Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index
My yDNA follows the path: L-M20 > M22 > M317 > SK1412 > SK1414 > FGC51041 > FGC51088 > FGC51036. I have been posting episodes detailing events that could have occurred during its 25,000-year journey of development. I traced a journey from its roots in the Zagros and Caucasus mountains to the Levant, culminating in a fictional temple treasurer of Byblos in 64 BCE.
From that point, I have developed two competing hypotheses regarding its leap to the open-field systems of Berkshire. Option A represents the Early Migration or Roman Empire route. In this scenario, my lineage migrates to Londinium, Britannia, via the Romano-Greek colony of Patras and Rome itself, between 180 CE and 205 CE.
A fictional descendant of Phoenician temple treasurers in Byblos had outgrown his Levantine homeland. Seizing the opportunities offered by the Roman Empire, he first relocated to the Greek colony of Patras (Achaia) to bolster his bureaucratic credentials. There, he married a daughter of his Romano-Greek patrons before travelling to Rome itself to receive a new commission.
Septimius Severus (reigned 193–211 CE) was eagerly recruiting administrators from the East to dismantle the entrenched autocracy within his empire. Our ancestor, Aurelius, was keen to advance his career. Yet, once in Rome, he found the appointment to be a formidable challenge—not only for himself but also for his wife and daughter. The posting was Britannia.
The Gateway of Londinium
Home became a town house near the Walbrook stream, a short distance from the massive stone quays of the Thames. To Aurelius’s Greek wife, the docks were a cacophony of damp timber and salted fish—a far cry from her warm home in Achaia. To Aurelius, however, they were his lifeline.
Under Septimius Severus, the province was being transformed into a supply base for the Emperor’s planned campaigns in the North. Aurelius’s days were spent at the Forum, the largest building of its kind north of the Alps, overseeing the arrival of Spanish oil, Gaulish wine, and the local grain destined to feed the legions at Eboracum (York).
Aurelius’s duties took him away from the comforts of the capital and onto the straight, paved arteries of Watling Street and the Ermine Way. His task was the annona militaris—the requisitioning of supplies for the army. In the South and East, he met with local civitas leaders; men who styled themselves as Roman senators but still spoke with the lilt of the Belgae or the Iceni. In the ‘palace’ at Fishbourne, he negotiated with regional administrators who were eager to prove their loyalty to the new African Emperor.
The era of independent British kings was largely over, yet the chieftains still held sway over the rural populations. Aurelius had to be a diplomat; he needed their cattle, their leather for tents, and their lead from the Mendip Hills. He carried the authority of an emperor who did not care for tradition. If a local magistrate grumbled about the grain tax, Aurelius reminded them—perhaps with a touch of Levantine wit—that Severus rewarded loyalty but had little patience for the ‘old ways’ of the Italian elite.
The ‘great challenge’ he had feared in Rome manifested in the small details of daily life. He likely spent a fortune on hypocaust heating, burning endless cords of wood to keep his growing family warm during the ‘perpetual mist’ of the British winter. Whilst he could procure the finest Mediterranean imports for the Governor’s table, his own family had to adapt to local butter instead of olive oil, and the heavy, hopped ales of the North instead of the sweet wines of Achaia.
Aurelius was a ‘Severan Man’—a product of a meritocratic, globalised empire. In the morning, he might have offered incense to Mithras or the Syrian Goddess in a small shrine by the London docks; in the afternoon, he was a cold-eyed bureaucrat calculating the weight of British wool.
He was the bridge between the ancient traditions of the East and the raw, developing frontier of the West. He was not just living in Britain; he was building the Roman machinery that kept it pinned to the map of the world.
In 235 CE, on the docks of Londinium, Aurelius heard the news: the assassination of Alexander Severus.
In March of that year, the last of the Syrian line, Alexander Severus, had been murdered by his own troops at Mogontiacum (Mainz, Germany). He was killed alongside his mother, Julia Mamaea—the woman who had effectively governed the Empire. For Aurelius, this was the death of his patron. The new Emperor, Maximinus Thrax, was a career soldier who had risen from the ranks; he had no use for the sophisticated ‘Eastern’ civil administrators favoured by the Severans. To the new regime, men like Aurelius were viewed as ‘palace softies’ who had drained the treasury on bureaucracy rather than the army.
The shift would have been felt instantly in Londinium. Aurelius gathered his family—which now included two daughters and a younger son. They were in grave danger. His only advantage was being among the first to receive the news at the quayside. He acted quickly before his property could be confiscated. Prepared for such a crisis, Aurelius had already formulated an emergency plan: an escape up the Thames with his wealth to a refuge he had kept secret.
Aurelius Belicatus (the son) By 250 CE, Aurelius the senior had passed away, succeeded by his son, Aurelius Belicatus, as head of the household. The farmstead was now developing into a respectable villa. He had married a young, local British wife.
In the villages of the Thames Valley, across the borders of Berkshire and Oxfordshire, the family held their place not by deed, but by the "custom of the manor". Their names were etched into the manorial court rolls, securing their right to the land through generations of quiet husbandry. The ancient Levantine heritage, once carried by soldiers or traders across vast distances, was now tethered to a few acres of English soil—preserved by the very permanence of the feudal tradition.
With each passing generation, the lineage becomes increasingly British, then more specifically English. Few would ever guess at the ancient Asian heritage encoded within the nucleotides of the Y-DNA. That a line of descent has its roots in the Zagros Mountains, and later among the Hurrians and Phoenicians, could remain forgotten for over 1,700 years.
Whether one prefers the "Early Migration" theory or the "Late Migration" narrative—centred on late-medieval Venetian galleys—the genetic reality remains the same. We know that Y-DNA L-M20 > M22 > M317 > SK1412 > SK1414 > FGC51041 > FGC51088 > FGC51036 originated in Western Asia (most likely the Zagros or South Caucasus). It likely moved into the Levant, where it persisted as an uncommon, narrow "ghost" haplogroup. Eventually—whether in antiquity or more recently—it reached Southern Britain, where it remains incredibly rare today.
GO TO NEXT ACT - Option A. Medieval Thames Valley villeins. 1432 CE
Back to the Future: Time Travel and Haplogroup Index
