA and the Y chromosome.  I'm blessed being male, women only get the mtDNA.  These two markers stand out of the general ancestral DNA.  The Y chromosome represents my strictly paternal lineage.  My mtDNA (mitochondrial DNA) represents my strictly maternal lineage.  They both mutate very rarely, at known rates and therefore have been used to successfully map origins.  They have been used for example, to mark waves of movement across Eurasia, and original movements into Europe.  They have been used to date Y chromosome Adam, and Mitochondrial Eve.  Not that humans nor our hominin heritage have ever been reduced to a genetic bottleneck as severe as one couple, but the ancient populations where all present day human populations can trace shared their direct paternal / maternal lineage ancestry.  For Y chromosome Adam it is 300,000 to 200,000 years ago.  For Mitochondrial Eve it is 200,000 to 100,000 years ago.  No, they were not a couple, there was never a first couple.

Y chromosome and mtDNA are far more interesting than the general autosomal DNA, even if they represent only two narrow lines of descent.  As we increase our knowledge and data, so we can start to say that a particular haplogoup mutated from another, and passed most likely, through a certain route towards you.

My mtDNA and paper genealogy

I've finally reached the point of this post.  Yesterday, I thought that I'd give Internet genealogy a crack.  I've done very little genealogical research for many years.  I found out a few new details about my enigmatic paternal great grandfather.  In 1939, I now know the address in Kent, where he and his partner Mabel Tanner were living.  I also learned that at that time, he was employed as a clerk and a civil servant, apparently by the Post Office in their engineering departments.  I imagine a bit of a come down for a guy that served for years as a gunner in the Royal Field Artillery, including throughout WW 1.  I do now remember one late aunt saying that she recalled he was something to do with the Post Office.

I wanted, with my genetic profiling in mind, to see if I can learn anything new on my Y chromosome / mtDNA lines, or in paper genealogical terms, in my strictly paternal and maternal lines.

The paternal was frustrating.  I couldn't advance on it.  Still stuck on my g.g.g.g grandfather John Brooker.  He is recorded on the 1841 census as fathering seven children in the parish of Rotherfield Peppard in Oxfordshire between 1815 and 1836.  He simply recorded N for not born in Oxfordshire.  His age suggests a birth date of c.1791.  The Internet couldn't help much on that one.  I still need to return to the Oxfordshire Record Office, and maybe the Berkshire Record Office, if it does transpire that he came from there.  I need parish registers.  A bit of driving to do.  I need to find his marriage somewhere before (or maybe around) 1815 to his wife Elizabeth.  I do hope that it is in Rotherfield Peppard, but I fear that it is not.

The maternal however, was fruitful.  That I am pleased with, as the strictly maternal line is the safest and most reliable.  With any paternity, you never know for sure, who the father really was.  People lied.  But maternal - as reliable as paper genealogy can ever be.  This is great, because it aligns with my mtDNA route.  Surely the best lineage to research, although as marriage changes the surname most generations in European cultures, not the easiest to follow.  A new surname nearly every generation.  My previous research on the maternal line had only reached a c.1848 date to the ancestor allegedly in the photograph at the top of this post - Sarah Ann Thacker (nee Daines), who lived at Rackheath, Norfolk, but was actually born around twenty miles away at Besthorpe, Norfolk.  Thinking bout it Daines might suggest Scandinavian origins might it not?  Except of course that most English surnames originate long after the Danelaw.

Anyway, I started to find references to her on census, and a free online transcription of Besthorpe baptisms.  She was born in 1849 at Besthorpe.  Her parents had married the previous year nearby at the market town of Wymondham, Norfolk. Her father was Reuben Daynes, a labourer that had been born at Brandon, Norfolk.  This appears to be Brandon Parva, a Norfolk parish between Wymondham and Dereham.  I'll chase that one up later, but I'm for now concentrating on that maternal line.  Sarah's mother was a Sarah Daynes (nee Quantrell), who was born at Wymondham around c.1827.  I can't find her family on the census yet.  She was living in a household of Longs at one point.  Quantrell / Quantril appears to have been a well established English surname locally, with families of them at least at Wymondham, Norwich, and Bunwell going way back.

So, I've traced my maternal line back another generation, and to a new surname and town.  What really pleased me is that none of my mother's family had any knowledge of family in the Besthorpe / Wymondham area.  And yet my mother, a sister, and a niece all live in Wymondham today!  An earlier copy of their mtDNA had lived in that Norfolk market town 175 years ago, but we wouldn't have known that before the new research.  A census also revealed Sarah Thacker (nee Daynes), staying in Besthorpe with her parents and her young son George Thacker.  Confirmation that she is my great great grandmother, and that Sarah Daynes (nee Quantrell) is my great great great grandmother.

I now need to visit the Norfolk Record Office in Norwich, to further confirm my research, and to see if I can go back another generation in my mtDNA story.

The above photograph is of Wymondham Abbey.  Was my mtDNA here?  Is this where Reuben Daynes married my great great great grandmother Sarah Quantrell in 1848?  Taken on the Bronica SQ-A Zenzanon PS 80mm f/2.8 lens, loaded with Ilford HP5+ film, developed in Ilford ID11.