What's in a Name? Part 2

In the previous post, I introduced the issue of naming conventions.  In this post I discuss how information about Spanish Naming Conventions can help you better understand the names of colonial American Jews and interpret their gravestones.

First a couple of general terms:

• First name = "given name" = nombe
• Last name (in the United States) = "surname"  = apellido

 

Spanish Naming Conventions

Over Spain's history, depending on which culture controlled it, Spain switched between using surnames (apellidos) and patronymics (that is, names based on the given name of one's father or paternal ancestors). By the thirteenth century, however, surnames again dominated and had become hereditary. Surnames were sometime derived from patronymics (versions of the father’s name); yet, once they became surnames they stopped changing with every generation (they became "fossilized"). Other surnames were related to where the family was from (for example the Lucena family from Lucena, Spain), or occupations (Mercado – merchant), or plants or animals (Olivera – olive; Ovejas – sheep). When families were forced to convert to Christianity, many adopted the surnames of their Catholic godfathers, for example Henriquez, Gomez, or Rodriguez. Conversos who were related to or allied with Spanish nobility often adopted the names of those families and even their coats of arms (Malka 73-75). As a result, many of the heraldic symbols found on gravestones in the Atlantic World are shared by non-Jewish Iberian families with the same last name.

Beautiful stone Gravestone of Abraham Senior Teixeira (alias: Diego Teixeira de Mattos) (1701) in Beth Haim, Ouderkerk aan de Amstel, Netherlands with a Heraldic Symbol on it (Jewish Atlantic World Database)

Occasionally family names were fossilized with older spellings (for example, Gomes spelled with an “s” at the end, rather than a “z”). Sometimes I have spoken with people think if their family spells their last name with a final “s” rather than “z” it is conclusive proof of Jewish ancestry. However, since spelling was rarely rigid in any of the colonies during this era, many families (and even individuals) would fluctuate between a variety of spellings of the name. Some names that were transliterated into Hebrew characters show a fluctuation between “p” and “f” even when using Roman letters, as the symbol for “p” and “f” are the same in the Hebrew alphabet (פ). Likewise during this era “y” and “i” were sometimes used interchangeably in surnames. Sometimes Spanish and Portuguese names changed spelling when people moved to a country that pronounced letters differently. For example, the “H” in Spanish is silent; hence, the name “Hoheb” was sometimes spelled “Oeb” in countries in which an “h” was pronounced.

Unlike the English who traditionally only inherited surnames from their fathers, people from the Spain and her former colonies often use two surnames: the first is the father's surname (apellido paterno) and the second is the mother's (apellido materno). Thus Isaac, the son of Leah Hernandes and Moses Nunes would be Isaac Nunes Hernandes. People were traditionally addressed by their father's surname or by the combined surnames.  Hence Isaac would be Mr. Nunes or Mr. Nunes Hernandes, but never Mr. Hernandes). Or to use a more realistic example (since both parents would also have apellidos paternos and maternos), Isaac the son of Leah Henandes Castillo and Moses Nunes Levy would usually inherit the apellido paterno from each parent and hence would be Isaac Nunes Hernandes. Prior to the middle of the eighteenth century, however, individuals sometimes inherited an apellido materno, particularly in an attempt to secure an inheritance (wikipedia). Indeed, in some families children could chose their surnames from among all of their parents or grandparents. Thus, siblings might have different last names. Inheritance of apellidos was complicated by the fact that sometimes parents’ surnames were passed along as a composite in order to reinforce familial connections (Malka 74). This can make locating people in Inquisition records quite tricky.

Since sometimes one’s given name consisted of several names (Malka 74), the conjunction “y” (and) was sometimes used to separate surnames, particularly if one of the surnames might be mistaken for a first name. In contrast, the preposition “de” (or da in Portuguese) meaning “of” was sometimes used to disambiguate surnames and to indicate that the second name was toponymic (a place name). Hence the conquistador Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba name signified that he was of the Fernández clan from Córdoba (in Spain). Likewise del (a contraction of de and el meaning, "of the") was used for places: del Monte, for example, means “of the mountain.”

By the eighteenth century, however, Spaniards were also using “de” to indicate nobility (and ironically for families of conversos who used the “de,” to suggest that they had no Jewish or Moorish blood) (wikipedia). Since the of “de” was at times an affectation, one finds that the same family in the Jewish Atlantic World will sometimes precede their name with a “de” and at other times won’t. Thus, Rabbi Isaac Aboab da Fonseca was the son of David Aboab and Isabel da Fonseca (http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com). Notice that his apellido paterno precedes his apellido materno (even though he is Portuguese--more on this in the next post). The “da” before Fonseca is toponymic: Fonseca is a place in Portugal. Da Fonseca was also the name, however, of a noble family, and the name was probably adopted by Jews upon conversion (http://www.defonseka.com/pe0008.htm). Some members of the Fonseca family in the Atlantic World chose to drop the “de” while others maintained it.

In Iberia and the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, a woman retained her surnames when she married. Different versions of this custom were maintained by Sephardic Jews in the colonies: for example in Curaçao, women often used their apellido paterno as a middle name and took their husband's name as a last name. In Newport, children only inherited their father's last name(s) and women took their husband's last name(s) upon marriage.

Here is a concrete example: Hannah Rodrigues Pimentel (1720-1820) was born on the island of Minorca and moved to Curaçao before she was married. She was the daughter of Samuel Rodrigues Pimentel and Sarah Lopez. If she had stayed in Minorca, her name would most likely have been Hannah Rodrigues Lopez. She married Abraham Sasportas in 1735 and kept her name according to both Spanish and Dutch convention. Their daughter was named Simha Sasportas, though if the daughter had been born in Spain, she would have been named Simha Sasportas Rodrigues. Simha died young and hence never married. After her Hannah's first husband died, she married Jacob Rodriguez Rivera in Curaçao in 1741. Her children from the second marriage took the last name Rodriguez Rivera until they married, at which point her daughters took their husband's last names. (For example, her daughter Sarah who married Aaron Lopez became "Sarah Lopez.")  When Hannah was buried, her gravestone was marked "Hannah Rodriguez Rivera." That is, after immigrating to the English colonies, Hannah and her children adapted to local custom and used English naming conventions.

View of the Gilbert Stuart Portrait of Sarah Lopez, alias Mrs. Aaron Lopez.

In the Next Post in this series, I will discuss how Portuguese and Spanish Naming Conventions Differ. 

References and Resources

• Malka, Jeffrey S. Sephardic Genealogy. Bergenfield, NJ: Avotaynu Inc., 2002.
• http://www.sephardicgen.com/

What's in a Name? Part I

Introduction

Jews in the American colonies were often known by several names that they used depending on the circumstances: a Hebrew name for religious records, a Spanish or Portuguese pseudonym under which they traded with Iberian companies or Spanish and Portuguese colonies and under which they might have been baptized while living as conversos on the Iberian Peninsula, and a Dutch or British version of their name that they used for everyday life in the colonies. Some Jews such as Aaron Lopez gave up their converso name (Duarte) upon leaving Iberia and adopted a Hebrew name for everyday life (Aaron) rather than using an English version of his Iberian name (which would have been Edward). Since gravestones in the Atlantic World often contained multiple inscriptions in different languages (e.g. Hebrew, English, and Spanish), sometimes two or more of these names were united on a tombstone.

Other times, a gravestone favored one identity over another, for example a gravestone might reject a converso name and identity for a Judaicized self.  Thus, on the gravestone of Isaac Nunes we find his name listed as Yshac Nunes Belmonte, with and the Spanish pseudonym of Don Manuel is cast aside. 

Gravestone of (Baron) Isaac Nunes (alias: Don Manuel de Belmonte) (1705) in Beth Haim, Ouderkerk aan de Amstel, Netherlands (Jewish Atlantic World Database)

Gravestones can also provide useful information about genealogical relationships as the father, mother, wife, or husband are often identified in one or more of the inscriptions. Since Dutch and Spanish naming conventions include women’s maiden names or names inherited from one’s mother, gravestones can often supply the link between the different parts of one’s family.

In order to decode Jewish gravestones from the Jewish Atlantic World and understand the familial relationships they convey, it is helpful to know something about naming conventions popular during the era. While British colonial naming conventions were similar to those found in traditional American families today (first name plus a possible middle name, followed by a surname inherited from one’s father), Dutch and Spanish naming conventions differed and were adopted by those who were from or had lived in either the Iberian Peninsula, the Netherlands, or the Spanish, Portuguese and Dutch colonies. Traditions for first (“given”) names came out of Sephardic and Ashkenazi traditions, but also were impacted by which cultures Jews lived among. The next sequence of posts on naming conventions is intended to help people understand the significance of what names are used in the Atlantic World.

Reminder: you can browse the Gravestones in the Jewish Atlantic World Database by first name.  This is a useful way to find out what names were popular among both Jews and Gentiles in the colonies.  Coming soon, browsing by Family Name as well.

Jewish Heritage Travel: The Gomez House

One of the great gems of Jewish American architecture stands just north of New York City near the Hudson River in Marlboro. Built in 1714, the Gomez Mill House was originally the trading post and home of Luis Moses Gomez. The house is the oldest Jewish dwelling in the United States and is a fine example of Dutch colonial architecture. Like many other early Jewish homes throughout the American colonies, the Gomez Mill House contained both living space and work space, a tradition that can be seen in other early iconic Jewish buildings like the Penha house in Curacao.

The Gomez House likewise reflects the opportunities available to Jewish settlers in the colonies. Although a refugee of the Spanish Inquisition, Luis Gomez was able to purchase the land for the house because he had obtained denizen papers from Queen Anne of England. In addition to the Mill House, Gomez owned a home and prosperous store in Manhattan. Gomez's denizen rights also allowed him to purchase the land that would serve as the first cemetery for Shearith Israel, for which he served as the parnass.

Today the Mill House has been lovingly restored by the Gomez Foundation for Mill House. Included in the house are examples of early American furniture and early Jewish ritual artifacts, including a Dutch hanukkiyah. Also on display are the denizen papers that allowed Luis Gomez to make his fortune. The grounds are lovely, so you may want to pack a lunch. Directions from Manhattan are posted on the house's website.

Educators and those interested in the history of American domestic architecture may find the section on Dutch Colonial Architecture in Rachel Carley's Visual Dictionary of American Domestic Architecture (pages 33-39) helpful to compare to the floorplan and design elements found at the Mill House. Those interested in studying the furniture may find Early American Furniture: A Practical Guide for Collectors by John Obbard will enrich their understanding of the early American aesthetic.

The Mill

The Mill House, First Story Dates to Era of Gomez Ownership

Fireplace in the Front Room of Gomez House, Dates to Era of Gomez Ownership. Fireplaces were a key element of Early American architecture and provided not only a source of heat, but also a place to cook. In some early houses, fireplaces were large enough to sit inside.

Denization Papers Given to Luis Moses Gomez by Queen Anne

All Photos by Laura Leibman, 2007.

Gravestone Symbols: The Hand of God

According to Maimonides' Guide for the Perplexed, belief in the corporeality of God is a heresy. Why then do gravestones from the Jewish Atlantic World often feature the hand of God cutting down the tree of life? In even more extreme cases, God was presented on gravestones as a fully anthropomorphized figure, such as on the gravestone of Samuel Senior Teixeria (Amsterdam 1717), and the gravestones of Yosiyahu Raphael Castillo (Barbados, 1698) and Esther Hana de Meza (Cassipora Cemetery, Suriname 1745).

The Hand of God has a long history in Jewish art. One of the earliest examples has been found in the wall paintings of the Synagogue at Dura Europos. Created around 244 CE, the synagogue at Dura Europos (Syria) was uncovered by archaeologists in 1932. The rich wall paintings were remarkably well preserved, because the synagogue had been filled in with dirt in an effort to protect the town from a Persian attack in 256 CE. Although at first the artwork made archaeologists skeptical skeptical that the structure was Jewish, today the wall decorations are considered one of the most famous examples of early synagogue art. Many of the frescoes are widely reprinted, particularly a Purim Procession featuring Mordechai. Less commonly reprinted, and perhaps more troubling, is the Akeidah (binding of Isaac) scene from above the Torah niche which features the hand of God staying the sacrifice (figure above at right).

Whereas the hand in the Dura Europos fresco prevents a death, the hands featured on the tombstones from the Jewish Atlantic World usually represent a life being ended. The motif can also be found in Kabbalistically-influenced Jewish cemeteries in Eastern Europe from the same era, though more commonly a flower is being picked, rather than a tree cut down. This is probably an illustration of the verse from Shir haShirim (Song of Songs) 6:2, “My beloved has gone down into his garden…to gather lilies.” Ruth Ellen Gruber provides an example from the Sadagora Cemetery in the Ukraine of the flower motif. The cut flower motif can also be found on gravestones in the Jewish Atlantic World, usually for those who died young, and occasionally the hand of God is replaced either by a putto (as in the example at the left from the gravestone of Marius Penso (1889, Beit Haim Berg Altena, Curacao; photograph Laura Leibman) or the angel of death (see example below)

Although cut flowers also represent a life cut short, the cutting of the tree has a slightly different resonance. As scholar Aviva Ben-Ur notes, the tree of life has particular importance in Jewish mysticism. As "an ancient, widespread symbol representing the `promise of immortality and everlasting youth,'" the tree of life "variably signifies in Jewish tradition Judgment, the return to Edenic paradise, the future Temple, and Messianic Jerusalem" (Still Life: Sephardi, Ashkenazi, and West African Art and Form in Suriname’s Jewish Cemeteries, 56).

Detail of Gravestone of David Raphael Hoheb (1756)
Old Sephardi Cemetery, Paramaribo, Suriname.
Photo by Laura Leibman.

Scholars have offered several explanations for the hand of God motif including Kabbalism, conversos' Catholic upbringing, the antinomian ("against the law") influence of the messianism practiced by Sabbatai Tzvi, and the lack of religious rigor in the colonies. I am curious what explanation seems most likely to readers of this blog.

Grave Matters: Converso Funerary Art

When Isaac Lopez was buried in 1762, he joined the remains of many of his extended kin and other members of the Yeshuat Israel [Salvation of Israel] congregation. The Hevra kadisha (Burial Society) of Newport washed his body and prepared it for burial. The leader of the burial society then led the men in seven circuits around the body (Emmanuel PRECIOUS STONES 81). These circuits not only embedded the dead into the memory of the community, but also helped transition the deceased from the world of the living to the world to come.In Judaism, seven is a holy number symbolizing God, completion, and the covenant.One sign of this covenant was separation.

Jewish law requires that Jews be buried separately from their gentile neighbors, and in 1677 the Jews of Newport purchased and established a burial ground at the edge of town on the corner of what is now Kay Street and Bellevue Avenue (Gradwohl 20). The cemetery was far from both the town’s Protestant cemeteries, and the houses and businesses of most Jewish residents. After being prepared for internment, Isaac’s body was brought here and buried. A year later a gravestone was erected and “unveiled.”
Like the seven circuits made by mourners around the coffins of the dead, the gravestone laid over the tomb had a redemptive quality: it, like other stones in the cemetery, embedded the deceased in the Jewish community of Newport for all eternity, but also insisted upon the interrelatedness of Spanish, Portuguese, Jewish, and Colonial worlds of Isaac’s family. Like many of the Jews buried in the Touro cemetery, Isaac’s father Moses (1706-1767) was a converso or “crypto-Jew”; that is, he was a descendent of Jews who had been forced to convert to Christianity and who had for centuries practiced Catholicism in public, and a form of Judaism in private.

Moses Lopez had come to Newport to escape a late wave of the inquisition in Portugal after his New Christian relatives denounced him for “Judaizing.” Moses was the older half-brother of Aaron Lopez, one of Newport’s most famous merchants. When Moses came to the Americas, he gave up his Portuguese Christian name (José Lopez Ramos) for a Hebrew one (Moseh) and its English equivalent (Moses). His wife was his first cousin Rebecca Rodriguez Rivera (? -1793), whose father Abraham Rodriguez Rivera (? -1765) had escaped the Spanish inquisition and fled to England and later Newport (Rodrigues Pereira 568, 579). Moses was naturalized in New York in 1740/41 and most (or all) of his children were born in Newport (Stern 175). Several of Moses and Rebecca’s children died young, but only the stones of Isaac (1762) and Jacob (1763) remain.


Acknowledgments:
This entry is an excerpt from a conference presentation given at the American Studies Association Conference in 2007. Research was funded by NEH and a Ruby Grant.