Naming Practices in Eighteenth-And Nineteenth-Century Brazil: Names, Namesakes, and Families in The Parish of Sa o Jos E, Minas Gerais

Article
Journal of Family History

2015, Vol. 40(1) 64-91
ª 2014 The Author(s)
Naming Practices Reprints and permission:
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in Eighteenth- and DOI: 10.1177/0363199014562556
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Nineteenth-century Brazil:
Names, Namesakes, and
Families in the Parish of
São José, Minas Gerais
Douglas C. Libby1 and Zephyr Frank1
Abstract
This article explores the onomastic universe of the parish of São José del Rei, Minas Gerais, during
the period 1751–1890. The analysis draws upon a nearly complete set of parish registers of births,
augmented by extensive marriage, death, and supplemental census records. The results of the
research provide new information regarding patterns of naming at both the aggregate level of social
groups and at the intergenerational level made accessible to study through family reconstruction.
Slave, freed, and free children bore significantly different names. Family ties reached across gen-
erations through naming practices, revealing a more stable and enduring social structure.
Keywords
Brazil, Minas Gerais, Portuguese America, onomastics, slavery, family reconstruction
Introduction
The study of naming practices, onomastics, offers a powerful tool for understanding social relations
in the past. In this article, we approach the study of names in two ways. First, in the aggregate, we
seek to show how patterns of names reveal distinctions among general social categories—for
instance, slave, freed, and free in nineteenth-century Brazil. Such analysis can begin to answer ques-
tions about the relative social distance between one category and another. Second, names can be
used to discern the depth and extent of social relationships in particular families and communities
over time through the reconstruction of intergenerational naming practices. Taken together, these
approaches to the study of naming practices bridge the divide between macro- and micro-history,
between demography and individual or family experience across generations.
1
Department of History, Stanford University, Stanford University, Stanford, CA, USA
Corresponding Author:
Zephyr Frank, Department of History, Stanford University, Stanford, CA 94305, USA.
Email: zfrank@stanford.edu
Libby and Frank 65
In the first section of the article, we conduct a census of given names, providing an overview of
the universe of possible names from which parents, owners, and other interested parties (such as
godparents) selected for children baptized in the parish of São José del Rei, Minas Gerais, during
the period 1751–1890.1 The origins of names are explored, distinguishing religious from secular
names, and classical from saintly. Patterns of change in the popularity of names are graphed
according to the mother’s condition. In the second section, we offer a detailed analysis of naming
practices in specific families over multiple generations. This section highlights the possibilities
offered by working with large databases of linked data, allowing the tracing of naming practices
well beyond the limits of particular baptismal registers (one event) and relating them to the whole
range of known naming relationships revealed in an extended family history. Such an approach
reveals that naming of children was often based on familial inflection and that names of extended
kin were chosen far more commonly than suggested in previous studies. Moreover, for at least one
family from humble slave origins over the course of seven generations, we find strong evidence for
a much higher degree of rootedness than the literature on colonial era mobility tends to suggest.2
This finding suggests a more complex range of stability or itinerancy of colonial and imperial era
populations in Brazil.3
The Onomastic Universe of Eighteenth- and Nineteenth-century

São José
In the more than 30,000 São José baptismal registers examined, more than 1,000 different proper
names appear: more precisely 502 female names and 511 male names.4 In this first section, we
explain general patterns in naming practices according to underlying religious and cultural norms.
We begin by considering the formal and informal rules that governed the conferral of names on
children at baptism. Concurrently, we discuss the distinctions that appear in naming practices
according to gender. Finally, we examine the way a child’s status as free, freed, or slave interacted
with the former considerations and further influenced naming practices.
The vast majority of children bore names coming from a markedly reduced pool of choices. A
few names were used repeatedly; most were used seldom or but once. Throughout the eighteenth
and nineteenth centuries, choices of names were restricted by social convention steeped in reli-
gious tradition. The Constituições Primeiras do Arcebispado da Bahia, a compendium of church
norms elaborated in 1707 as an adaptation to conditions in Portuguese America, deal very suc-
cinctly with the issue of naming practices. Under the heading of how the sacrament of baptism
should be administered, it is stated that the presiding cleric must ‘‘ . . . inform . . . the name that the
child shall have: none but those of canonized or beatified Saints shall be accepted . . . ’’5 Saints’
names were by far the most common for both boys and girls during the entire period under exam-
ination. Overall, no less than 86.0 percent of infants took the names of saints. That was the case for
well over 90 percent of all boys—whether born to freeborn, manumitted, or slave mothers.6 Close
to 80 percent of the daughters of freeborn and freed mothers took saints’ names, while among
slave girls the corresponding proportion stood at just over 70 percent.7 While saints’ names pre-
dominated in all categories, it appears that there was more flexibility in the choice of names for
girls, in particular for slave girls. We are not suggesting that most children were actually being
named after saints, per se, but rather that the pool of acceptable names was overwhelming made
up of saints’ names, which may or may not have carried specific religious feelings on the part of
the parents. Rather, most children received the names of blood or fictive relatives bearing the
names of saints.
The extensive roll of names attests to some flexibility in naming practices.8 Variations were
acceptable, as were diminutives and derivatives. A few boys, for example, were named Lourenciano
or Luisinho, presumably honoring São Lourenço and São Luı́s, respectively. Girls could receive the
66 Journal of Family History 40(1)
feminine versions of the names of male saints: Agostinha/Agostinho, Apolinária/Apolinário, Josefa/

José, Raimunda/Raimundo, among others, or diminutives such as Firmiana and Firminiana for Santa
Firmina. These derivatives were more frequently employed for girls and accounted for approxi-
mately 2 percent of all female names in the São José registers, but only about 1 percent of names
given to male infants. Names of classical origin, above all Latin and Greek but including other
ancient languages, provided alternatives that appear to have been acceptable to clerics and families
alike. The fact that many of these classical names shared linguistic roots with those of saints surely
contributed to their acceptability.9 Slightly less than one-tenth (9.9 percent) of all parish children
bore the names of classical origin, although girls of all conditions were roughly three times more
likely than boys to receive such names.10 Names originating in modern European languages also
appear in the registers, although in reduced numbers. Once again, links to saints are visible in a num-
ber of cases.11 These European names accounted for a mere 2.2 percent of all infant names in our
sample and were much more likely to be used for girls than for boys.12
Yet again underlining the importance of religious considerations for choices of names and in
the daily lives of parishioners throughout our period, biblical names also turned up in the baptis-
mal entries, although not in great numbers. Boys might be called Alencar, Ariel, Isaias, Israel,
Jacó, Joel, Malaquias, or Salatiel; girls Diná, Eva, or Rachel. Some 1 percent of all parish children
were given biblical names, but among slave boys and girls, the proportions were higher—1.3 per-
cent and 2.6 percent, respectively. The popularity of biblical names increased during the nine-
teenth century. For more than a century (1753–1859), Eva was by far the most common
biblical name for girls and accounted for an impressive 2.3 percent of all slave girls—a finding
we shall discuss a bit later. Finally, a total of 138 infants (0.5 percent of the sample) received
names of unknown origin. There may be a few fused appellations13 in this grouping—a very com-
mon practice in twentieth-century Brazil—but for the most part these names were quite simply
made up and not a few were based on classical inspirations. These invented names became more
common during the nineteenth century. Far from being a monopoly of post–World War II Brazil,
‘‘invented names’’ have been around for a long, long time, since a few of the more unusual names
date from the second half of the eighteenth century.14
What truly stands out in these findings from the São José parish is the fact that not a single name
of any identifiable African origin turned up. In earlier studies,15 it was shown that Africans made up
a majority of slaves in the region at least until the turn of the eighteenth century and would continue
to be an important presence until the mid nineteenth century. Despite that presence, it would seem
that the clergy and most probably the free parish society were decidedly unwilling to permit that
slave children be given African names.16 In much, the same vein and in keeping with years of
research in which the São José sources have yielded precious little in the way of evidence denoting
the presence of indigenous elements in the regional population,17 the baptismal registers contain a
single name of Amerindian origin. In 1794, the slave girl Jacira was baptized at the outlying chapel
of Japão. Unfortunately, the baptismal entry gives no clue as to why this child was given an indigen-
ous name and thus far, no further information has turned up in any of our other sources.18
Despite this modest degree of variety, we reiterate that the vast majority of children were named
after saints and that the onomastic universe of the region in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries
was markedly constrained by the influence of the Catholic Church. Equally important is that infants
were very often named for next of kin and over time that led to the repetition of names. Together,
these factors meant that naming practices remained quite stable over the entire period. Given the
relatively reduced pool of frequently used appellations, these naming practices steeped in family
inflection obviously reinforced the overall tendency favoring the choice of saintly names.
Table 1 displays the ten most common names given at baptism to boys and girls in the São José
parish from 1751 to 1890. Among boys close to two-thirds (65.6 percent) received the names of
these popular saints and it should be recalled that the employment other saint’s names and of
Libby and Frank 67
Table 1. Ten Most Frequent Names of Infants Given at Baptism, as a Percentage of All Boys’ and Girls’ Names,
Parish of São José, 1751–1890.
Boys’ names Girls’ names
N Percent N Percent
José 1,992 12.9 Maria 3,132 20.9
Antônio 1,713 11.1 Ana 1,911 12.7
Manoel 1,618 10.5 Francisca 744 5.0
Francisco 1,426 9.2 Rita 519 3.5
João 1,334 8.6 Joaquina 514 3.4
Joaquim 1,201 7.8 Joana 454 3.0
Vicente 244 1.6 Antônia 358 2.4
Pedro 234 1.5 Tereza 291 1.9
Luis 194 1.3 Mariana 275 1.8
Domingos 171 1.1 Rosa 261 1.7
All male names 15,439 100.0 All female names 15,004 100.0
Source: APSASJRM, Livros 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10A, 11, 11A, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 20, 21, and 22; APNSGPT, Livro 1A.
variations added even more weight to saintly inspiration in naming practices. More than half of all
girls (54.5 percent) bore the names of only nine saints19 and, again, variations of the latter and of
male saints’ names as well as other beatified names further reinforced Church influence in the choice
of names for newborn infants. In fact, no fewer than 76.9 percent of all infant girls were names for
saints—this count excludes variations, diminutives, and the common usage of female versions of
male saints’ names—while the corresponding figure for all boys was a whopping 94.5 percent. Part
of the explanation for the less skewed distribution of female names lies in the frequent usage of fem-
inine versions of masculine saintly names. It is no surprise that in the parish of Santo Antônio da Vila
de São José both José and Antônio were popular names and accounted for close to a quarter of all
boys’ names. The corresponding female name Josefa was also quite popular, making up a respect-
able 1.5 percent of all girls’ names. Santa Antônia was the inspiration for another 2.4 percent of
infant female appellations found in our sample. Antônia and Josefa were, however, no match for
Maria (20.9 percent), Ana (12.7 percent), or Francisca (5 percent).
The primary reason for the remarkable popularity of Maria, Ana, José, and Antônio was that
they frequently were combined into compound names such as Maria Tereza, Ana Rosa, José Car-
los, or Antônio Cândido, among many, many others.20 Compound names, however, almost never
appear in baptismal entries suggesting that only a single name could be used for the sacrament
even though the Constituições Primeiras make no mention of any such rule. Indeed, twins occa-
sionally were baptized with the same name.21 Given the limitations of baptismal registers in this
respect, it is necessary to utilize other parish records in order to estimate the frequency of com-
pound names. Marriage registers offer the best source for complete names during the period. Tak-
ing the most common name, Maria, as an example, the marriage registers show that just 12.6
percent of women with this first given name were registered without a compound second given
name. Of these, 87 percent were slaves. Thus, the vast majority of the 22 percent of women with
the first given name of Maria in the marriage registers were actually known (and officially regis-
tered accordingly) by an additional name, such as José, Antonia, Francisca, or the like. With these
composite names, the differentiating function of given names was met while the religious and
social imperatives to select from a restricted number of popular given names, often from family
relations, were also upheld.22
Thus, the putative limitations placed on naming practices by Church regulations and tradition,
were easily overcome by the use of compound proper names as well as diminutives that could stick
Table 2. Ten Most Frequent Names of Infants Born to Freeborn Mothers, as a Percentage of All Boys’ and
Girls’ Names, Parish of São José, 1751–1890.
Names given to Names given to girls

boys of freeborn mothers of freeborn mothers
N Percent N Percent
José 1,548 15.9 Maria 2,339 24.5
Antônio 1,238 12.7 Ana 1,414 14.8
Manoel 1,095 11.2 Francisca 542 5.7
Francisco 1,021 10.5 Joaquina 361 3.8
João 981 10.1 Rita 297 3.1
Joaquim 839 8.6 Joana 282 3.0
Pedro 126 1.3 Mariana 201 2.1
Luis 118 1.2 Tereza 165 17
Domingos 100 1.0 Rosa 148 1.5
Source: see Table 1.
with individuals throughout their lives, and, of course nicknames that could also follow people from
cradle to grave. In the end, our shallow pool of officially sanctioned names did not act as a barrier to
innovation in the sphere in which proper names mattered. That is to say that, where social relations
mattered, individual creativity could reign supreme, obviating baptismal practices that did not allow
for the use of compound names. That creativity is the very hallmark of the current Brazilian naming
system. Individualism thus could go far beyond what Church record keeping generally suggests. A
very curious point emerges here. It seems that the very limitations imposed by priestly intervention
at birth must have encouraged individuality in terms of what names people actually bore both as chil-
dren and adults. These off-the-books practices are by definition inaccessible to research via the doc-
uments available in parish archives.
As Tables 1–4 show, differences appear when examining naming practices according to the legal
condition of mothers. The relatively small number of popular given names was not evenly
distributed.23
Table 2 displays the top ranking names given to infant boys and girls born to freeborn mothers.
These males accounted for just short of two-thirds (63.2 percent) of all infant boys, just as the
females born to freeborn mothers corresponded to just under two-thirds (63.6 percent) of all girls.
Thus, the top ten ranking names of boys born to freeborn mothers perfectly matches that found in
Table 1 for all boys. Among the girls there is a minor difference in the order of the ten most fre-
quently used names when compared to the order in Table 1 (the names Mariana and Tereza switch
positions), but the names themselves remained exactly the same. What does stands out here, how-
ever, is that name distribution was considerably more skewed among infants born to freeborn moth-
ers than among the total newborn population: among the boys, the top ten ranking names constituted
no less than 74 percent of all names in the category, while the corresponding figure for the girls was
63.1 percent. In fact, all told, no less than 95.3 percent of boys born to freeborn mothers were given
saints’ names—a count that excludes derivatives and diminutives. Among the female infants some
79.7 percent bore the names of saints—again, excluding derivatives, diminutives, and, most impor-
tantly, females forms of masculine saints’ names.
As Table 3 makes clear, a very similar situation obtained among infants born of manumitted
mothers. Just the same certain distinctions appear. Mariana does not appear among the top ten names
of girls whose mothers were listed as manumitted in the parish registers, having been replaced by
Inácia—curiously, also not a saint (although a derivative of Santo Inácio). The order of the name
Libby and Frank 69
Table 3. Ten Most Frequent Names of Infants Born to Freedwomen, as a Percentage of All Boys’ and Girls’
Names, Parish of São José, 1751–1870.
Names given to boys Names given to girls

of freeborn mothers of freeborn mothers
N Percent N Percent
Manoel 177 16.1 Maria 211 20.5
José 144 13.1 Ana 167 16.3
Antônio 129 11.8 Francisca 49 4.8
Joaquim 115 10.5 Joana 39 3.8
Francisco 98 8.9 Antônia 38 3.7
João 84 7.7 Joaquina 38 3.7
Inácio 16 1.5 Rita 31 3.0
Miguel 15 1.4 Tereza 30 2.9
Pedro 15 1.4 Rosa 28 2.7
Bernardo 9a 0.8 Inácia 21 2.0
a
Domingos, Luis/Luiz, and Vicente also appeared nine times each among infants boys born to manumitted mothers.
Table 4. Ten Most Frequent Names of Infants Born to Slave Mothers, as a Percentage of All Boys’ and Girls’
Names, Parish of São José, 1751–1888.
Names given to Names given to

boys of slave mothers girls of slave mothers
N Percent N Percent
Antônio 346 7.6 Maria 582 13.3
Manoel 346 7.6 Ana 330 7.8
Francisco 307 6.7 Rita 191 4.4
José 300 6.5 Francisca 153 3.5
João 269 5.9 Joana 133 3.0
Joaquim 247 5.4 Joaquina 116 2.5
Adão 101 2.2 Eva 102 2.3
Pedro 93 2.0 Tereza 96 2.2
Jerônimo 78 1.7 Bárbaraa 85 1.9
a
Rosa also appeared eighty-five times among girls born to slave mothers.
ranking was slightly altered for these girls, although the preponderance of Maria, Ana, and Francisca
was even greater than among all females. Overall, 79.4 percent of the daughters of freedwomen were
given names of saints, once again excluding derivatives, diminutives, and feminine versions of the
names of male saints. Curiously, among infant boys born to freedwomen the eminently Lusitanian
Manoel ranked first and by a fairly wide margin, although José, Antônio, Joaquim, and Francisco
were quite prominent as well. On the other hand, Inácio, Miguel, and Bernardo figure among the
top ten most common names for these boys, although the latter was numerically tied with Vicente,
Luis, and Domingos which appear in the top ranking of the names of all parish boys. No less than
95.9 percent of the male offspring of manumitted women in São José bore saints’ names, a higher
proportion than among the boys of freeborn mothers and despite the exclusion of derivatives and
diminutives. These findings lend support to the notion that adherence to Church tradition and norms
was considered an important part of strategies leading to manumission and guaranteeing that hard
won freedom.
Even among slaves, differences in naming practices were not great although they may have
been significant. As Table 4 shows, name distribution was considerably less skewed for slave
infants: the ten most frequently employed names for girls accounted for 42.9 percent of all
female names and the corresponding figure for slave boys was 47.5 percent. Maria and Ana were
popular to be sure, but only about a fifth (21.1 percent) of female infants was given these names
as compared to nearly two-fifths of girls born to freeborn or freedwomen mothers (39.3 percent
and 36.9 percent, respectively). While Bárbara and Rosa both ranked tenth, Mariana did not
figure among the top ten female slave names; the nonsaintly Eva took its place. The names of
female saints corresponded to 70.6 percent of the names borne by infant slave girls, a somewhat
smaller proportion than those found for daughters of freeborn or manumitted mothers. Yet again,
however, it must be recalled that derivatives and feminine versions of masculine saints’ names
(such as Josefa) are excluded from this count.
Somewhat surprisingly, Manoel was also the name most frequently given to slave boys,
although Antônio, Francisco, José, João, and Joaquim followed very closely. Luis and Domingos
were absent from the top ranking of names given to infant male slaves; in the event, they were
replaced by Adão and Jerônimo. Some 92.6 percent of slave boys were named after saints, cer-
tainly a substantial proportion but slightly smaller than what was verified for the sons of freeborn
and freedwomen mothers. Note that Adão appears in the top ranking only for infant slave boys.
That is especially significant when we observe that the seventh most popular name for slave girls
was Eva, of course a well-known biblical appellation. It seems a little farfetched to imagine that
parish slaves or, for that matter, their owners found inspiration in the life of the hermit Saint Adam,
an Italian Benedictine monk. Obviously, we are dealing here with that most ancient of couples,
Adam (Adão) and Eve (Eva). More specifically, Adão began showing up among top ranking
names of slave boys in the 1750s and would continue to do so up to the 1850s. The popularity
of Eva dated from the 1770s and also remained strong among slave girls until the 1850s. Neither
name was used frequently in naming the children of freeborn or freed mothers.24 Clearly, the story
of Adão and Eva’s expulsion from the Garden of Eden was appropriated by slaves to suit their own
hopes and needs. It could be posited that Africans may have been marginally more attracted to the
Adam and Eve tale. It seems plausible that the expulsion from the Garden of Eden might have been
equated with their forced displacement from Africa and, indeed, that interpretation could have
been shared by Brazilian-born slaves who were often only a generation or two removed from their
African roots. Whatever that interpretation may have been—and we shall probably never be able
to piece it together—it can only have been couched in terms that served as inspiration for choosing
both names for slave children, names that somehow represented expectations for a better future (in
all likelihood, a future without slavery).25 The supposition here is that slaves themselves, and not
their masters, were largely responsible for choosing their children’s names.26 In much the same
vein, a small number of biblical names were given exclusively to slave infants, again suggesting
that São José slaves may well have interpreted the Bible in their own fashion while rejecting the
norm that only names associated with saints were acceptable.27 On the other hand, some twenty-
two saints’ names were given exclusively to slave boys and another five only to slave girls.28 Most
of these saints were early Christians, including a number of martyrs and a few popes; none appears
to have been slaves. A sort of utilitarian efficiency29 played a role in the evocation of martyrs who
were thought to have special credit with God and, thus, to be especially adept at mediating in favor
of the faithful.30 That suggests that at least some slaves must have following the teachings of the
Church quite closely. None of these saints served as the inspiration for the formation of the many
lay brotherhoods that were so prominent in colonial Brazilian and most especially Minas society.31
Libby and Frank 71
Moreover, we have found no indications that images or statues of any of these saints figured
among the wide array of adornments typical of churches in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century
Minas Gerais. So, the evidence is disappointingly inconclusive.32 It may well be, nevertheless,
that at least in some of these cases, slaves were interpreting the lives of the saints in question
in their own fashion and to their own advantage.
Finally, with regard to the relative popularity of names in comparative terms, we can assess
the degree to which patterns of naming corresponded across social categories. For instance, does
the pattern among the freeborn ‘‘explain’’ the variation in popularity of the most common names
among the freed? Or, in contrast, is it the pattern of naming among slaves that ‘‘explains’’ the var-
iation in names most often given to children of freedwomen? These questions, while simple, are
potentially significant. At stake is a sense of the relative distance from one social group to the next,
as well as our understanding of where the primary ‘‘agency’’ was located in naming practices, par-
ticularly among slaves. Put simply, we regressed freed name percentages against free and slave,
with matched pairs of names across all three variables. The results are suggestive. Whereas the
pattern in naming among the free accounts just over three-fifths of the variation in the percentages
of the most popular names given by freed mothers, the pattern of names given by slave mothers
accounts for just over four-fifths of the variation. Freed mothers, presumably, could choose freely
from the same universe of names available to free mothers. Yet, it appears that their choices more
strongly mirrored the naming practices associated with slave mothers, perhaps because freed
mothers carried on naming traditions from their often-lengthy experiences in their original com-
munity of condition (Appendix Table A3).
Focusing on Three Interrelated Families and Their Naming Patterns

A final approach involving the intersecting of distinct sources allows for a more detailed and
nuanced examination of naming practices in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century São José. Through
the use of parish registers, inheritance records, and ecclesiastical and civil nominal lists, we have
been able to at least partially reconstitute the genealogies of three families with roots in the parish
dating from the first half of the eighteenth century—a period for which, as already seen, only a
sprinkling of baptismal and burial and no marriage records have survived. That means that we know
very little about the ‘‘founders’’ or first generation of two of the families, while for the third family,
descended from a West African slave couple, it has proved possible to piece together a minimal nar-
rative of its initial history in colonial Minas Gerais. Most importantly for present purposes, despite
their disparate social origins, these three families established ties through marriage and a consensual
union during the early decades of the nineteenth century. To a certain extent, those ties created a
common pool of appellations that, in turn, has facilitated the identification of namesake relationships
well beyond the limited possibilities offered by baptismal records that cannot be cross-referenced
with the results of genealogical reconstitution.
Our starting point in reconstructing the three families is the Rol de Confessados desta Freguesia
de Santo Antonio da vila de São Joze, elaborated during Lent in 1795.33 The widow Dona Ana Maria
da Conceição appeared heading a household including seven children, a holding of forty-two slaves,
and a manumitted crioula agregada.34 Later marriage registers establish that Ana Maria had been
married to Captain José Alves Lima; a baptismal entry for one of their grandsons indicates that the
Captain was born in Portugal and she in Aiuruoca, a district in the far southern reaches of the Cap-
taincy of Minas.35 Captain José and Dona Ana Maria constitute the first generation of the Alves
Lima family, the assumption being that she was born sometime around 1745/1746 (in the 1795 Rol,
she was listed as being forty-nine years of age); her husband was almost certainly older and we
would guess that he was born in the 1730s. It has not been possible to identify any of the parents
of this couple, so that detecting namesakes can only be verified from the second generation on.36
From 1765 to 1787, Captain José and Dona Ana Maria baptized thirteen children37 (the second gen-
eration) and we have turned up the marriage registers of three of their daughters and one of their
sons.38 One of the married daughters resided in São José and from 1801 to 1821 gave birth to seven
girls and five boys,39 while the marriage of their son constituted the tie to our second reconstructed
family and would produce some six children born between 1807 and 1817.40 Of this third generation
of the Alves Lima family, one of the females and two of the males took the vows of marriage in the
parish mother church41 and, together, from 1819 to 1839 would baptize a total of seven boys and six
girls.42 Two of the fourth-generation males wedded in the parish,43 but only a single baptism of a
fifth-generation infant boy44 appears in the parish registers and is the last vestige we have of the
Alves Lima family.
The household headed by Sargento-Mor45 Antônio da Fonseca Pestana in 1795 included his
wife, Dona Joaquina Rosa Tomásia de Miranda—the couple were fifty-one and thirty-nine years
of age, respectively—three sons and two daughters old enough to confess, thirty-one slaves, and
the agregados Second Lieutenant Hipólito José da Fonseca (Antônio’s brother and possibly twin
since he was also listed as a fifty-one years old), an African slave belonging to Hipólito, and Man-
oel Antônio, described as a single, twenty-seven-year-old of mixed race (mestiço).46 According to
the Rol, Antônio would have been born sometime around 1744 and Joaquina Rosa around 1756.47
Antônio da Fonseca Pestana’s burial register48 informs that he was the legitimate son of Captain
Silvestre d’Afonseca Rangel and Ana Rita de Pestana Gouvêa. Silvestre was most probably from
Portugal and Ana Rita a native of the Colony (probably Minas Gerais itself) and that they were
born in the first or second decade of the eighteenth century.49 Meanwhile, because it referred to
a common grandson, the same baptismal record that told us about the origins of José Alves Lima
e Ana Maria da Conceição states that Antônio and Joaquina Rosa had been ‘‘born and baptized in
the parish of Santo Antônio da Vila de São José.’’50
Thus, while we are afforded at least some information about one of the couples comprising
the first generation of what will be referred to as the Fonseca family, namesakes only begin
appearing in the third generation. In 1777, Sargento-Mor Antônio and Dona Joaquina Rosa bap-
tized the first of their twelve children, while their last child was born in 1791.51 In 1800, Captain
Hipólito José da Fonseca and Dona Maria Rosa de Oliveira were married in the parish church.52
From 1801 to 1805, Hipólito and Maria Rosa baptized a girl and two boys. Of these fifteen third-
generation Fonsecas, only two would enter wedlock condoned by the Church and within the con-
fines of the São José parish. In July 1806, Antônio and Joaquina Rosa’s daughter Ana Inácia da
Fonseca married Severino Alves Lima, son of José Alves Lima and Ana Maria da Conceição,
thus sealing the link between the two families.53 Between 1807 and 1817, Severino and Ana
Inácia baptized two sons and three daughters and buried a newborn infant girl.54 It appears that
at least one of Severino and Ana Inácia’s sons married outside the parish. The couple resided
with the groom’s parents for a certain period, and in 1833, Lieutenant Joaquim Alves Lima and
Dona Constância Umbelina Duarte baptized their daughter Rita—the first of the fifth-generation
Fonsecas we have been able to identify in the São José sources.55 In 1838, Hipólito José and
Maria Rosa’s youngest son, João Bernardes da Fonseca, married.56 From 1838 to 1862, João and
his wife Maria Tereza de Jesus baptized six girls and three boys.57 Thus, we were able to identify
fifteen fourth-generation Fonsecas. As will be seen shortly, another set of fourth-generation Fon-
seca descendents existed, but they were the fruit of a consensual union, unrecognized by the
Church. Of the legitimate fourth-generation descendents, two sons and three daughters of João
Bernardes and Maria Tereza were married at various chapels belonging to the parish from 1868
to 1880.58 Dating from 1878 to 1894, we have come across the baptisms of five infants produced
by three of those unions.59
Quitéria Moreira de Carvalho figures in the Rol de Confessados as a seventy-five-year-old
manumitted widow of West African descent (mina forra). Residing with her were her forty-
Libby and Frank 73
seven-year-old son, Severino Moreira, and four slaves.60 As demonstrated earlier,61 in the context
of colonial Minas, the fact that the ex-slave Quitéria possessed slaves of her own did not render her
remarkable, especially not among her fellow West African minas who were singularly adept at
obtaining their freedom and going on to purchase chattel. What is remarkable, however, is that
we have been able to piece together Quitéria’s complex story and reconstruct six generations of
her descendants. Given her age listed in the Rol—almost certainly an estimate—Quitéria was born
sometime around 1720 and thus belonged to ranks of a ‘‘founding’’ generation. In checking the
baptismal registers, we first find Quitéria in 1754 as a slave of Antônio Moreira de Carvalho and
the single mother of an infant girl.62 In 1757, she appeared once again as a slave baptizing a daughter,
whereas two years later Quitéria was qualified as the manumitted single mother of a baptized boy.63
Finally, in 1764, Quitéria Moreira de Carvalho, mina forra, and her husband, José Fernandes da Silva,
also a mina forro, baptized their son José.64 Quitéria and José’s marriage served to legitimize all of the
children baptized from c. 1748 to 1759.65 The fact that this manumitted couple had distinct last names
indicates that they had belonged to separate owners, so that we are dealing here with a rare instance of
being able to identify a long-standing consensual relationship between slaves who were only able or
willing to consummate their marriage once each one had obtained freedom.66
No documents have turned up relating to the manumissions of José and Quitéria and there are
no São José marriage registers for the 1760s. On the other hand, letters of freedom notarized a few
years later show that in 1767 and 1769 Quitéria purchased the freedom of her two daughters, Ana
and Antônia.67 In 1775, another notarization of a letter of freedom shows José Fernandes Silva and
Quitéria paying for the manumission of ‘‘their son,’’ Severino in 1775.68 This acknowledgment of
the paternity of Severino on the part of José confirms the longevity of his union with Quitéria. So,
most of the members of the first and second generations of what we refer to as the Moreira da Silva
family were tested by the yoke of slavery, but by the mid-1770s those who had survived were free
and before long some of the second generation would take on spouses and start their own families.
We have no record of Antônia Moreira da Silva’s marriage to Joaquim Martins de Souza, but
between 1777 and 1787, they baptized four children, three of whom survived to adulthood.69 In
1786, second-generation Joaquim Moreira da Silva contracted his first marriage that in 1790
resulted in the birth of a daughter.70 Some sixteen years later, in 1812, the widower Joaquim mar-
ried again and in 1815 baptized a son.71 Thus, we have been able to identify six members of the
third generation of the Moreira da Silva family. In 1811, Ana Rita da Silva, daughter of Joaquim
Moreira da Silva, took a husband,72 but, even though for a good many years she showed up in var-
ious capacities in the parish registers, she apparently was childless. On the other hand, Antônia
Moreira da Silva and Joaquim Martins de Souza’s third-generation daughter Esméria Martins dos
Passos, married in 1800,73 gave birth to a daughter and three sons whose corresponding baptismal
entries date from 1802 to 1808.74 This tiny fourth generation would provide the link to three suc-
ceeding generations.
Fourth generation José Vieira Lopes celebrated his marriage to Maria José Cupertina in 1827.75
After losing a set of unnamed twins in 1828,76 the couple went on to baptize two boys and a girl
from 1830 to 1834.77 In 1852, their daughter Maria Madalena Vieira took a husband78 and would
baptize a girl and two boys between 1853 and 1857.79 As an adult, that girl was called Maria José
de Jesus and, at fifteen years of age, she would take the vows of marriage in 1868.80 From 1875 to
1889, Maria José and her husband Francisco Ferreira Chagas would baptize two sons and two
daughters.81 We have thus far accounted for three fifth-generation, three sixth-generation, and
four seventh-generation descendents of Quitéria Moreira de Carvalho and José Fernandes da Silva.
With the exception of the seventh-generation baptizing infants, what all of these Moreira da Silva
descendents have in common is that, at one point or another in the parish records, they were
referred to as crioulos. Indeed, these final generations constituted what could be considered as the
crioulo branch of the Moreira da Silva family.82
The only female of the fourth generation was Barbara Patricia Lopes. When she appeared on the
1831 nominal list,83 she was labeled as a single crioula and, indeed, she was never to appear as mar-
ried. In the 1838 nominal list, however, Barbara was listed as the single mother of four boys and two
girls ranging from a few months to fourteen years of age and in 1841, she would baptize a third
daughter whose father went unmentioned in the respective baptismal entry.84 In fact, between
1824 and 1831, Barbara and her unnamed partner produced a total of eight children—five boys and
three girls.85 All of the boys had been put out as foundlings,86 although Barbara was identified as
their mother in each of their respective marriage registries.87 Owing to dispensation papers relating
to the marriage of two of their grandchildren,88 we know that Barbara Patricia maintained a long-
standing relationship with Silvestre Albino da Fonseca, the son of Sargento-Mor Antonio and, there-
fore, a white, third-generation Fonseca. This consensual union linked the two families and resulted
in a pardo89 branch of the Moreira da Silva family (and the Fonseca family, although the only source
to acknowledge the link were the aforementioned dispensation papers issued long after Silvestre’s
death). Foundlings and/or pardos naturais, summing Silvestre and Bárbara’s eight children with José
Viera Lopes’ three crioulo children results in a total of eleven members of the fifth generation of
the Moreira da Silva family.
The parish registers include marriage records for all five of the former foundling boys and for
two of Bárbara’s daughters, but the third daughter went on to have two sons and a daughter as an
unwed mother.90 Registered in the parish of São José from 1844 to 1878, we have turned up the
baptisms of seventeen girls and twenty-four boys who certainly comprised the better part of Sil-
vestre and Bárbara’s grandchildren (there may have been others baptized outside the parish).91
Between pardos and crioulos, we have accounted for forty-five sixth-generation members of the
Moreira da Silva family. We have located nine marriage registers dating from 1865 to 1889
involving thirteen members of the pardo sixth generations—four of the weddings joined eight first
cousins as husband and wife.92 Those marriages would result in the birth of seventeen girls and
seven boys who were baptized between 1866 and 1894.93 For her part, between 1868 and 1874,
Menalvina Carlota dos Passos would give birth to three natural sons.94 Thus, between the
two ‘‘color’’ branches of the family, we have so far been able to identify thirty-one seventh-
generation descendants of Jose and Quiteria. That is certainly an undercount since no baptisms
performed later than 1895 have been taken into account and we have no way of knowing how
many members of this generation would have been baptized outside the Sao Jose parish.
A combination of family members and of spouses marrying into the Alves Lima, Fonseca, and
Moreira da Silva families result in a total of 212 individuals born from the early eighteenth century
to the final decade of the nineteenth. Table 5, which displays baptismal and compound proper
names as well as sets of last names appearing during each generation, demonstrates that the nam-
ing practices of these families were typical in light of our findings for the parish as a whole.
Among males, José was the most frequent name, just as obtained for the parish as a whole, as seen
in Table 1. Other recurring names such as Antônio, Joaquim, João, Francisco, and Manoel were
equally popular in São José throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Carlos, Silvestre,
and Severino, none of which were in the parish top ranking of masculine names, were repeated
quite frequently in the sample owing to the use of namesakes honoring fathers and grandfathers.
Such tendencies held true for more popular names as well, but these repetitions of ‘‘unusual’’
names nicely illustrates the importance of naming aimed at reinforcing familial solidarity and
keeping the family history alive for both the elite and nonelite families in the sample. As could
be expected, among women the name Maria was by far the most common and here it should be
pointed out that the popularity of Maria and the choice of namesakes seem to have reinforced one
another—undoubtedly a characteristic of name choices overall. Most of the other female names
more frequently used by these families—Ana, Francisca, Joaquina, Rita, and Tereza—figured
among the most popular girls’ names in the São José baptismal records. The recurrence of Hipólita
Libby and Frank 75
Table 5. Proper Names, Compound Names, and Surnames Appearing in Each Generation of the Alves Lima,
Fonseca, and Moreira da Silva families, c. 1720–1894.
Adult compound
Family Generation Proper names (N)a proper namesa Surnamesa
Alves Lima First Ana and José Ana Maria Alves Lima and da
Conceição
Second Ana, Antônio, Carlos, Ana Custódia, Esméria Alves Lima, Costa Maia, da
Cristovão, Esméria, Maria, Hipólita Conceição, de Lima,
Hipólita, Inácio, José Justiniana, and Maria Marques Monteiro,
Joaquim, Manoel (2), Tereza Peregrina, and Ribeiro
Maria, Severino, and Vale
Tereza
Third Ana, Antônio, Francisca Ana Maria, João Alves Lima, Campos,
(2), Gertrudes, Antônio, Gertrudes Costa Maia, da
Hipólita (2), João, Maria, and Hipólita Conceição, do Amor
Joaquina, José, Peregrina Divino, and Felizarda
Manoel, Maria (2),
and Severino
Fourth Ana, Antônio, Francisca Francisca Cândida, João Campos Júnior, Costa
(2), Hipólita (2), João, Antônio, Luiza Maia, da Rocha, and de
José (2), Luiza, Angélica, and Manoel Jesus
Manoel, Maria, Antônio
Mateus, and Severino
Fifth José
Fonseca First Ana and Silvestre Ana Rita d’Afonseca Rangel and de
Pestana Gouvêa
Second Antônio, Hipólito, Hipólito José, Joaquina da Fonseca, da Fonseca
Joaquina, and Maria Rosa Tomásia, and Pestana, Miranda, and
Maria Rosa Oliveira
Third Ana, Antônio, Brı́gida, Ana Inácia, Brı́gida Albino da Fonseca, Alves
Francisca, João (2), Maria, Luı́s Julio, Lima, Bernardes
Joaquim, Joaquina, Manoel Caetano, Fonseca, da Fonseca, de
Luı́s (2), Manoel, Maria Domitila, and Jesus, and Guedes
Maria (4), Severino, Maria Tereza
and Silvestre
Fourth Alexandre, Ana, Alexandre Francisco, da Conceição, da Silva, de
Antônio, Carolina, Joaquina Cândida, Jesus, de Matos, do
Delfina, Francisca, Hipólita Generosa, Nascimento, do
Hipólita, Hipólito, Joaquim José, José Patrocı́nio, dos Santos,
Joaquina, Joaquim (3), Joaquim, Maria and Rodrigues do
José (2), Maria (2), Hipólita, Maria José, Espı́rito Santo
Mariana, and Rita (3) Mariana Francisca,
and Rita Carolina
Fifth Alice, Antônio (2), and
João
Moreira da Silva First José and Quitéria Fernandes da Silva and
Moreira de Carvalho
Second Ana, Antônia, Joaquim Genoveva Maria and da Silva, do Nascimento,
(2), José, Maria, and Maria Josefa Martins de Souza,
Severino Moreira da Silva, and
Moreira Santana
Third Ana, Brı́gida, Esméria, Ana Rita, João Patrı́cio, da Silva, de Souza, Lopes,
João, José, Manoel, Maria Josefa, and Martins Coimbra,
Maria, and Quitéria Quitéria Maria Martins dos Passos, and
Nascimento
Fourth Ana, Bárbara, Joaquim, Ana Joaquina, Bárbara Albino da Fonseca,
José, Maria, Roque, Patrı́cia, and Maria Cupertino, Faria, Lopes,
and Silvestre José Viera Lopes, and Simões
Lopes
(continued)
Table 5. (continued)
Adult compound
Family Generation Proper names (N)a proper namesa Surnamesa
Fifth Balduina, Carlos (3), Balduina Patrı́cia, Carlos Albino dos Passos, Albino
Claudimira, Emilia, André, Carlos da Fonseca, Albino
Fortunato, Francisca, Francisco, Claudimira Nepomuceno, Almeida,
Francisco (2), Alexandrina, Emı́lia da Fonseca, de Jesus, de
Hipólito, Joaquim, Maria, Francisca Paula Lobato, do
José, Ludovina, Paula, Francisco Nascimento, dos Passos,
Maria(3), Martiniano, Teodoro, Joaquim dos Reis Bittencourt,
Maximiano, and Marcelino, Ludovina Lobato, Nepomuceno,
Tereza Cesária, Maria and Vieira
Honória, Maria
Joaquina, Maria
Madalena, and Tereza
Bárbara
Sixth Alcina, Alfredo, Amélia Alcina Amélia, Ana Albino de Paula, Albino dos
(2), Ana, Antônio (3), Evangelista, Antônio Passos Júnior, Albino
Candida, Carlos (2), Augusto, Antônio Nepomuceno, Batista da
Carminda, Cornélio, José, Carlos José, Fonseca, Cordeiro, da
Elı́dio, Emiliana, Carminda Cândida, Conceição, da Fonseca,
Filomena, Francisca Filomena Bibiana, da Fonseca Machado, da
(2), Francisco (5), Francisca Sancha, Glória, das Chagas, da
Idelvina, Jesuina, João Francisco Teodoro, Silva, de Jesus, de Paula
(3), Joaquim (3), José Idelvina Romana, da Fonseca, do
(2), Jucelino, Ladislau, Jesuina Paula, Joaquim Nascimento, do
Lourenço, Luiza, Manoel, Joaquim Patrocı́nio, dos Passos,
Maria (7), Martiniano, Teodoro, José dos Reis, Ferreira das
Maximiano, Maximiano, José Chagas, and Rodrigues
Menalvina, Reduzina, Telésforo, Luiza Ferreira
Salvina, and Silvestre Maria, Maria Brı́gida,
Maria Cândida, Maria
Francisca, Maria José,
Menalvina Carlota,
and Reduzinda Maria
Seventh Alberto, Ambrosina (2),
Ana, Antônia,
Antônio (3),
Carminda, Carlos,
Carlota, Cecı́lia,
Emı́lia, Francisco (2),
Joaquim, José, Maria
(6), Rodolfo, Tereza,
Timóteo, Vicente,
and Virgı́nia
Source: APSASJRM, Livro 6, 165, 221, 240, and 242; Livro 7, 34, 92, 131, 205, 236, 286, 337, 348, 461-461v, 496-496v, 519v, 544,
545v, 569v, 570v, 630, and 692v; Livro 8, 15v-16, 45v, 65, 88, 91, 117, 145, 146, 196, 239, 152-152v, 283v, 308, and 327; Livro
10, 31, 37, 48, 74, 102, 153, 161, 162, 206, 229, 244, 281, 313, 375, 413, and 415; Livro 10 A, 47v, 72v, 84, 93v, 98v, and 118;
Livro 11A,7, 22, 33v, 45, 48v, 56v, 60, 79v, 82, 82v, 83v, 106v, 113v, 114v, 119, 131v, 132, 140, 140v, 142v, 144, 182v, 156, 159,
157v, 159v, 169, 169v, 170, 177v, 181v, 189, 195v, and 199; Livro 12, 8v, 35, 49, 137v, 106v, 117, 118-118v, and 128v; Livro 14,
9v, 18-18v, 20, 118, 127, 143v, 144v, 150, 154, 163v, 173v, 175-175v, 187, 204v, 223, 268, 283, 284-284v, 287-287v, and 288;
Livro 15, 55, 60, 109, 111v, 159v, 163v, and 256v-257; Livro 16, 12, 22, 25v, 39v, 47, 55, 58, 70v, 86v, 94v, 95v, 98-98v, 143v,
148-148v, 161, 172v, 175, 182, 198, 198v, 222, 223, 226, 244v, 247v, and 248v; Livro 17, 50v, 61, 67v, 71v, 123-123v, 130v, and
143v, Livro 24, 13v, 20v, 141, 142, 143, 148-148v; 174, and 181v-182; Livro 25, 273, 291, and 329; Livro 27, 7, 47v, 48, 80v, 92v,
110, 141v, 151v, 152, and 165v; Livro 28, 14, 25v, 26v, 33v, 45, 47v, 49v, 58, 61v-62, 64v-65, 71v, 76, 82v, 84, 87v, 128-128v,
132, and 147; Livro 82, s/p; Livro 84 and 3; Livro 85 and 158v; Sepulturas 18; APNSPSJR, Livro 20 and 281v; ETPHAN, São José,
Cartório do Segundo Ofı́cio, Caixa 91. aIncludes the proper and last names of spouses marrying into each family, including
those involved in intermarriage among families.
Libby and Frank 77
as a namesake originated in the Alves Lima family, but spilled over to the Fonsecas. Third-
generation Quitéria Maria was named in honor of her grandmother Quitéria Moreira de Carvalho,
while the repetition of Esméria probably represented the relative popularity of the appellation in
the Lusitanian world of the late eighteenth century.
Overall, these three families were relatively conservative when choosing names. A total of
sixty-four appellations make up our sample, twenty of which were not saints’ names. Just as with
the overall parish data, girls were more likely to receive nonsaint names than were the boys, but,
again following general parish patterns, most of the names in each family were religiously inspired.
Before the turn of the century, of the names appearing the only two that did not represent direct invo-
cations of a saint were Hipólita—the female version of Santo Hipólito—and Esméria, a classical
Latin appellation. Indeed, among the Alves Lima, Esméria was virtually the only nonsaintly name
to be used from about 1740 through to 1868. Among the Fonsecas, it was not until 1851 that a Mari-
ana was baptized, a thoroughly classical Latin name, but not a saintly invocation. So, the less tradi-
tional names were more readily used among the black and mestiço descendents of Quitéria Moreira
de Carvalho and José Fernandes da Silva, but not before the fifth generation that initiated with the
birth of the first two of Bárbara Patrı́cia’s foundlings in the 1820s. Of Bárbara’s boys, Maximiano,
Martiniano, and Fortunato received names of classical Latin origin, while their sister Balduina’s
name was of Greek origin; Carlos and Francisco were, of course, saints’ names, but Ludovina was
of German inspiration and Claudimira is considered a diminutive of Santa Cláudia.95 Why these
unconventional names began to appear is difficult to explain. They may simply indicate that in
postindependence Brazil experimentation with new appellations had its attractions.
Moving into the sixth generation of Moreira da Silvas, one boy was given a classical Greek
name (Elı́dio), another (Jucelino) a modern European name, four girls received appellations of
various classical origins (Carminda, Filomena, Jesuina, and Hipólita), one (Alcina) an appellation
of European inspiration, and four infant girls were baptized with names of unknown origin (Idel-
vina, Menalvina, Reduzinda, and Sálvia). Of the seventh-generation boys, only Rodolfo (a name
of Germanic origin) did not receive a saintly name. There were two Ambrosinas and a Carminda—
both appellations of classical origin—and a Germanic Carlota, while the other twelve girls in this
final generation were given saints’ names. Our sample is too small and heavily skewed to the Mor-
eira da Silva family from the fifth generation on to reach any broad conclusions. It would appear,
nevertheless, that, although Catholic Church influence remained strong well into the nineteenth
century, certain trends toward secularism in naming practices can be detected in the wake of inde-
pendence and throughout the rest of the nineteenth century.
In briefly looking at compound names that turned up for some of the adults in our three-family
sample, once again no clear patterns emerge. First of all, the use of compound names was neither
more nor less common among the elite Alves Lima and Fonseca families than among the Afro-
descendants of the Moreira da Silva clan. At least in the sample, compound names were a bit more
frequent for women, although our limited data suggest that masculine versions were increasingly
employed as the nineteenth century wore on. With the partial exceptions of Ana Maria, João
Antônio, and Maria José, compound names were not repeated over generations or among the fam-
ilies. As could be expected, the sample compound names are almost entirely made up of saintly
invocations and classical appellations. Given that, as we have seen, such large proportions of the
population were given names from a much reduced pool, it seems surprising that compound names
were not more popular across generations than the findings from our sample suggest. It is very
probable that nicknames were widely used in São José and other small communities throughout
the period, although it is also possible that last names served as markers for distinguishing among
the multiple Marias, Anas, Josés, and Antônios, and so on.
An apparent lack of norms makes it difficult to understand how or why last names were passed on
or assigned to young adults.96 A bewildering array of eighty-seven distinct family names appears in
Table 6. Descendents of the Alves Lima, Fonseca, and Moreira da Silva Families, by Namesake Relationships, c.
1744–1894.
Generation F M O GF GM PGF PGM MGF MGM PU PA MU MA S NN Ta
Second 1 1 7 9
Third 2 2 8 1 2 1 1 1 2 12 32
Fourth 2 2 2 4 1 1 2 2 1 1 3 8 29
Fifth 3 3 3 2 2 3 2 2 1 10 29
Sixth 5 3 4 2 1 5 1 5 1 20 46
Seventh 3 1 1 1 1 2 2 1 2 14 28
Source: See Table 5.

Note: Descendents named after F ¼ father; M ¼ mother; O ¼ owner; GF ¼ godfather; GM ¼ godmother; PGF ¼ paternal
grandfather; PGM ¼ paternal grandmother; MGF ¼ maternal grandfather; MGM ¼ maternal grandmother; PU ¼ paternal
uncle; PA ¼ paternal aunt; MU ¼ maternal uncle; MA ¼ maternal aunt; S ¼ sibling; NN ¼ no namesake relationship identified.
a
The T[otal] number of individuals in each generation may be lower than the sum of namesakes found, owing to descendents
named after two or more kin (e.g., a child who took the name of a grandparent and a godparent).
Table 5,97 although, admittedly, there are many repetitions to be found in combined last names. Such
variety obviously represents an obstacle to family reconstruction. Giving religiously inspired last
names to women—including women of elite families—further increases the difficulties scholars
face in attempting to reconstitute family genealogies; as our sample demonstrates surnames such
as da Conceição and de Jesus were very commonly assigned to female family members. In a similar
vein, the ‘‘founding’’ family names seldom lasted beyond three generations. By the fifth generation,
for example, the Alves Lima name had been entirely trumped by the Costa Maias and the Campos.
Likewise, by the fourth generation, there were no Fonsecas to be found among the clan legitimately
descended from Silvestre d’Afonseca Rangel. On the other hand, Fonseca would appear in combined
surnames among the pardo children and grandchildren of Silvestre Albino da Fonseca and Bárbara
Patrı́cia Lopes. Not surprisingly, the Moreira da Silva surname did not survive beyond the second
generation, while dos Passos—of undetermined origin98—which appeared only once in the third
generation resurfaced in the fifth and sixth generations. In terms of the transmission of surnames,
the evidence brought together here for these three families lends little support to the notion of a
‘‘patriarchal Minas,’’99 since that would logically imply a patrilineal pattern of name inheritance.
Nor does the evidence point to any sort of matrilineal dominance in the choice of surnames. Once
again, no clear patterns emerge and it will continue to prove difficult for scholars to come to a better
understanding of surname transmission in a multigenerational context.
Such difficulties can in no way be construed as suggesting that the family held anything but a
central position in the lives of our São José parishioners and, therefore, in eighteenth- and
nineteenth-century Minas and Brazilian society at large. That centrality stands out clearly when
examining the data pertaining to namesake relationships displayed in Table 6. Our focus on three
(interrelated) families has allowed for a more thorough identification of namesake relationships than
was possible in analyzing the entire mass of baptismal registers. While the resulting family recon-
stitution is far from complete,100 it does make it possible to detect a number of cases in which an
infant was being named after a relative who did not appear or was not identified in the respective
baptismal entry. By disregarding the second generations for which we have limited information,
Table 6 shows that from half to two-thirds of the baptized in each succeeding generation took the
names of godparents and/or blood relatives (parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts, and sib-
lings).101 Moreover, namesake relationships with blood relatives consistently outnumbered by a
wide margin those with godparents (some of whom were also blood relatives).
We have basically limited our family reconstruction to direct descendants, meaning that these
simple calculations undoubtedly represent an underestimation of naming choices linking infants
Libby and Frank 79
to blood relatives. Nathan Camilo asserts that more infants were named after godparents than for
parents in turn-of-the-century Porto Alegre.102 True enough, but owing to the limited nature of
his database, his findings cannot take into account naming choices honoring blood relatives unmen-
tioned or unidentified in the baptismal records. Limited as our sample may be, it strongly suggests
that family ties were at least as important in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century São José as relations
based on fictive kinship—notwithstanding the potential social gains to be made from the establishment
of links among distinct families.103 That being the case, it seems that we may have uncovered a phe-
nomenon of familial inflection and exaltation104 that broader analytical approaches cannot detect and
that future studies of family history will need to take under consideration.
In particular, our study shows how the comprehensive study of onomastics requires the longitu-
dinal reconstruction of family relationships, both direct and affine, over many generations. Only
with such relatively complete data can the subtle patterns in naming practices be revealed and ana-
lyzed with regard to the strategies of family and the structural constraints of culture and social class.
This means moving beyond the historical event—such as baptism—and toward structure and prac-
tice at a community level. It also means, concurrently, a turn toward the specific and the individual.
With the humble materials of something as common as names, we can approach the complex inter-
play between structure at the community and intergenerational levels and individual historical expe-
rience. Such knowledge always remains distant. We can know but little about the lives of individuals
such as Quitéria Moreira de Carvalho and her many descendants over the generations. Yet, by pay-
ing close attention to naming practices, we begin to understand how her family grew and evolved
over time and how it participated in broader social patterns. Indeed, in this mixture of the individual
and the community, micro and macro, we see how the process of naming helped construct the social
structures within which the generations of this and other families were inserted.
Appendix
Table A1. Names Found in the São José Parish Registers, 1751–1890.
Boys Girls
Names of Catholic saints

Adão, Adauto, Adriano, Afonso, Agostinho, Albano, Adriana, Águeda, Albina, Amália, Ana, Anastácia,
Alberto, Albino, Aleixo, Alexandre, Alfredo, Alı́pio, Ângela, Angélica, Antônia, Antonina, Arcangela,
Amâncio, Amaro, Ambrósio, Anacleto, Anastácio, Apolônia, Arlinda, Arminda, Augusta, Áurea,
Andre, Ângelo, Aniceto, Anselmo, Antônio, Balbina, Bárbara, Bası́lia, Beatriz, Benedita, Bibiana,
Apolinário, Arnaldo, Artur, Atanásio, Aureliano, Brı́gida, Camila, Cândida, Carina, Carolina, Catarina,
Avelino, Baltazar, Barnabé, Bartolomeu, Bası́lio, Cátia, Cecı́lia, Celestina, Clara, Cláudia, Clotilde,
Benedito, Benjamim, Bento, Bernardo, Bertino, Constância, Cristina, Delfina, Demétria, Desidéria,
Boaventura, Bonifácio, Brás, Bruno, Caetano, Dionı́sia, Dolores, Dominica, Domingas, Dorotéia,
Calisto, Camilo, Cândido, Carlos, Casemiro, Edwiges, Efigênia, Eleonora, Elvira, Emerenciana,
Celestino, Cipriano, Cirilo, Cláudio, Clemente, Emı́lia, Emiliana, Ernestina, Escolástica, Esmeralda,
Conrado, Constantino, Cornélio, Cristiano, Esperança, Ester, Eufrásia, Eufrosina, Eugênia,
Crispim, Cristovão, Custódio, Damaso, Damião, Eulália, Fabiana, Fausta, Faustina, Felı́cia, Felipa,
Daniel, Dário, Davi, Delfino, Demétrio, Desidério, Firmina, Flávia, Flora, Florinda, Fortunata, Francisca,
Dimas, Diogo, Dionı́sio, Domingos, Eduardo, Elias, Gabriela, Gaudência, Generosa, Genoveva,
Eliseu, Elpı́dio, Emidio, Emı́lio, Estevão, Eufrásio, Germana, Gertrudes, Helena, Hilda, Inês, Iria, Isabel,
Eugênio, Eusébio, Estanislau, Evaristo, Ezequiel, Isadora, Jacinta, Joana, Joaquina, Josefina, Jovita, Júlia,
Fabiano, Felipe, Felisberto, Felix, Fernando, Fidelis, Juliana, Justina, Laura, Leocádia, Lúcia, Luciana, Luı́sa,
Flávio, Florêncio, Floriano, Francisco, Gabriel, Luzia, Madalena, Margarida, Maria, Marta, Matilde,
Galdino, Genésio, Geraldo, Germano, Gervásio, Gil, Mônica, Natália, Noêmia, Olı́via, Patrı́cia, Paula,
Gonçalo, Gregório, Guilherme, Gustavo, Henrique, Paulina, Perpétua, Pilar, Plácida, Quitéria, Regina,
Hermengildo, Hilário, Hipólito, Honório, Inácio, Rita, Rosa, Rosália, Rosalina, Sı́lvia, Sofia, Suzana,
Idelfonso, Inocêncio, Irineu, Isidoro, Ismael, Issac, Teodora, Tereza, Valentina, Verônica, Virgı́nia,
Ivo, Jacinto, Januário, Jeremias, Jerônimo, João, Umbelina, and Úrsula
Joaquim, Joel, Jorge, José, Judas, Juliano, Júlio,
(continued)
Table A1. (continued)
Boys Girls
Justiniano, Justino, Justo, Ladislau, Lauriano, Lázaro,

Leandro, Leão, Leonardo, Lourenço, Lourival,
Lucas, Luciano, Lúcio, Luis, Manoel, Marçal,
Marcelino, Marcelo, Marciano, Marcos, Mariano,
Mario, Martinho, Mateus, Miguel, Moises, Nemésio,
Nicácio, Nicolau, Noberto, Onofre, Oscar,
Otaviano, Ovı́dio, Pancrácio, Pantaleão, Paulino,
Pascoal, Patrı́cio, Paulino, Paulo, Pedro, Pio, Plácido,
Policarpo, Ponciano, Porfı́rio, Prudêncio, Querino,
Rafael, Raimundo, Ricardo, Roberto, Rodrigo,
Romão, Romualdo, Roque, Sabino, Salvador,
Samuel, Saturnino, Sebastião, Serafim, Sérgio,
Severo, Silvano, Silvério, Silvestre, Simão, Simião,
Simplı́cio, Tadeu, Teodoro, Teófilo, Teotônio,
Tertuliano, Tiago, Timoteu, Tobias, Tomas, Tomé,
Torquato, Urbano, Valentim, Valentino, Valeriano,
Valério, Venâncio, Venceslau, Vicente, Vitor,
Vitorino, Xisto, Zacarias, and Zeferino
Names inspired by saints
Batista, Emigidio, Laurenciano, Luisinho, Prudenciano, Agostinha, Anita, Apolinária, Basilina, Brásia, Brazida,
Quitério, and Silveriano Brası́lia, Claudimira, Esmeraldina, Firmiana,
Firminiana, Honorária, Josefa, Lourenciana,
Silveriana, and Valeriana
Biblical names
Abraão, Alencar, Ananias, Azarias, Gaspar, Eva, Diná, Felistina, Laudelina, Lázara, Mesalina,
Hermogenes, Hermogênio, Isaias, Israel, Jacó, Messias, Miguelina, Nazária, Rachel, and Sara
Jesuino, Jesus, Josias, Josué, Malaquias, Melquior,
Miqueas, Mizael, Nicásio, Nicésio, Noé, Peregrino,
Rangel, Rufo, Salatiel, Tito, and Zózimo
Names of classic origin (Hebraic, Greek, Latin, and
Persian)
Acácio, Adrião, Afrânio, Alexandrino, Almeida, Altino, Adelina, Águeda, Afonsina Albertina, Alexandria,
Angelino, Antão, Assis, Augusto, Aureo, Avelino, Alexandrina, Alice, Alı́pia, Altina, Amada,
Balbino, Belisário, Benevides, Bernardino, Bertulino, Ambrosina, Anacleta, Andresa, Angelina, Atanásia,
Bibiano, Cássio, Castor, Cesário, Cincinato, Aurélia, Aureliana, Aurora, Avelina, Balduı́na,
Claudiano, Claudino, Clementino, Constâncio, Batistina, Belisária, Benvinda, Benta, Bertolina,
Cornelis, Crescêncio, Crisostomo, Cristino, Bonifácia, Carina, Carmelita, Carminda, Cassiana,
Damasio, Dativo, Diamantino, Egı́dio, Eleutério, Célia, Cesária, Cipriana, Claudiana, Claudina,
Elı́dio, Erasmo, Eros, Esmério, Esteves, Fabrı́cio, Clemência, Cleta, Colecta, Conceição, Constança,
Faustino, Fausto, Feliciano, Felicı́ssimo, Felisbino, Constancia, Constantina, Corina, Crescência,
Felismino, Firmiano, Firmino, Flausino, Florindo, Cristiana, Custódia, Damásia, Damiana, Delminda,
Florisbelo, Floro, Fortunato, Frutuoso, Fulgêncio, Deodora, Deolinda, Diolina, Domiciana, Domitila,
Gelázio, Generoso, Genesio, Germiniano, Donância, Dulcinea, Eleutéria, Elı́dia, Elı́sia, Elmira,
Gordiano, Graciano, Herculano, Hilarino, Elpı́dia, Elvina, Emerência, Epifânia, Ercı́lia, Esmênia,
Honorato, Jovelino, Julião, Juvenal, Juvêncio, Esméria, Estácia, Etelvina, Eudóxia, Eulina, Eulinda,
Juventino, Juviano, Leoncio, Leonel, Levindo, Liberal, Feliciana, Felicidade, Felisbina, Felizarda, Filomena,
Liberato, Libório, Lino, Lisandro, Lı́vio, Lourival, Flausina, Florência, Florentina, Floriana, Florisbela,
Lucrécio, Manoelino, Marcolino, Marinho, Florida, Frutuosa, Galdina, Georgina, Geraldina,
Martiniano, Matias, Maurı́cio, Maximiano, Geminiana, Giordana, Gordiana, Grácia, Graciana,
Maximiliano, Maximino, Maximo, Modesto, Narciso, Gracinda, Gregória, Gregoriana, Hilária, Hipólita,
(continued)
Libby and Frank 81
Table A1. (continued)
Boys Girls
Nemésio, Nestor, Nicodemus, Nicomedes. Honorata, Honória, Honorinda, Idalina, Ilı́dia, Ilı́sia,
Nonato, Olivério, Olivio, Pacı́fico, Plı́nio, Policarpo, Inácia, Inocência, Isabelina, Isaura, Januária,
Polidoro, Possidônio, Praxedes, Primo, Prisciliano, Jerônima, Jesuina, Jovina, Jovita, Julita, Justa,
Protásio, Quintiliano, Rufino, Salustiano, Salviano, Lauriana, Leandra, Leonor, Libânia, Liberata, Lina,
Santino, Satirio, Saturnino, Secundino, Severiano, Lira, Lisandra, Lourença, Lucinda, Lucinha, Lucrécia,
Severino, Servolo, Silviano, Sı́lvio, Solano, Sotério, Luisinda, Manoela, Marcela, Marciana, Marculina,
Targino, Teodósio, Terêncio, Tibúrcio, Tomasiano, Mariana, Marinha, Martiniana, Maurı́cia, Máxima,
Tomásio, Ventura, Verı́ssimo, Vicentino, Vitor, Maximiana, Maximiliana, Mercedes, Narcisa,
Vidal, Vigilato, Virgolino, Vital, Vitoriano, and Olı́mpia, Olinda, Palmira, Pascoa, Placidina, Polônia,
Vitorio Prisca, Prisciliana, Prudência, Prudenciana, Quirina,
Roberta, Salvina, Saturnina, Sebastiana, Severa,
Severiana, Severina, Silvana, Silvéria, Silviana, Silvina,
Sinforosa, Taı́sa, Tomásia, Valéria Venância, Virgı́lia,
Vitoriana, and Zeferina
Names of European origin (German, French, Italian,
English, Portuguese, and Russian)
Ademas, Alfredo, Alvino, Balduino, Barbosa, Adelaide, Adélia, Adolfina, Alcina, Amélia, Amália,
Belarmino, Belmiro, Benevenuto, Bertoldo, Belarmina, Belmira, Bernardina, Bernarda, Cacilda,
Clarimundo, Delmiro, Deolindo, Dorival, Duarte, Caetana, Carlinda, Carlota, Casimira, Donata,
Eloi, Ernesto, Felı́cio, Felizardo, Francelino, Franklin, Eduarda, Egı́dia, Engrácia, Ermelinda, Francelina,
Frederico, Gastão, Genuı́no, Germano, Gonzaga, Geralda, Geraldina, Gervásia, Guilhermina,
Gualter, Guilhermino, Ivan, Jonatas, Josino, Henriqueta, Herculana, Josina, Jovelina, Juscelina,
Juscelino, Laurindo, Leopoldino, Leopoldo, Lindolfo, Leonarda, Leopoldina, Lisandra, Lucinha, Lucrécia,
Ludovico, Marciliano, Militão, Nivaldo, Olavo, Ludovina, Mafalda, Majore, Malvina, Marcelina,
Oscar, Prudêncio, Randolfo, Reginaldo, Reinaldo, Marieta, Martinha, Maura, Maximiliana, Mércia,
Romeu, Rodolfo, Rosário, Serafino, Teodorico, Micaela, Mônica, Raimunda, Reginalda, Reinalda,
Tristão, and Washington Ricarda, Ricardina, Rosana, Teotônia Ubaldina,
Valquiria, Vitorina, and Zulmira
Indigenous names
Jacira
Names of unidentified origin
Andalı́cio, Benevindo, Britaldo, Clariano, Clarismim, Angina, Azária, Balandrina, Balônia, Belardina,
Estolano, Eudiles, Firmı́dio, Florenciano, Furnésio, Beltazânia, Bonância, Brontildes, Cardina, Dipoldina,
Gualbino, Hiacinto, Horiel, Inladim, Laudares, Domâsia, Domenciana, Dometildes, Domiana,
Laudário, Lisardo, Mesêncio, Potenciano, Prontário, Donanciana, Dulcemina, Estolana, Florenciana,
Prósero, Prudente, Rodezindo, Sudário, Sulino, Francesina, Franzina, Fredesvinda, Gortinha,
Tarquino, Uriano, and Xavier Grimaldina, Humiliana, Idelvina, Jerimalda, Jolilina,
Lacidônia, Lizarda, Literata, Maira, Maxiana,
Menalvina, Merenciana, Potenciana, Procência,
Pulipuldina, Reduzinda, Salvina, Setembrinaa, and
Zaota
Source: APSASJRM, Livros 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10A, 11, 11A, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 20, 21, and 22; APNSGPT, Livro 1A. For infor-
mation on the origin of names, the following site was consulted: http://www.significado.origem.nom.br/. aHere we might have
hit upon an example of one of the African-inspired day or event names relatively common in the British Caribbean or the US
South (see Cody, ‘‘Naming, Kinship, and Estate Dispersal,’’ and ____, ‘‘There was no ‘Absalom’ on the Ball Plantation;’’ Inscoe,
‘‘Carolina Slave Names;’’ and Jerome S. Handler and JoAnn Jacoby, ‘‘Slave Names and Naming in Barbados.’’). The evidence
does not point in that direction, however. Setembrina, the natural daughter of parda Maria, belonged to the Reverend Inácio
Pacheco Lopes and was baptized on January 28, 1822. Of course, we cannot be certain of her birth date, which conceivably
could have been in September, but her cleric owner certainly would have been remiss in delaying the baptism of his infant
slave by some four months (APSASJRM, Livro 12, 185).
Table A2. Descendents of José Fernandes da Silva and Quitéria Moreira de Carvalho, West Africans Presum-
ably Born c. 1720, by Namesake Relationships, c. 1748–1894.
Generation F M O GF GM PGF PGM MGF MGM PU PA MU MA S NN Ta
Second 1 1 3 5
Third 1 1 1 1 2 6
Fourth 2 1 1 4
Fifth 1 1 1 2 1 5 11
Sixth 5 3 4 2 1 4 1 5 1 21 46
Seventh 3 1 1 1 1 2 2 1 2 14 28
Source: See Table 5.

Note: Descendents names for F ¼ father; M ¼ mother; O ¼ owner; GF ¼ godfather; GM ¼ godmother; PGF ¼ paternal
grandfather; PGM ¼ paternal grandmother; MGF ¼ maternal grandfather; MGM ¼ maternal grandmother; PU ¼ paternal
uncle; PA ¼ paternal aunt; MU ¼ maternal uncle; MA ¼ maternal aunt; S ¼ sibling; NN ¼ no namesake relationship identified.
a
The T[otal] number of individuals in each generation may be lower than the sum of namesakes found, owing to descendents
named after two or more kin (e.g., a child who took the name of a grandparent and a godparent).
Table A3. Shares of Most Common Names by Condition.
Name All Free Freed Slave
Ana 12.7 14.8 16.3 7.8

Antônia 2.4 2.4 3.7 2
Antônio 11.1 12.7 11.8 7.6
Francisca 5 5.7 4.8 3.5
Francisco 9.2 10.5 8.9 6.7
Joana 3 3 3.8 3
João 8.6 10.1 7.7 5.9
Joaquim 7.8 8.6 10.5 5.4
Joaquina 3.4 3.8 3.7 2.5
José 12.9 15.9 13.1 6.5
Manoel 10.5 11.2 16.1 7.6
Maria 20.9 24.5 20.5 13.3
Pedro 1.5 1.3 1.4 2
Rita 3.5 3.1 3 4.4
Tereza 1.9 17 2.9 2.2
Note: Predicting names of children born to freed mothers according to patterns among free mothers. A linear trend model is
computed for sum of FREED given sum of FREE. Model formula ¼ (FREE þ intercept); Number of observations: 15 DF ¼
degrees of freedom: 2; Residual DF ¼ 13; SSE ¼ sum squared error: 192.061; MSE ¼ mean squared error: 14.7739; R2 ¼
.610659; Standard error (SD) ¼ 3.84369; p (significance) ¼ .0005806; Predicting names of children born to freed mothers
according to patterns among slaves. Model formula: (SLAVE þ intercept); Number of observations: 15; DF: 2 Residual
DF ¼ 13; SSE ¼ 64.8437; MSE ¼ 4.98798; R2 ¼ .868551; SD ¼ 2.23338; p (significance) < .0001.
The model may be significant at p .05.
Acknowledgments
The authors are grateful to colleagues at Stanford and the Federal University of Minas Gerais for their com-
ments and support for this research over the years. Thanks are also due to the anonymous referees to whom the
article was assigned. Their incisive comments have made this a better piece.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or
publication of this article.
Libby and Frank 83
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Notes
1. Our research focuses on given names as the primary category for analysis. Surnames are notoriously dif-
ficult to pin down in the context of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Brazil. Of course, we use surnames,
as complicated as they are, in our reconstruction of family histories at the micro level.
According to the Rol de Confessados de 1795, the whole parish was home to some 12,000 souls (the Rol
itself inscribed 10,928 individuals, but that did not include inocente children under seven years of age who
had not confessed during Lent of that year. The 1831 nominal lists yield a total of 15,198 inhabitants, sug-
gesting a modest annual growth rate of under one per cent. The data available from the revised Recensea-
mento de 1872 are incomplete; the Vila itself apparently went uncounted as did three of the outlying
districts. Moreover, with the exception of Lage, the six districts that do appear in the Recenseamento had
lower populations than in 1831. Such findings are inconsistent and fly in the face of common sense,
although it is possible, but not very probable, that desmemberment of districts and towns may have inter-
fered with the counts
2. This is not to suggest that migrations did not take place. They were clearly an important path to survival
and occasionally social mobility for many groups in colonial and imperial Brazil. And, it seems likely
that the kind of familiar inflection found here was present among those who did migrate, since it would
have served to keep family identity and solidarity alive on the frontiers. In and of themselves, naming
patterns do not shed much light on social or spatial mobility, issues that the authors examine at length
in a forthcoming chapter of a collective volume to be published in Brazil next year. Douglas Cole Libby
and Zephyr L. Frank, ‘‘Uma famı́lia da Vila de São José: empregando a reconstituição familiar porme-
norizada para elucidar a História Social,’’ in Familia e demografia em Minas Gerais, séculos XVIII, XIX,
XX, ed. Douglas C. Libby and Tarcı́sio Rodrigues Botelho (Belo Horizonte, Brazil: Autêntica/FAPE-
MIG, forthcoming), 94–126.
3. See, for example, Celso Furtado, The Economic Growth of Brazil: A Survey from Colonial to Modern Times
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1963), 58–71; Caio Prado Júnior, Formação do Brasil contem-
porâneo, 14th ed. (São Paulo, Brazil: Brasiliense, 1976), 186–210. Recent versions of this implicit vision of
itinerancy are Stuart Schwartz, ‘‘Plantations and Peripheries, c. 1580–c. 1750,’’ in Colonial Brazil, ed.
Leslie Bethell (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 67–144; Isnara Pereira Ivo, Homens
de caminho: trânsitos culturais, comércio e cores nos serto˜es da América portuguesa. Seculo XVIII
(Vitória da Conquista, Brazil: Edições UESB, 2012). The venerable Sérgio Buarque de Holanda dubbed
Minas a ‘‘structure of quicksand’’ to emphasize the overall instability that marked mineiro society during
the eighteenth century. See: Sérgio Buarque de Holanda, História Geral da Civilização Brasileira. Tomo I.
A época colonial: administração, economia, sociedade, 2 volume (São Paulo, Brazil: Difusão Européia do
Livro, 1960), 295–98 (quote, p. 297). Buarque de Holanda’s lead is clearly followed in Laura de Mello e
Souza, Desclassificados do ouro: a pobreza mineira no século XVIII (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Graal, 1982).
Another classic that attributes a sort of nomadism to the non slaveholding lower classes in Brazil is Maria
Sylvia de Carvalho Franco, O homem livre na ordem escravocrata (São Paulo, Brazil: IEB/USP, 1974). A
recent return to this theme can be found in Sheila de Castro Faria, A colônia em movimento: Fortuna e
famı´lia no cotidiano colonial (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Nova Fronteira, 1998).
4. A total of 127 name entries were illegible or not actual names (occasionally clerics registered ‘‘hum’’ or
‘‘huma’’ referring to unnamed children who probably had died or were about to die at the time of baptism)
and had to be eliminated from the count used here, although it was possible to determine the sex of these
baptized infants (seventy-two boys and fifty-five girls).
5. D. Sebastião Monteiro da Vide, Constituições Primeiras do Arcebispado da Bahia (Brası́lia, Brazil:
Senado Federal, Conselho Editorial, 2007 [1707]), Livro Primeiro, Tı́tulo XII, 41.
6. In all, 95.3 percent of the sons of freeborn mothers took the names of saints, as did 95.9 percent of boys
born to freed mothers and 92.6 percent of male slave infants.
7. In all, 79.7 percent, 79.4 percent, and 70.6 percent, respectively.
8. For a classification of all names, see Table A1 in the Appendix.
9. The names of saints such as Felisberto and Felix or Juvenal and Juviano were echoed in the following
names found in the São José registers: Feliciano, Felicı́ssimo, Felisbino, Felismino, Joviano, Juvêncio,
and Juventino. Again, a fair number of masculine names had feminine equivalents of Greek and Latin
origin, so that corresponding to saints such as Anacleto, Bonifácio, Flausino, Narciso, and Severino were
the feminine versions Anacleta, Bonifácia, Flausina, Narcisa, and Severina. At the same time, saints
Cláudia, Felı́cia, and Felicidade, for example, were probably reflected in the choice of names such as
Claudiana, Claudina, Feliciana, Felizbina, and Felizarda.
10. In the event, some 3.6 percent of all boys were given names of classical origin, while the proportion among
girls stood at 16.5 percent. It is worthy of note that 4.5 percent of slave boys and 19.4 percent of slave girls
were given names with origins in ancient languages. This relatively minor detail may, nevertheless, provide
a clue as to who was actually naming slave children. It is plausible to suspect that slave parents/families
may have been less comfortable with saints’ and thus chose classical derivatives acceptable to the clergy.
11. The French names Felı́cio, Felizardo, and Marciliano had ties to saints Felisberto and Felix, as did the Ger-
man Guilhermino to São Guilherme. Among girls, just as with those of classical origin, European names
were often the feminine equivalent of masculine saints’ names. Thus, Teutonic appellations such as Ber-
narda, Bernardina, Leonarda, Maximiliana, Ricarda, and Romualda were inspired in saints Bernardo, Ber-
nardino, Leonardo, Maximiliano, Ricardo, and Romualdo. The Anglo-Saxon inspired names Eduarda and
Ricardina corresponded to saints Eduardo and Ricardo.
12. A tiny 0.8 percent of the sons of freeborn and slave mothers received names of European origin and those of
manumitted mothers a paltry 0.4 percent. Some 3.3 percent of girls born to freeborn mothers were given
European names, as were 3.1 percent of those born to manumitted mothers and 4.1 percent of slave girls.
13. Here we are referring to names made of partial combinations of two other names: Carlos and Bernardina,
for example, fused into Cardina or Jerimias and Mafalda fused into Jerimalda.
14. The changes from decade to decade were generally slight and reporting disaggregated results adds little to
the analysis.
15. Douglas C. Libby and Clotilde de Andrade Paiva, ‘‘Manumission Practices in a Late Eighteenth-century
Brazilian Slave Parish: São José d’El Rey in 1795,’’ Slavery & Abolition 21, no. 1 (2000): 104–5; Douglas
C. Libby, ‘‘A empiria das cores: representações identitárias nas Minas Gerais dos séculos XVIII e XIX,’’ in
Escravidão, mestiçagens, populações e identidades culturais, org. Eduardo França Paiva, Isnara Pereira
Ivo, and Ilton Cesar Martins (São Paulo, Brazil: Programa de Pós-Graduação em História/UFMG,
2010), 54–57.
16. The absence of African names in our records stands in sharp contrast to the presence in the Carolinas during
the colonial period. See, for example, John C. Inscoe, ‘‘Carolina Slave Names: An Index to Acculturation,’’
The Journal of Southern History XLIX, no. 4 (1983): 532–33. Nothing like the plantation names appearing
in the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century British Caribbean show up in any of our sources. Portuguese
American and Brazilian court proceedings might prove a more fruitful source for names of African origin
employed by slaves themselves. For plantation names, see Jerome S. Handler and JoAnn Jacoby, ‘‘Slave
Names and Naming in Barbados, 1650-1830,’’ The William and Mary Quarterly, Third Series 53, no. 4
(1996): 690–701; for possible use of African names in the Portuguese Atlantic world, see Joao Jose Reis,
Flávio dos Santos Gomes, and Marcus J. M. de Carvalho, O Alufá Rufino: Tráfico, Escravidaõ e Liberdade
no Atlântico Negro (c.1822-1853) (São Paulo, Brazil: Companhia das Letras, 2010).
17. Libby, ‘‘A empiria das cores,’’ 47.
18. Little Jacira was baptized less than two weeks after her birth (on January 28, 1796). She was registered as a
natural, her father was unnamed, and she was the property of Manoel Luı́s de Carvalho. Her godparents
were listed as Manoel and Nazaré, slaves belonging to separate owners. Most intriguing is the fact that
Libby and Frank 85
Jacira’s mother is not mentioned in the entry, probably indicating that she had died in childbirth or soon
thereafter. Arquivo Paroquial de Santo Antônio de São José (hereafter, APSASJRM), Livro 9, 498. Jacira
was the name given to a species of honeybee.
19. Mariana is not a saint’s name, but was very popular throughout our entire period, both for the daughters of
freeborn mothers and infant slave girls (among girls born to manumitted mothers, it turned up only three
times). Although the name is considered to be of Latin origin, its popularity in the Portuguese Empire dated
from the reign of D. João V (1707–1750) and was homage to his Queen, Maria Ana of Austria. In 1745, for
example, the Vila do Ribeirão do Carmo was elevated to a city in order to serve as the seat of the only
bishopric in colonial Minas Gerais. As part of the act of concession of its city charter the Vila was re-
baptized Cidade de Mariana. Waldemar de Almeida Barbosa, Dicionário historico-geográfico de Minas
Gerais (Belo Horizonte, Bazil: Editora Saterb, 1971), 278. Isabel Alexandra Fernandes, Reis e Rainhas
de Portugal (Lisboa, Portugal: Texto Editora, 1999).
20. Maria was also extremely popular because the Virgin Mary and Mother of God was, after all, considered to
be the most influential of all saints and, therefore, a figure that might more readily intercede in favor of her
namesakes.
21. Three early examples of this practice that would continue at least up until the late nineteenth century follow
here: On June 4, 1754, Ana, mina, and Antônio, Angola, slaves belonging to Caetano Lopes de Azevedo,
baptized their crioulo twin boys, both named José. On August 18, 1760, at the Desterro chapel, Antônio
Marques dos Santos and Catarina Vicência baptized their twin sons, both named João. On January 5,
1766, at the chapel in Lage, Captain Antônio Marques de Morais’ slave couple João, cassange, and Ana
de Jesus, crioula, baptized their twin daughters, both named Maria. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 34, 231, 340.
22. APSASJRM, Casamentos, livros 21–28; Arquivo Paroquial de Nossa Senhora de Franca de Lage (hereafter,
APNSPFLAGE), Batismos, Matrimônios 1798, Maio-1858, Jul; APSASJRM, Matrimônios 1840, Jul-1876,
Fev; APSASJRM, Matrimônios 1881, Ago-1927, Jul; Arquivo Paroquial Nossa Senhora da Gloria de Passa
Tempo (hereafter, APNSGPT), Matrimônios 1883, Abr-1910, Dez; Arquivo Paroquial Nossa Senhora da Oli-
veira de Oliveira (hereafter, APNSOOLIV), Matrimônios, Óbitos 1865, Ago-1888, Dez; APNSPFLAGE,
Óbitos e Matrimônio 1840, Ago-1847, Fev. N obs ¼ 5,440 brides; N with Maria as first given name, 1,244.
23. These findings are very similar to the sets of most popular names turning up in studies of other parishes in
the modern Lusitanian world. For a study of the Azorean migrant population settlers on the island of Santa
Catarina—present-day Florianópolis—see Sérgio Luiz Ferreira, ‘‘A utilização de prenomes: uma compar-
ação entre uma freguesia do Sul do Brasil e uma freguesia açoriana,’’ Boletim de História Demográfica 12,
no. 36 (Abril 2005): 49–56. The Azorean parish of São João (Ilha do Pico) is examined in Maria Noberta
Bettencout Amorim, ‘‘Falando de demografia histórica,’’ NEPS: Boletim Informativo 33–34 (Novembro
2003): 4–8. Amorim also investigates naming practices in two parishes located in the North of Portugal:
Bettencout Amorim, ‘‘Identificação de pessoas em duas paróquias do Norte de Portugal,’’ Boletim de Tra-
balhos Históricos XXXIV (1983): 213–79. Findings for eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Lisbon are also
comparable although some minor differences appear: Robert Rowland, ‘‘Práticas de nomeação em Portugal
durante a Época Moderna: ensaio de aproximação,’’ Etnografia 12, no. 1 (maio 2008): 23–25. A recent
study of late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century Porto Alegre in the south of Brazil also corroborates
our findings: Nathan Camilo, ‘‘‘Feliz o homen que deixa um bom nome:’ práticas de nomeação e apadrin-
hamento na freguesia de Nossa Senhora da Madre de Deus de Porto Alegre (1772-1810),’’ Trabalho de
Conclusão de Curso, Departamento de História, Universidade do Vale do Rio dos Sinos, Brazil, 2011.
24. Adão appeared a mere seven times among nonslave infant boys and Eva only eleven times among nonslave
infant girls.
25. Overall, no discernable patterns emerge when more closely examining the baptismal entries for slave
infants named Adão and Eva. Legitmacy rates were 43.4 percent for boys named Adão and 49.0 percent
for girls named Eva. That was somewhat higher than the rate obtained for all slave children in the parish
(37.3 percent), perhaps suggesting that the biblical story of Adam and Eve somehow inspired formally mar-
ried slave couples when naming their offspring. On a curious final note, three sets of twins, baptized in
1766, 1770, and 1802, were named Adão and Eva. The mothers of these twins were all single—respec-
tively, an angola, a crioula and a woman not labeled according to color/origin. The specific baptismal
entries just mentioned are found in APSASJRM, Livro 7, 201, 228, 306; Livro 10, 81; Livro 13, 13; Livro
14, 65v., manuscript. For earlier findings, see Douglas Libby and Zephyr Frank, ‘‘Exploring Parish Reg-
isters in Colonial Minas Gerais, Brazil: Ethnicity in São José do Rio das Mortes, 1780-1810,’’ Colonial
Latin American Historical Review 14, no. 3 (Summer 2005): 223, 235; Douglas C. Libby, ‘‘Infant Slave
Baptisms, Legitimacy, Parental Origins, Godparenthood and Naming Practices in the Parish of São José
do Rio das Mortes (1750-1850),’’ in Slaves and Religions in Graeco-Roman Antiquity and the Modern
Americas, ed. Stephen Hodkinson and Dick Geary (Newcastle upon Tyne, UK: Cambridge Scholars Pub-
lishing, 2012), 206–42; Cheryll Ann Cody, ‘‘There Was No ‘Absalom’ on the Ball Plantation: Slave Nam-
ing Practices in the South Carolina Low Contry, 1720-1865,’’ American Historical Review 92, no. 3 (1987):
563–96. This is an important piece on naming practices among slaves in the Old South. The author finds
that Adam and Eve were popular names among slaves in the nineteenth-century South Carolina rice-
producing region.
26. These findings lend support to authors who insist that naming practices lay largely within the realm of slave
agency and, therefore, that infant names were chosen within the confines of the slave family. See, among
others, Herbert G. Gutman, The Black Family in Slavery and Freedom, 1750-1925 (New York: Vintage,
1976), 194–95; Sheila de Castro Faria, A colônia em movimento, 294. In contrast, aside from emphasizing
that owners were responsible for choosing the (often ridiculous) names of African arrivals, Ira Berlin
asserts that self-consciously paternalistic nineteenth-century masters in the antebellum South tried to inter-
fere in naming practices slaves had developed over the previous two centuries. Ira Berlin, Generations
of Captivity: A History of African-American Slaves (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 2003), 32, 54, 57–58, 65, 73, 85–86, 105–6, 121, 136–37, 143, 205. Cody, ‘‘There
was no ‘Absalom,’’’ 1987, in contrast, demonstrates that during the late seventeenth century and early
decades of the eighteenth masters heavily interfered in naming practices, in large part because of the
arrival of so many African adults. Later, however, those same names chosen by masters would often
be repeated by slaves aiming to honor their ancestors and to perpetuate their family history.
27. These names were almost evenly divided between the Old and New Testaments; no links to Africa are evi-
dent, nor do any of the stories related to the figures suggest that they might have inspired enslaved parents
in the process of naming their children. Among slave boys, the name Gaspar appeared in 1755, 1757, and
1805, the name Nicésio turned up in 1800 and 1807, and Rufo in 1821 and 1829. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 79,
93; Livro 10, 77v, 216, 337; Livro 12, 115v; Livro 15, 22. Azarias, Hermogênio, Ismael, Izac, and Josias
were baptized in 1832, 1827, 1839, 1824, and 1829, respectively; the slave girls Felistina, Laudelina,
Lázara, Nazária, Sara, and Rachel were baptized in 1807, 1840, 1806, 1770, 1873, and 1878, respectively.
APSASJRM, Livro 7, 398; Livro 10, 232, 253; Livro 11A, 150v; Livro 12, 190; Livro 13, 11v, 20v; Livro
14, 93, 125, 207-207v; Livro 16, 215; Livro 17, 21. See Elias Soares, Dicionário etimológico de nomes
bı´blicos (São Paulo, Brazil: Beith Shalom, 2010); Evandro de Souza Lopes, Os nomes bı´blicos e seus
significados, 15th ed. (São Paulo, Brazil: Editora CPAD, 2008).
28. The saints were Acácio, Afonso, Ambrósio, Apolônia, Aurélia, Barnabé, Colecta, Crisostomo, Dário,
Dimas, Fausto, Frederico, Irineu, Judas, Juliano, Leão, Macário, Melchiades, Militão, Mônica, Nestor,
Pancrácio, Peregrino, Prisca, Tadeu, Terêncio, and Tito and from 1755 to 1877, a total of thirty-nine chilr-
den were named after them. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 69, 85, 93, 96, 192, 124, 201, 209, 297, 443, 563; Livro 8,
246; Livro 9, 462, 494, 498, 529, 572; Livro 10, 149, 202; Livro 12, 55, 70v, 72, 73, 75, 136, 199v; Livro 13,
9; Livro 14, 131v, 151v; Livro 15, 23, 38v, 77v, 182; Livro 16, 2, 5v, 72, 80, 86; Livro 17, 17.
29. ‘‘Devotion is rarely selfless and generally is directed toward saints seen as the most influential advocates
[in dealing] with God.’’ Louis Reau, Iconografia del Arte Cristiano—Introducción General (Barcelona,
Spain: Ediciones del Serbal, 2000), 441.
30. For systematic studies of saints, see Santiago de La Vorágine, La Leyenda Dourada, Vol. 2 (Madrid, Spain:
Alianza Editorial, 1990); Donald Attwater, Dicionário de Santos (São Paulo, Brazil: Art Editora, 1991);
Libby and Frank 87
Juan F. Roig, Iconografia de los Santos (Barbacena, Spain: Omega, 1950); Mário Sgarbossa, Os santos e os
beatos da Igreja do ocidente e do orienta: com uma antologia de escritos espirituais (São Paulo, Brazil:
Paulinas, 2003); Nilza B. Megale, Os santos do povo brasileiro (Petrópolis, Brazil: Vozes, 2002).
31. Caio César Boschi, Os leigos e o poder (irmandades leigas e polı´tica colonizadora em Minas Gerais) (São
Paulo, Brazil: Ática, 1986), 187–90.
32. We would like to thank Professor Adalgisa Arantes Campos and her student Leandro Gonçalves for
sharing their knowledge of devotional history with us, and in particular, for their suggestions as to how
this group of saints could be interpreted in the context of slave naming practices.
33. The Rol was not paginated, so that it is not possible to give specific location indications when citing it.
It was organized by place—the Vila or district containing the Mother Church of Santo Antônio and its
chapels—and by a rough alphabetical order based on proper names.
34. The term crioulo/a was used to designate blacks born in Brazil, whether their parents were African,
mixed, or black natives of Brazil. Agregados were residents of the fogo or domicile who were not part
of the immediate family of the designated head of household, although they could be relatives.
35. APSASJRM, Livro 10, 244.
36. The couple was typical of the first half of the eighteenth century in Minas Gerais: a Portuguese groom
and a white native bride. A set of baptismal records is available for Aiuruoca for the decade of 1740,
but we were unable to detect an entry corresponding to Ana Maria. FamilySearch.org, Brazil, Church
Records, Minas Gerais, Aiurouca, Batismos 1743–1752. Consulted on September 14, 2011.
37. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 236, 286, 337, 348, 461–461v, 519v, 569v, 629v; Livro 8, 45v, 91, 145; Arquivo
Paroquial de Nossa Senhora do Pilar de São João Del Rei (hereafter, APNSPSJR), Livro 20, 20v.
38. APSASJRM, Livro 24, 20v, 141, 174; Livro 25, 206v.
39. APSASJRM, Livro 6, 165; Livro 10, 37, 102, 153, 206, 281, 318, 375, 413; Livro 12, 8v, 35, 117.
40. APSASJRM, Livro 10, 244, 313, 415; Livro 82, unpaginated, Livro 12, 149. The second entry registered
twins and the fourth the burial of an infant girl.
41. APSASJRM, Livro 25, 329; Livro 27, 47v, 48.
42. APSASJRM, Livro 6, 240, Livro 12, 106v, 118–118v, 128v; Livro 14, 20, 118, 143v, 163v–164, 187, 287–
287v; Livro 15, 103v–104.
43. APSASJRM, Livro 27, 152v; Livro 28, 26v. The fact that these weddings took place in private chapels—
very much in vogue among wealthy farmers and ranchers in nineteenth-century Minas—underscores their
elite status.
45. More or less equivalent to Sargent Major: the commanding officer of local militia companies. Almost every
adult male from these elite white families bore rank in the local militias (Companhias de Ordenanças or,
after 1830, the Guarda Nacional).
46. The term mestiço appeared some sixty-nine times in the Rol de Confessados and its precise meaning is not
clear, although we suspect that a degree of indigenous ancestry was implied. See Douglas C. Libby and
Clotilde de Andrade Paiva, ‘‘Manumission Practices in a Late Eighteenth-century Brazilian Slave Parish:
São Jose d’El Rey in 1795,’’ Slavery & Abolition 21, no. 1 (2000): 107–10.
47. The São José registers provide us with but a sprinkling of baptismal entries prior to 1751 and are incom-
plete for the early part of the 1750s.
48. APSASJRM, Livro 82, unpaginated.
49. No information regarding Joaquina Rosa’a parents has been located thus far. Here it should be recalled that
the São José marriage registers have survived only from the 1780s on.
51. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 496–496v, 545v, 570v; Livro 8, 15v–16, 65, 117, 146, 196, 239, 252–252v, 283v;
Livro 9, 327. A girl and two boys, born in 1782, 1784, and 1787, do not appear in the Rol and can be
assumed to have died. Two boys and two girls were born after 1787 and were still not confessing in
1795 (and, since the girls were both named Maria, the first must have died soon after birth).
52. APSASJRM, Livro 24, 142. Hipólito had risen to the rank of Captain. Unfortunately, marriage registers
only rarely mentioned the age of the bride and groom, but it is certain that Maria Rosa would have been
a good deal younger than her husband who was roughly 56 years old when they wed.
53. APSASJRM, Livro 25, 206v.
54. APSASJRM, Livro 10, 244, 313, 415; Livro 82, unpaginated; Livro 12, 49.
55. In 1831, Severino and Ana Inácia were residing in Padre Gaspar, an outlying district/chapel of the parish
and their household appeared in a nominal list prepared by local officials that year. Two sons and two
daughters lived with the couple. Of the former, Joaquim Alves Lima was listed as married to Dona Con-
stância. Again, Joaquim and Constância must have married in another parish. See Arquivo Público Mine-
iro. Seção Provincial. Listas nominativas da década de 1830, organizadas em banco de dados pelo Núcleo
de Pesquisa em História Econômica e Demográfica do Cedeplar/UFMG, Distrito de Padre Gaspar, 1831.
The baptism appears in APSASJRM, Livro 14, 9.
57. APSASJRM, Livro 14, 175–175v, 204v, 268, 283; Livro 16, 12, 25v, 39v, 58, 244v.
58. APSASJRM, Livro 28, 47v, 64v–65. 71v, 82v, 87v.
59. APSASJRM, Livro 11A, 192; Livro 17, 50v, 91v, 130v, 123–123v.
60. The oldest of the slaves was the mina quartada Josefa Moreira. The term quartada means that she was in
the process of purchasing her freedom from Quitéria.
61. Libby and Paiva, ‘‘Manumissions . . . ’’
62. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 34. According to the Rol, Quitéria’s son Severino would have been born around
1748, that is, a period for which the baptismal records have practically all disappeared.
63. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 92, 131.
65. Their son Joaquim Moreira da Silva married twice and appeared in his marriage registers as the legitimate
child of José and Quitéria. Generally speaking, such legitimization was not separately registered in parish
records, since the marriage of illegitimates’ (naturais’) parents automatically served as an act of legitimi-
zation. APSASJRM, Livro 24, 13v; Livro 25, 291.
66. See Vide, Constituiço˜es Primeiras, Livro Primeiro, Tı́tulo LXXI, 303. In Portuguese America, the Church
attempted to protect slave marriages by condemning owners who separated married slave couples as mortal
sinners. The effect was to drastically reduce so-called abroad marriages since slaveholders felt uncomfor-
table about not being able to control the fate of a slave spouse owned by someone else. It also seems rea-
sonable to assume that slaveholders may have frowned upon formal marriage between couples they owned
given that these Church rules interfered with property rights. See D. Sebastião Monteiro da Vide, Consti-
tuições Primeiras do Arcebispado da Bahia (Brası́lia, Brazil: Senado Federal, Conselho Editorial, 2007
[1707]), Livro Primeiro, Tı́tulo XII.
67. Escritório Técnico do Instituto do Patrimônio Histórico e Artı́stico Nacional, São João Del Rei (hereafter,
ETIPHAN-SJR). São José, Livro de Notas do 2 Ofıćio, 10–11.
68. ETIPHAN-SJR. São José, Livro de Notas do 2 Ofıćio, 109.
69. APSASJRM, Livro 7, 544, 630; Livro 8, 88, 196.
70. APSASJRM, Livro 24, 13v; Livro 8, 308. Joaquim was born after his mother had obtained manumission
and, therefore, was freeborn. Nevertheless, he was almost always referred to as a crioulo forro when
appearing in subsequent parish records. The implication is that condition of freedmen weighed so heavily
on these first two generations of the family that Joaquim assumed that condition despite having been free-
born. The forro or liberto labels were freely used throughout the eighteenth century both in Minas and the
rest of Portuguese America and often accompanied color designations such as crioulo, pardo, and cabra
even when the corresponding individuals had never been slaves. See Libby, ‘‘A empiria e as cores . . . ’’
71. APSASJRM, Livro 25, 291; Livro 12, 31v.
Libby and Frank 89
74. APSASJRM, Livro 10, 48, 162, 229, 281.

77. APSASJRM, Livro 14, 18–18v; Livro 15, 55, 111v.
79. APSASJRM, Livro 16, 94v, 143v, 182.
80. APSASJRM, Livro 28, 45. This marriage required a dispensation owing to consanguinity. Maria José and
Francisco were apparently distant cousins, but the dispensation papers have not turned up thus far making it
impossible to determine exactly what their kinship relationship may have been.
81. APSASJRM, Livro 10A, 37v; Livro 11A, 161, 188; Livro 17, 50.
82. For a more detailed discussion of patterns of color and origin labeling, see Douglas Libby, ‘‘A empiria e as
cores . . . ,’’ especially 52-54, as well as Libby and Frank, ‘‘Exploring Parish Registers . . . ’’
83. Arquivo Público Mineiro, Seção Provincial, Listas nominativas da década de 1830, organizadas em banco
de dados pelo Núcleo de Pesquisa em História Econômica e Demográfica do Cedeplar/UFMG, Vila de Saõ
José, 1831.
84. Arquivo Público Mineiro, Seção Provincial, 1838; APSASJRM, Livro 14, 223.
85. APSASJRM, Livro 12, 137v; Livro 14, 9v, 127, 150, 173v, 223; Livro 15, 60, 109.
86. This strategy of ‘‘hiding’’ children and the unacknowledged union that produced them is generally
thought to have been a privilege of the white elites. See Edna Maria Resende, ‘‘Ecos do liberalismo:
ideários e vivéncias das elites regionais na construção do Estado Imperial, Barbacena (1831-1840)’’
(PhD diss., Programa de Pós-Graduação em História, Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais, 2008);
Maria Beatriz Nizza da Silva, História da famı´lia no Brasil colonial (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Nova Fron-
teira, 1998), 215–19.
87. APSASJRM, Livro 27, 110, 141v, 165v, 176v; Livro 28, 14.
88. Arquivo Eclesiástico do Arcebispado de Mariana (AEAM), Processo Matrimonial/Dispensa de Consangui-
nidade. Ladislau Albino Nepomuceno e Francisca Sancha da Silva. Registro 114519, Armário 45, pasta
11452.
89. Until quite recently, historians considered the term pardo as synonymous with mulatto but the principal
reference appears to have been racial/ethnic/color mixing that often went far beyond the results of black
and white intercourse. Again, Libby, ‘‘A empiria e as cores . . . ’’
90. APSASJRM, Livro 27, 110, 141v, 165v, 176v; Livro 28, 13v–14, 14. The baptism appears in APSASJRM,
Livro 11A, 56v, 114v, 170; Livro 17. 67v.
91. APSASJRM, Livro 14, 284–284v; Livro 15, 256v–257; Livro 16, 22, 47, 55, 70, 86v, 98–98v, 148–148v,
161, 172, 175, 198, 198v, 222, 223, 226, 247, 248v; Livro 11A,7, 22, 33v, 45, 48v, 56v, 60, 82, 82v, 83v,
106v, 113v, 114v, 131v, 140v, 157v, 169v, 170, 177v, 181v, 182v, 195v.
92. APSASJRM, Livro 28, 25v, 49v, 58, 61v–62, 76, 84, 128–128v, 132, 147.
93. APSASJRM, Livro 17, 61, 67v, 81v–82, 127v, 143v, 148–148v; Livro 10A, 47v, 72v, 84, 93v, 98v, 118;
Livro 11A, 119, 140, 142v, 144, 156, 159, 189, 199.
94. APSASJRM, Livro 11A, 79v, 132, 159.
95. Maximiniano and Martiniano were most definitely unusual names, nor was Fortunato a common appella-
tion. One study has suggested that foundlings were often given unusual names because they served as
‘‘markers’’ for mothers or unwed couples who hoped to be able to reclaim (and perhaps legitimize) their
children in the future. That does not seem to apply to Bárbara Patrı́cia’s foundlings since so many of their
godparents were chosen from the ranks of the maternal family. See Renato Pinto Venâncio, ‘‘‘A madrinha
ausente:’ condição feminina no Rio de Janeiro (1750-1800),’’ in Brasil: história econômica e demográfica,
org. Iraci Del Nero da Costa (São Paulo, Brazil: Instituto de Pesquisas Econômicas, 1986), 95–102.
96. In our sources, individuals do not appear with last names in documents prior to christening and for the most
part initially in their respective marriage registers.
97. The sample includes a total of 103 individuals who appeared at least once as adults in the sources.
98. Third-generation Esméria Martins dos Passos presumably took these surnames from her father’s family.
His full name was Joaquim Martins de Souza and, because we have no marriage register, there is no way
to know where the dos Passos surname came from.
99. The reference is to Sı́lvia Maria Jardim Brügger, Minas patriarcal: famı´lia e sociedade (São João Del
Rei—séculos XVIII e XIX) (São Paulo, Brazil: Annablume, 2007). For South Carolina, a certain tendency
toward matrilineal naming was found by Cheryll Ann Cody, ‘‘Naming, Kinship, and Estate Dispersal:
Notes on Slave Family Life on a South Carolina Plantation, 1786-1833,’’ The William and Mary Quar-
terly, Third Series 39, no. 1 (1982): 192–211, 204–5.
100. Except in the cases of intermarriage, we have not reconstructed the families of spouses marrying into each
of our three family groups. Marriage registers generally identify the parents of the bride and groom and,
thus, future grandparents whose names might be passed on to grandchildren, but that leaves out one set of
uncles and aunts for each baptism. Occasionally, the register itself mentioned the relationship of godpar-
ents to their godchild, identifying, among others, aunts and uncles. That still means that familial namesake
relationships are underestimated in Table 6. See Table A2 for a more detailed look at the Moreira da Silva
family that has been more extensively reconstructed, thus allowing for the identification of a wide array of
namesake relationships among kin.
101. Note that this figure is similar to the rate calculated by Cody, ‘‘Naming, Kinship, and Estate Dispersal,’’ 205–6.
102. Camilo, ‘‘‘Feliz o homem que deixa um bom nome’ . . . ,’’ 47–52.
103. Godparenthood and compadrio relations tend to be seen as manifestations of the construction of social ties
that horizontally and vertically integrated communities in societies marked by rigid hierarchies. Thus, for
both parents and godparents, choices were steeped in political significance. We certainly do not question
the validity of such analyses. Nevertheless, our findings contain examples of choices of godparents that
were, in fact, rooted in familial inflection although they appeared to have been based on the establishment
of vertical relationships of both a social and racial nature. Specifically, let us recall that Father Luı́s Júlio
da Fonseca stood as godfather to Bárbara Patrı́cia’s daughter Ludovina and that Severino Alves Lima
sponsored Bárbara Patrı́ca’s youngest child Claudimira (APSASJRM, Livro 14, 150, 223). A casual obser-
ver would justifiably conclude that these two members of the São José white elite were building up their
respective client networks by sponsoring the pardo girls of a single Afro-Brazilian mother; we now know
that was not the case, however, as they were uncles of these infant girls and their sponsorship represented a
crucial acknowledgement of a whole set of familial ties. For the more traditional interpretations see,
among others, Stephen Gudeman and Stuart Schwartz, ‘‘Cleansing Original Sin: Godparenthood and the
Baptism of Slaves in Eighteenth-century Bahia,’’ in Kinship Ideology and Practice in Latin America, ed.
Raymond T. Smith (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1984), 44–48; Richard Graham,
Patronage and Politics in Nineteent-century Brazil (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1990);
Donald Ramos, ‘‘Teias sagradas e profanas: o lugar do batismo e compadrio na sociedade de Vila Rica
durante o século do ouro,’’ Varia Historia 31 (January 2004): 41–68;’’ Sheila de Castro Faria, A colônia
em movimento, 1998; Vera Alice Cardoso Silva, ‘‘Aspectos da função polı́tica das elites na sociedade
colonial brasileira: o ‘parentesco espiritual’ como elemento de coesão social,’’ Varia Historia 31 (January
2004): 97–119; Renato Pinto Venâncio, ‘‘Redes de compadrio em Vila Rica: um estudo de caso,’’ in Exer-
cıćios em micro-história, org. Mônica Ribeiro de Oliveira and Carla Maria de Carvalho (Rio de Janeiro,
Brazil: Fundação Getúlio Vargas, 2009), 239–61.
104. Another way of putting it would be to speak of a strengthening of family ties or relationships. A clear
example of such strengthening of ties emerges when looking at the thirty-eight marriages registered for
the three families over the years. Eight of them, or some 21 percent, required dispensations because of
consanguinity. Seven of those eight marriages took place in the Moreira da Silva family, so we are not
dealing here with strategies aimed at avoiding the dispersal of family fortunes, but rather with a strong
web of family and social relations. APSASJRM, Livro 24, 20v, 141, 145, 174; Livro 25, 73v, 110,
141, 165v, 176v, 206v, 273; Livro 27, 7, 47v, 73v, 80v, 92v, 110, 141v, 151v, 152v, 165v, 176v; Livro
28, 14, 25v, 26v, 33v, 47v, 58, 61v-62, 64v-65, 71v, 76, 82v, 84, 87v, 128-128v, 132, 147.
Libby and Frank 91
Author Biographies
Douglas C. Libby is currently a visiting scholar at the Stanford University. He is a professor of His-
tory at the Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais (UFMG) in Belo Horizonte, Brazil and a senior
research fellow of the Conselho Nacional de Pesquisa. He has written extensively on slavery and
the Brazilian slave society of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. He and Professor Frank have
published together recently in the Colonial Latin American Historical Review and the Revista de
História. Over the past few years, Professor Libby has also published articles in The Americas,
Slavery & Abolition, and the Luso-Brazilian Review, as well as a number of chapters in collaborative
works, mostly published in Brazil.
Zephyr Frank is an associate professor of Latin American history at the Stanford University. His
research focuses on the economic and social history of Brazil, with extensions into cultural and lit-
erary history. His publications have appeared in a range of journals including the Hispanic American
Historical Review, Latin American Research Review, Journal of Economic History, and Compara-
tive Studies in Society and History. His next book, on the literature of nineteenth-century Rio de
Janeiro, is due for publication in early 2016.

Naming Practices in Eighteenth-And Nineteenth-Century Brazil: Names, Namesakes, and Families in The Parish of Sa o Jos E, Minas Gerais

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Naming Practices in Eighteenth-And Nineteenth-Century Brazil: Names, Namesakes, and Families in The Parish of Sa o Jos E, Minas Gerais

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Journal of Family History

The Onomastic Universe of Eighteenth- and Nineteenth-century

feminine versions of the names of male saints: Agostinha/Agostinho, Apolinária/Apolinário, Josefa/

Boys’ names Girls’ names

Names given to Names given to girls

Names given to boys Names given to girls

Names given to Names given to

Focusing on Three Interrelated Families and Their Naming Patterns

Generation F M O GF GM PGF PGM MGF MGM PU PA MU MA S NN Ta

Source: See Table 5.

Names of Catholic saints

Table A1. (continued)

Justiniano, Justino, Justo, Ladislau, Lauriano, Lázaro,

Table A1. (continued)

Generation F M O GF GM PGF PGM MGF MGM PU PA MU MA S NN Ta

Source: See Table 5.

Table A3. Shares of Most Common Names by Condition.

Name All Free Freed Slave

Ana 12.7 14.8 16.3 7.8

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

74. APSASJRM, Livro 10, 48, 162, 229, 281.

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