Marjoram

After puzzling over the name of Lily Maud Meadows' grandmother's name - Marjoram - and finding no reference to her anywhere other than the 1871 census online as transcribed by Ancestry.co.uk (not having viewed the original copy myself), I have come to the conclusion that she is Mary Ann Meadows, in all likelihood, as there are some other good connecting references to a George Meadows.  I'm still working on this, because the dates are all over the place with some children named Hannah and Frederick, which they had.  These dates don't match the ones I had for them, but the first ones could be the wrong ones instead, of course.

In another bit of blind luck, in 1920 someone privately printed the surviving registers of the Parish of Monks' Soham in book form, and there is a copy of it in a library at the University of California, which is available in its electronic form online  for all to view.  Oh, how I love technology when it comes to this enterprise.   I was able to go to the births section in 1818, which is when it is thought that "Marjoram" was born, and I found two girls born that year named Mary Ann.  The surnames are Barker and Smith.   One of these is probably our Marjoram.  So far, I have not found the marriage record for George Meadows, let alone that it was either of these two that was his bride, but it's a very good lead.

[Later]

I have now discovered something very interesting.  There is a book on Project Gutenburg called "Two Suffolk Friends", with the reminiscences of the Archdeacon of Suffolk, Robert Hindes Groome, about his father's  time as parson in Monk Soham.  If the above mentioned Mary Ann Smith, daughter of Phoebe and Samuel Smith, turns out to be George Meadow's wife, then I have something quite remarkable for us.  One of the many anecdotes of the parishoners he relates is about this Mary Ann's mother when her parents were living in a sort of parish seniors' home, an almshouse called Guildhall.

Phœbe Smith and her husband Sam lived in one of the downstair rooms.  At one time of her life Phœbe kept a little dame’s school on the Green.  One class of her children, who were reading the Miracles, were called “Little Miracles”; and whenever my father went in, “Little Miracles” were called up by that name to read to him.  Old Phœbe had intelligence above the common; she read her Bible much, and thought over it.  She was fond, too, of having my sister read hymns to her, and would often lift her hands in admiration at any passage she particularly liked.  She commended a cotton dress my sister had on one day when she went to see her—a blue Oxford shirting, trimmed with a darker shade.  “It is a nice solemn dress,” she said, as she lifted a piece to examine it more closely; “there’s nothing flummocky about it.”

I am greatly hoping to find out that Mary Ann turns out to be a Smith rather than a Barker now.  There are very few people, alas, who have a single written record of something an ancestor once said or did, beyond their occupation.  It may be a while before I can verify which one George married.

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/20576/20576-h/20576-h.htm