How a bag of bones revealed Britain’s prehistory

The family was all gathered, the flowers freshly cut, the bride was fussing over her dress. And in a guest bedroom nearby, a man was packing away a bag of human remains.

I was the bride. The man was my brother-in-law, David Reich, a geneticist. And the human remains were carefully wrapped bones belonging to ancient Britons, which David had been given special permission to take to his lab in the US so that a team of scientists could study the men and women who once populated these islands. The results of that study were finally published this week, two and a half years later.

They contain a startling discovery: shortly after they had built the wonder of Stonehenge around 2500 BC, Britain’s population was almost entirely replaced. Archaeologists had already known that this period in Britain saw the arrival of a distinctive pottery known as “bell beakers”, which have been found as far away as the Asian steppe. What they couldn’t know was whether the arrival of these bell beakers in Britain was a sign of a popular culture spreading between peoples, or whether they heralded the arrival of a new people.

Genetics labs can now answer questions like this. David’s lab extracted DNA from dozens of ancient bone fragments from all over Britain dating from 4000 to 1000 BC. What they found was a remarkably sudden 90 per cent genetic replacement coinciding with the arrival of the bell beakers, all taking place within about 200 years.

The newcomers were not so different from the people they replaced, if a little paler and more blue-eyed. But the speed of the event suggests it could have been traumatic – perhaps a fast climactic change, a plague brought by the new arrivals or a series of violent tribal invasions.

This discovery is just one of an enormous wave of revelations coming out of ancient DNA studies. David has an astonishing book coming out in April (and here’s the family promo

– Who We Are And How We Got Here, get it now from Oxford University Press!) that gives the first comprehensive account of this newly revealed prehistory.

We tend to be quick to attach value judgments to such discoveries. “Look! We’re all immigrants really!” some will say. “Look! Migration is traumatic and dangerous!” say others. That debate is unavoidable, but let’s also hang on to the strange sense of wonder at humanity’s long, obscure and unwritten history.

Two of the samples David carried back with him across the sea were from a pair of teenagers. He was aged around 19, she about 17. They had been carefully laid in the earth together, each alongside a distinctive bell beaker. The study showed they were related, but we don’t know much else about them. Why did they die so young? Were they half-siblings? Cousins? Why were they buried together? Were they in love? Were they, perhaps, married?

The timeline of history is being pushed back into prehistory. We can’t argue with genetic facts. But we can choose what meaning we take from them.

It hasn’t reached the same heights of success as the bell beakers, but German fashion is trying to make inroads in London. I visited a display of haute couture at the German embassy last week, a government-sponsored event to promote German designers

I was rather a fish out of water in the fashion crowd, who were beautifully made-up and strikingly dressed, and I couldn’t make sense of all the clothes. There was a floor-length gown made of leather thongs, a slim pair of lederhosen topped by a weird black leather collar to cover the breasts, a baggy rust-orange onesie decorated with a huge black leather frill, and all sorts of other things you’d never wear. But that’s fashion, I suppose.

Among the more practical items was an elegant, forest green, tartan mohair coat (Philomena Zanetti, for those in the know). I asked the designer why they are coming to London. Apparently there’s a much bigger market for new, high-end fashion here. In Germany, people either go cheap or buy corporate luxury brands like Dior. London, with its tradition of tailoring, a flow of wealthy buyers from all over the world and eclectic taste, is a much better place to get off the ground.

Berlin tries to compete with London, Milan and Paris, but it’s a tough world. Mercedes-benz has given up on sponsoring Berlin Fashion Week. I wish no ill on these designers, but if Germany won’t play ball in Brexit negotiations, perhaps it’s time to stop fussing about cars and slap a tariff on weird leather goods. That’ll show ’em.

My local council, Westminster, levies the lowest council tax in the country and has made much of its plan to ask wealthy residents to pay an extra “voluntary contribution” to fund its services. I’m not sure if I’m in the target group, but I’d certainly pay more for a cleaner street, better homelessness services and the luxury of not having my car towed every other week by a film crew.

Unfortunately the council did rather undermine its case this week by pushing The Westminster Reporter through my door. This “free” magazine (paid for by us, of course) is full of promotional guff about the council’s marvellous initiatives. But nowhere could I find notice that, in return for wealthier residents’ extra cash, the council would make efficiencies by ceasing all vanity publications. Strange.

follow Juliet Samuel on Twitter @Citysamuel; read more at telegraph. co.uk/opinion