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

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

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

It is now 440 CE in the Tas Valley of what is now called Norfolk, England. My 51-times great-grandmother is a young girl, playing in the ruins of the old city of Venta Icenorum. Other than squatters and salvage-hunters, the city has largely fallen into decay and is mostly deserted.

Her people are Romanistas - Romano-Britons. They are the Christian, Romanised Britons of the 5th century, and they have good reason to pray. It has been more than thirty years since the last legions departed Britannia. The shore forts stand derelict. The economy is in crisis, and their society is shattered.

Her father is a decurion, a local magistrate and landowner. He has witnessed the decline throughout his life. His tenants are restless, their economy still clinging to the memory of the coin, yet they scratch the heavy local soils with light ards that barely bite the earth.

​But a new people are settling these lands, arriving from across the North Sea. Their culture is alien, having evolved free of imperial history. They are industrious workers and brave warriors. They use heavy iron-shod ploughs and brute strength to turn the stubborn clay soils. They rely on barter and tender—trading their surplus products rather than coinage.

​The father is wise. He understands the value of cultivating a strong relationship with these new tenants, mercenaries, and trading partners. They may speak in rough Germanic tongues and worship pagan deities, but they promise a way out of the crisis. These are the early arrivals of a people known as the Angles. They have arrived as mercenaries and pioneers, and have brought a dearth of brides. My 51-times great-grandmother was always destined for an arranged marriage.

Her father had made a wise decision. Her husband's family proved they knew how to get the best out of these difficult soils. Their imported culture inspired the local Romano-Britons; by leading through example, they became the new leaders of the valley.

This AI image visualises the aging couple. They sit at home in a comfortable Anglo-Saxon house. I've asked for a cross section to demonstrate the earth pit basement below the wooden floor. These features left archaeological traces known as SFB (sunken feature building).

​Cultures often change, but those who work the soil frequently remain. This underplayed rule applies more so to the women—a rule that can be observed through the mtDNA record.

​Rationale

​Recent genomic studies—most notably the 2022 Gretzinger et al. study—suggest a significant genetic turnover in Eastern England, with up to 74% of the ancestry in areas like Norfolk being attributed to Continental Northern European populations.

​At first, this sounds like support for the old 'mass Anglo-Saxon invasion' story of Hengist and Horsa. However, the researchers stress that this immigration event was spread over as much as 600 years, from the early mercenaries up to and including the 9th and 10th-century Danish (Viking) farmers. This represents a long, drawn-out North Sea Immigration Continuum.

​Therefore, integration was often a more peaceful process, occurring one generation at a time. It is easy to see the economic advantage of marrying into North Sea communities. Was there conflict and coercion? I am sure some existed; horror stories based on fact likely served the tabloid-like religious lessons of early monastic historians like Bede.

​These new arrivals—the 74% of East Anglians who conquered the boulder-clay soils—were certainly prominent among my general ancestry. Their mixed descendants, the founders of an English identity, settled in their farmsteads, largely unmoved by the later Norman aristocracy, eventually becoming my high medieval ancestors.

Anglo-Saxon DNA

I have previously blogged details and a summary of recent investigations into Anglo-Saxon DNA in Anglo-Saxon Migration - the latest genetic evidence 2024. 

Anglo-Saxon copper-alloy brooches, parts of a cruciform brooch or a square-headed brooch recovered by my late father in a field at Morley St Botolph, Norfolk (recorded).

The two options of this early route into Britain (B), and a later Anglo-Saxon entry into Britain (A), now rejoin as we approach the written record.

GO TO NEXT ACT - Late Medieval South Norfolk and the Black Death. 1349 CE

Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index

Cherry Hinton, Cambridgeshire, James Alexander Cameron on Flickr

Most of our nuclear DNA recombines with every generation. But a yDNA Haplogroup is a genetic marker that follows along the direct paternal line, passed down from biological father to son. Follow it back, and it will follow your father's father's, father's, etc.  Most NW European males carry a yDNA haplogroup of R, or I. Sometimes G, J, E. However, I have a variant of L, defined by a mutation coded M20 (L-M20). yDNA haplogroup L is regarded as Non-European and some will insist that it is South Asian. I can reliably trace my own paternal line back to 18th Century Oxfordshire / Thames Valley.  yDNA haplogroup L is NOT seen as European. It is seen as an Asian genetic marker. The males of two English families share my own mutations: BROOKER of Oxfordshire and CHANDLER of Basingstoke, Hampshire. My next closest yDNA matches are men from Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, India, and Lebanon. 

Cherry Hinton, Cambs.

Excavation of a Medieval Cemetery. Ancient DNA revealed.

Genetic history of Cambridgeshire before and after the Black Death

Cherry Hinton 919 (sk3262) was related to a female (mother, or sister?) number 947 (sk3262) with whom he shared his mtDNA haplogroup U5b3e His yDNA was sequenced as L-B374.

 L-B374 Today

Documentary Paternal line.

I have proven descent from John Henry Brooker, through genetic matching to support the documentary evidence. I and my sibling share some centimorgans of autosomal DNA with descendants of his sister. Additionally, smaller segments are shared from the prior few generations, to support that this paternal line is biologically true, at least back to Generation 5 (great great grandparent). He was the only one of my great grandfather's not to be Norfolk-born.

If I follow his paternal line (BROOKER) back using traditional genealogical method, I follow it back to the Thames Valley borderlands of rural Oxfordshire and Berkshire. I have good, strong documentary evidence back to my direct paternal line 5 x great grandfather, Edward Brucker, born 1757 at Long Wittenham, Berkshire.

Support for my 6 x great grandfather being a John Brooker born 1722 at Hagbourne, Berkshire in 1722 is pretty good. His father before him I have verified, was another John Brooker born 1691 at Hagbourne. His father was Thomas Brucker, also baptised at Hagbourne in 1658.  If biologically true, he would be my 8 x great grandfather and that would place my Y chromosome in Hagbourne, Berkshire in 1658. The Chandlers who share the yDNA descend from a Thomas Chandler who lived in Basingstoke, Hampshire during the late 18th century. At some point prior to that, our two paternal lines must merge.

Anything earlier than 1658 Hagbourne, too much doubt creeps in, but I have candidates stretching back a few generations waiting for more supportive evidence. They are in the Wantage/Uffington area of Oxfordshire. Caution - they may be incorrect. Another candidate in in Whitchurch, Hampshire.

I've researched the BROOKER surname:

Distribution of BROOKER baptisms AD 1550 - AD 1600 by English County.  County boundaries modern, but East and East Surrey united for historical purposes.  Includes records of derivations of Brooker surname.

During the 16th Century CE, it was not a common surname in Oxfordshire and Berkshire. Its origins are the Sussex / Surrey area. It is possible that I had a Brooker surname ancestor move up through Hampshire into the area. I think that our surname picked up the yDNA in Hampshire, or in a South English port. My favourite hypothesis is that a South West Asian sailor visited, and left a son there early into the Medieval.

This hypothesis might seem unlikely, yet it brings me to:

Updown Girl

Wikipedia - UpDown Girl

In 2015, the Peopling of the British Isles (POBI) research group, published this paper:

The Fine-scale genetic structure of the British Population  Leslie, Winney etal POBI 2015

It proposed that the Early Medieval migration events commonly known as Anglo-Saxon (a better term to include the 9th Century surge could be Anglo-Danish), has been exaggerated. They concluded that the modern English had only 10% to 40% descent from these Continental immigrants, with the remainder majority reflecting earlier Iron Age / Romano British ancestry.

An independent 2016 investigation by Schiffels, Haak etal looked at ancientDNA from cemeteries in Cambridgeshire. The results supported POBI's conclusion, proposing:

'East English population derives 38% of its ancestry from Anglo-Saxon migrations'

• POBI 2015 suggested 10% - 40% Anglo-Danish
• The small scale Schiffels, Haak etal report of 2016 suggested 38% 'Continental Northern European'  (Anglo-Danish) in the Cambridgeshire region.

The 2022 study based on hundreds of ancient remains increased the percentage of new arrivals. They conclude that it is higher further east, closer to the North Sea, but declines as an average in Western England.  At its peak in Eastern England, they projected that Anglo-Danish accounted for 76% of the genome:

'the individuals who we analysed from eastern England derived up to 76% of their ancestry from the continental North Sea zone, albeit with substantial regional variation and heterogeneity within sites.'

This is a higher estimate than that proposed by the previous two studies.

Above image copyright of openstreetmap.org.  Modified to show local districts of Broadland and Flegg.

Flegg is a district of two hundreds, consisting of a total of 22 parishes, set in Broadland, in the east of the East Anglian county of Norfolk.  It is thought that with the higher sea levels of the Roman period, that it would have effectively have formed  an island bordered by reed beds, marshes, river valleys on the west and south, and the North Sea in the east.  As sea levels decreased slightly during the Anglo-Saxon period, and drainage systems advanced, so Flegg became better connected to the "mainland".

Roman East Norfolk showing Flegg as an island:

The name "Flegg" is Anglo-Danish in origin, as are many of it's parish names such as Ormesby, Rollesby, Hemsby, Stokesby, Filby, Scratby, Mautby, Thrigby, Billockby etc.  No other district in East Anglia, a region that formed a part of the 10th Century Dane-Law has such a concentration of Scandinavian place-names.

In this post I want to record some transcriptions taken from some studies in my book collection, that relate to Flegg, or to the wider area of Broadland (East Norfolk), during the earlier Medieval period.

The Origins of Norfolk.  Tom Williamson 1993.  Manchester University Press.  ISBN 0 7190 3928

The Norfolk Broads - A landscape history.  Tom Williamson.  1997.  Manchester University Press ISBN 0 7190 4801.

"The Broadland fens and marshes are nowhere so extensive that the traveller loses sight of the 'upland'.  Even in the middle of the Halvergate marshes the higher ground can be seen, low on the horizon, often picked out by the lines of woodland growing on the relict 'cliffs' of the former estuary.  Some of the higher land once comprised islands: Flegg covering some 78 sq km, between the Bure and the Thurne.".

"During Middle Saxon times - roughly the period between the mid-seventh and late ninth centuries - the local population probably increased once again, and more complex forms of social and economic organisation developed.  The Broads area became a part of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia, which was roughly coterminous with the modern counties of Norfolk and Suffolk.  It is possible that the uplands here were more densely wooded than most parts of Norfolk at this time, in spite of the excellence of much of the local soil.  Certainly, many place-names in the area seem to refer to woodland: Acle for example was the ac leah, the oak wood; Fishley, 'the wood of the fisherman'; while both East Ruston and Sco Ruston incorporated the term hris tun, 'the settlement among the brushwood'.  It is possible that, remote from the main centres of power in East Anglia, and exposed to the threat of continued sea-borne raiding, the district was relatively sparsely settled, principally used for grazing.  The importance of the latter in the local economy is again suggested by place-names: Horsey was 'the horse island'; Woodbastwick and Bastwick both incorporate the element wic, 'a grazing farm, ranch'; while the names of Winterton and Somerton - the winter settlement and the summer settlement respectively - suggest the practice of transhumance, the seasonal movement of livestock to distant pastures.  Extensive areas of seasonal grazing must have been opening up in the form of low-lying fens and marshes as the estuaries here began to silt up.  The role of Broadland as an area specialising in grazing and the exploitation of woodland - complementing the arable specialisms of other parts of the East Anglian kingdom - is also perhaps indicated by a particularly noticeable feature of the area at the end of the Saxon period.  Domesday book shows that a very large proportion of the population here was classed not as bondmen - as villeins, sokemen or bordars - but as free men, liberi homines.  Such individuals were very thick on the ground both in Flegg, and on the uplands bordering the south of Broadland, and the power of manorial lords in these areas was correspondingly circumscribed.  There are many views on the nature, and significance of such men: but one interpretation is that they were the descendants of Middle Saxon peasants whose main role had been that of herdsmen or shepherds, and whose obligations to king and nobles were thus less servile or onerous than those of arable producers."

"Elsewhere in Norfolk and Suffolk free men were more thinly spread, although they were almost everywhere a more prominent feature than in other areas of England.  Like other distinctive aspects of East Anglia's social and tenurial structure, they are often interpreted as a consequence of the settlement here, during the ninth and tenth centuries, of immigrants from Scandinavia.  While in reality, the origins of Norfolk and Suffolk's medieval idiosyncrasies are much more complex than this, a Viking elite clearly did come to dominate the East Anglian kingdom around 869 when, according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 'The host went from Cirencester into East Anglia, and occupy that land, and share it out.'

In restricted areas there also appears to have been large-scale peasant immigration from Scandinavia.  One of these was Broadland.  Viking place-names - especially those featuring the suffix -by, 'farm, settlement' - are densely clustered on the island of Flegg (a name itself derived from a Scandinavian word meaning reeds), widespread in Lothingland, and scattered more thinly along the upland margins of the Yare and Waveney."

"Whatever the nature (and extent) of Viking settlement in the area, there is no doubt that by the time of the Domesday survey in 1086 the upland parts of Broadland were no longer a sparsely-settled landscape of woodland and pasture.  They were now - together with the neighbouring clayland areas to the south and west - one of the most densely settled and intensively farmed regions in the whole of England.".

"The region's dense population, and complex social structure, are manifested in another way: in the small sizes of parishes, and thus in the large number of parish churches.  Indeed the upland areas of Broadland have one of the highest densities of parish churches in Britain.  Many of these (although not the present structures) were already in existence by the time of Domesday: their proliferation reflects not only the comparative wealth of this fertile region, and the need to house large congregations, but also perhaps the confused tenurial structure of the locality.  Families of freemen may have been keen to endow churches in order to establish their status: church-building was the mark of the lord, rather than the peasant."

"In East Anglia, in contrast [sic to the classic "great open fields" elsewhere in medieval English parishes - PB] medieval agricultural systems were much more flexible and individualistic: seldom were the strips widely scattered across two or three great 'fields' but were instead more closely clustered in the vicinity of the peasant's homestead, and individual farmers had more freedom of choice about what they grew and when.  In the west of Norfolk, such freedoms were somewhat limited by the institution of the 'fold course' - the right of the manorial lord to graze sheep across the tenants' land for much of the year.  In Broadland however - where the power of manorial lords was more circumscribed - fold courses were rare and tenants enjoyed almost complete freedom over how they organised their cropping, and rights of grazing over others' land were often limited to the period after the harvest."

Medieval Flegg.  Two Norfolk Hundreds in the Middle Ages East and West Flegg, 1086 - 1500.  Barbara Cornford.  2002. Larks Press.  ISBN 0 948400 98 6

p 16. "Flegg farmers have always distinguished between the upland and the marsh (The upland in Flegg is all land over five feet above sea level)."

p20. "Yarmouth has always been the market town and urban centre for Flegg.  In the Middle Ages corn from Flegg fed the town.  For centuries Flegg farmers and small-holders have sold their livestock, vegetables and fruit at the Wednesday and Saturday markets."

p22. "The Danish settlement of East Anglia began after 880 AD, when, according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the Danes occupied the land and shared it out.  They must have come to Flegg in considerable numbers for they gave names to thirteen out of twenty-two villages in Flegg."

p22 "The name Stokesby, which is Saxon in its first element and Danish in its second, is an interesting one.  Not only does it suggest the mingling of the two groups, but it may also explain why the Danes found the Muck Fleet valley virtually empty.  The Saxon word 'stoc', pronounced with a long 'o', was used to describe an 'outlying pasture near water where cattle are kept for part of the year'.  If this is true of Stokesby, then the Danes may well have found only cattle-minders in the valley, with perhaps small and scattered settlements around the heath to the west."

p23. "Most of the Danish village names in Flegg incorporate a personal name, such as Orm (Ormesby), Malti (Mautby), or Hrodulfr (Rollesby).  Dr Sandred believes that these are the names, not of warrior chiefs, but of free farmers, more interested in acquiring land than pillage and warfare."

p24-25. "Danish words have survived in Flegg as they have generally in Norfolk.  Holme means an island and is applied to an area of dry ground in the marsh, often a gravel bank.  Winterton and Somerton Holmes are sufficiently well drained to be ploughed and contain farms.  Medieval field-names include 'gate' for a road, 'wong' for a furlong or collection of strips in the open fields and the 'syk', a marshy strip of land by a stream.  These words are still used.  Ferrygate and Damgate are roads in Martham, villagers go 'over the wongs' from the church to the hamlet of Cess, or through the 'syk' meadow, marshy ground, which was once a navigable stream, marking the boundary between Martham and Bastwick.  One Danish name has vanished.  The hamlet of Sco, mentioned in the Domesday survey, lay where Martham, Bastwick, and Rollesby meet around the present Grange Farm (OS TG 437 172), but Sco never became an ecclesiastical or civil parish.  The word is Danish, from skogre, a wood, and is appropriate for a settlement at the bottom of Speech Oak Hill."

p29-30. "A few words of explanation are needed about the terms used in the extract.  The hide was a Saxon measurement of land, which notionally contained 120 acres.  In Norfolk, the Danish word carucate, also 120 acres, was used instead of hide.  The carucates and acres recorded are not very accurate measurements but they give a rough idea of the size of a manor dmesne ir a freeman's farm.  The demesne was the home farm of a manor and its produce went to the lord of the manor for his use.  Villeins and cottars, or bordars as they are called in Norfolk, were attached to the manors and provided much of the labour force on the demesne.  Serfs, possibly slaves, were present in small numbers on a few manors.  Freemen and sokemen were always regarded as free tenants.  The number of ploughs is always recorded on manors and on the freemen's and sokemen's holdings.  The word 'plough' includes a team of eight oxen."

p31. "The two Flegg Hundreds, along with others in East and South Norfolk, were the most densely populated in the county.  The freemen, villeins and other tenants were heads of households with dependant families.  I was surprised to see how close the number of Domesday households were to returns from the first Census of 1801.  Many readers will have some idea of what life was like in Norfolk two hundred years ago in the days of Nelson, Parson Woodeford and the Agricultural Improvers.  It is important to remember that Norfolk was probably as busy a place in the late eleventh century, as it was several hundred years later."

"Over two thirds of the inhabitants of Flegg were freemen and sokemen, that is men and women of free status, but it is not always easy to define their position in society.  Sokemen are almost always attached to manors and on some manors had specific services to render to their lords.  On manors belonging to St Benet's Abbey they were often employed as ploughmen.  In theory at least, freemen were free of all feudal control, but most had commended themselves to a powerful lord in order to gain protection.  These freemen, in commendations only, as Domesday says, had minimal obligations to their lords.  They could sell their land, often without even consulting the lord.  They had the right to attend the Hundred Court and to take part in its deliberations.

Freemen and sokemen were numerous all over Eastern England, their numbers declining towards the west.  Historians have thought that it was a Danish origin or influence which enabled the freemen to maintain their independence from feudal pressures.  A more likely cause is now thought to have been the general economic prosperity of eastern England that helped the freemen to withstand the pressures of the feudal lords."

p33."Villeins and bordars account for only a third of the tenants.  Whatever their exact legal status, they were certainly under close control of their manors on which they lived and where they provided most of the labour on the demesnes.  They had their own farms, but the size of their holdings is nor recorded.  A  hundred years later the usual villain holding in Martham was about twelve acres, but there were wide variations.  Bordars had smaller holdings, perhaps about five acres.  Bordars are particularly numerous in west Flegg where the small manors sometimes relied entirely on them for labour.  Only twelve serfs are recorded in Flegg."

p36. "Corn was not the only valuable commodity produced in Flegg.  Both salt production and sheep farming brought in extra income.  The spring tides up the river Bure flooded pools in the estuary with salt water that gradually evaporated in the summer sun and wind.  The resulting brine was taken to earthenware pans on the marsh edge where the brine was heated until the salt crystallised.  At the time of Domesday, Flegg was the centre of salt production in East Norfolk."

p53. "In the twelfth century the introduction of windmills gave the landlords other sources of income.  By 1200 windmills at Herringby and Rollesby had been recorded and by 1300 windmills were common in all Flegg villages.  At the same time the use of horses for ploughing meant that the lords were less dependent on the ox-drawn ploughs of their freemen and sokemen to cultivate the demesne.  By 1245 ploughing was done by horses on the Abbot of St Benet's manor of Ashby and no doubt on most other manors."

p91. "At Martham, as was usual in East Norfolk, a tenant's holding was not a block of land, but a collection of strips in the open fields, usually in the fields nearest to the tenant's home, although some holdings were scattered more widely in the village."

p138. "The Black Death arrived in Norfolk in the spring of 1349 and spread up the river valleys from Yarmouth.  It was particularly severe in South Norfolk, along the Yare and the Bure valleys and on the coast."

p139. "The Inquisition Post Mortem taken after the death of Thomas de Essex in 1351 for his manor of Runham states that all the tenants were dead.".

p144. "It is surprising that Flemings left the Low Countries to work in England after the Black Death.  Flemings were employed in many places in East Norfolk in the 1350s.  In 1355 a Fleming was hired to cut and harvest five acres of wheat in Martham for which he was paid 3s. 4d.  This separate entry suggests that perhaps he worked away from the other harvesters.  The next year a Fleming was employed for eleven days to thresh seven quarters of wheat at 3d. a quarter, which is considerably less than the usual rate of 5d. a quarter.  I have found Flemings mentioned at Rollesby, Ashby, and Scottow.  St Benet's Abbey employed twelve Flemings for the harvest of 1356.  Perhaps these men went round in a gang hiring themselves wherever they were needed.  It is difficult to understand why they came across the North Sea to seek farm work.  It has been suggested that the Black Death did not claim so many lives in the Low Countries where the standard of living was higher and resistance to the disease greater than in most of Europe."

I'm stopping there.  I could take it through the Peasant's Rebellion and the Late Medieval.  I highly recommend Barbara Cornford's little book.  She in particular, has dissected the manorial records of Martham, Norfolk.  She successfully brings the Medieval in that manor to life.  Not so alien.  People were still clearly very much people as we know them.

Summary

On a personal, genealogical level, I have many, many Broadland ancestors on my mother's side recorded over the past 400 years or so.  However, their main cluster area was immediately to the south of Flegg, along the Yare valley in Broadland.  But tracing back - some of the lines there had moved down from the general region of Flegg - Moulton St Mary, Acle, South Walsham, Stokesby, Repps-with-Bastwick, Herringby, Rollesby, Ormesby, etc.  Therefore on a personal level, I've enjoyed researching this history, as I most likely had many ancestors on Flegg a few centuries earlier, during the Later Medieval at least.

I don't have very many photographs taken on Flegg.  Once I've completed the Wherryman's Way long distance trail, I need to explore the churches and landscape of Flegg.

On a Population Genetics Level - 3 points.

1. The 1348 Black Death.  It killed a lot of families.  At least one third of the population died, in addition to a famine and hard times that preceded the disease for several years before the outbreak.
2. Once again, I find evidence of admixture in East Anglia, from the Low Countries.  The long term link across the North Sea to the Lower Rhine Valley.
3. Movement during the 15th Century.  As Feudalism gradually collapsed over the 150 years following the Black Death, more and more people started to move around England - away from their ancient manors and parishes.  Cornfield noted three brothers from Martham during the 15th Century.  One ended up in Ely, Cambridgeshire, another in Halesworth, Suffolk, and the third in London.  Should any of the brothers had returned to the manor they would have owed money to their lord.  They didn't, people were moving around by then.

Flegg doesn't yet have a great landscape history of the Late Prehistoric.  It does have an importance during the Romano-British, with the Fort of Caister etc.  The current story picks up during the Middle Saxon, where we currently get the impression that this last wild landscape of East Anglia was picked up - vulnerable to sea raiders.  It's natural resources at first exploited for woodland materials, then more so as grazing land and pasture.  It's almost bizarre concentration of Danish place-names and words from the Late Saxon period.  I cannot think other than that an Old Danish-speaking people - at the very least, a significant immigration, settled here, and finally founded villages and farmsteads with names.  It's not the traditional story of raiding, marauding Vikings, but of the immigration of farmers.

By Domesday it's full of people and production.  A centre, an agrarian hub.  The imposition of feudal pressure by Norman lords being resisted for centuries by local freemen farmers.  They say that Norfolk does different.  Flegg certainly did, with it's proto-capitalism and relatively (to the West Midlands for example) free labour markets.

Worth recording and appreciating.

Thurne Mill.