This is an AI restoration of a photograph of my great-great-grandmother, Sarah Ann Thacker (née Daynes), sitting with my great-great-grandfather, George Thacker. Sarah was born in 1849 at Besthorpe, Norfolk, close to where her ancestors had long resided in Carleton Rode and Bunwell.
The grandeur of this studio portrait is somewhat misleading. Since the time of her own great-great-grandmother in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, the carriers of our H6a1a8 mtDNA matrilineage had suffered a marked decline in economic and social status. This decline was mirrored across my entire family tree between the 1770s and the 1870s. Parliamentary enclosure, the New Poor Laws, and the exploitation of the North American plains and Russian steppes squeezed these descendants of the medieval period. They were transformed from free tenants, yeomanry, and copyholders into the impoverished ranks of 19th-century agricultural labourers. In the process, they lost their ancient ties to the land and were forced to avoid the workhouse by selling their labour to the few who retained ownership.
These were harsh times, and they were not always accepted passively. Some of my non-mtDNA ancestors were involved in the 1830 Swing Riots. Others ended up in Union workhouses or prisons, while many emigrated to northern cities (frequently Hull), moved to London, or headed abroad. The story of my East Anglian ancestry, including my mtDNA matrilineage, is one of resilience and fortitude. We are descended from the small minority who stayed put.
This is an AI restoration of a photograph of my great-great-grandmother in her later years. I imagine the cottage behind her was at Green Lane Farm, Rackheath, Norfolk.
Impoverishment had stimulated movement. Sarah married George Thacker, who lived in Rackheath—a rural Norfolk parish on the opposite side of Norwich—and moved there to join him. For many years, they lived at Green Lane, where they raised no fewer than ten children between 1871 and 1893.
A somewhat cruel story is attached to Sarah’s memory. Family folklore suggests she was a strict disciplinarian. It is said that when she had to leave the children unattended, she would tie them to chairs with strands of cotton. Upon her return, if the threads were broken, she would physically punish them. "Granny Thacker by name, thacker [to hit] by nature," goes the family saying.
She passed her mtDNA down to my great-grandmother, born in 1878 and named Drusilla Caroline Thacker.
This is another AI restoration; from my own memory, I remember that face well. This is Caroline (who preferred it to Drusilla)—Caroline Tammas-Tovell by nature. I have had Gemini place her in front of Southwood Hall Farm, Southwood, Norfolk, because once again the matrilineage moves across the county—this time to the loamy soils of East Norfolk. There, she married into a rural, working-class family whose roots had been established on the edge of the Halvergate Marshes and along the River Yare for several centuries.
As I mentioned, I knew my great-grandmother before she passed away in 1971. I would meet her at my grandmother’s house; as a child, I was in awe of the fact that she had grown up in the age of Queen Victoria. It felt like an early taste of time travel. She would pay me a pre-decimal sixpence to kiss her. Strangely, I can still recall her voice.
My own mother grew up in the Southwood and Hassingham area of East Norfolk, where, in time, she met my father, who hailed from East Dereham in Mid Norfolk. This brings me to the end of my "Ovum tales" of mitochondrial ancestry: from Helena in the Levant, 25,000 years ago, to Norwich, Norfolk, sixty years ago—and onward through the younger generations. The "Selfish Gene" continues its long story.
