Mary Hopkin #1

Spring 1848

My name is Mary Hopkin. I was born on 27 August 1818 in the village of South Corneli, Glamorgan, Wales, and baptised on 20 September 1818 at St James’ Church in the nearby village of Pyle. I live with my parents Daniel Hopkin, born 1781, an agricultural labourer, and Anne Lewis, born 1783, who runs the family home.

As for my siblings, my brother Hopkin died at the age of twenty while my older sister Anne married David Price and moved fifteen miles west to Neath. 

My younger sister Margaret also lives with us along with my nine-year-old niece Anne Price, and an orphan, fifteen-year-old Anne Beynon. Anne was the daughter of John Beynon and Anne Nicholl, who owned a shop in Corneli. John died in 1837 and his wife Anne in 1832. My parents did not want Anne Beynon to enter the orphanage, so they invited her into our humble home.

Seven years ago, I entered into a relationship with an agricultural labourer, Thomas Reynolds. Our relationship produced a son, Thomas. Thomas Reynolds refused to marry me. He died three years after his son was born.

I live as a single mother and earn a living making dresses and bonnets. I will tell you more about my life, my family and my village in future posts.

Midsummer’s Day 1848

Around 150 ladies of the Corneli Female Benefit Society (virtually the entire female population of the village) met at the Corneli Arms where our host David Howells entertained us in grand fashion, supplying ample quantities of tea and cake. Music started up and for many hours we “tripped the light fantastic toe” and drove our “dull cares away”. Indeed, we danced and sang until nightfall. Everyone was in their finery, and I made a dress for the occasion, dark blue to match the colour of my eyes. The bonnets were splendid too.

Autumn 1848

Why is our village called Corneli? At the market, I heard this story: Robert Fitzhamon invaded Glamorgan in the 1100s. When Fitzhamon died, he stated in his will that his mistress, his girl Nelly, should inherit our land. Therefore, the land was called Girl-Nelly, which became corrupted to Cor-neli. I think the man who told me that tale was pulling my leg.