It Takes a Name to Make a Name
According to Judith’s baptism certificate, she was born January 25, 1880, at nine o’clock in the morning, in the provincial city of Viseu, the “filha natural e primeira do nome de Maria do Carmo, solteira” (natural daughter and first of that name of Maria do Carmo, single). Neither Judith’s father nor his parents are named; her maternal grandparents were Jose Felipe and Maria Roza. Judith was baptized on February 1 in the Viseu cathedral. Her godparents were Joaquim Pessôa, an ensign in the Fourteenth Regiment, and Maria da Encarnação, her mother’s sister.[1] In Portugal as throughout the Western world until the late twentieth century, “natural” children, those born out of wedlock, were classified as illegimate. As a natural child who had not been acknowledged by her father, Judith was legally denied the rights to be housed, clothed, fed, educated, or otherwise supported by him. She could not inherit his property if he died. Her surname was her mother’s.[2]
By age twenty-eight, Judith was living in Lisbon, at 70 Rua do Arco do Carvalhão. She made a return visit to Viseu on November 26, 1907, to report that she had been legally recognized as the daughter of Francisco dos Reis Ramos, an infantry ensign, then deceased.[3] Taking her father’s name was no small achievement on Judith’s part. In order to acquire it, she pursued legal action against her own mother, Maria do Carmo Ramos, and her younger sister, Ermengarda dos Reis Ramos, then under fourteen years old.[4] Maria and Ermengarda were then living on the ground floor at 92 Coelho da Rocha. Unsurprisingly, Judith had moved out.[5]
When filing the the lawsuit, Judith dated her father’s death to October 20, 1893, when she would have been fourteen years old. By that time, he had risen to infantry lieutenant. Although Francisco and Maria were both still single, Maria was apparently raising three children: Judith, Ermengarda, and a son, Armando. Ermengarda, Judith alleged, was not Francisco’s daughter, “nem por consaguinidade nem por affinidade” (neither by consanguinity nor by affinity); Armando had died on March 11, 1906. Judith, for her part, “sempre foi reputada e tratada por filha do referido Francisco dos Reis Ramos tanto por este como pela familia d’elle como pelo publico” (was always reputed and treated as the daughter of the aforementioned Francisco dos Reis Ramos, as much by him as by his family and by the public). Judith offered three of Francisco’s letters to her as evidence, as well as a “um bilhete . . . dirigido a D. Maria Barbara Ramos, mãe do mesmo Francisco dos Reis Ramos, por este, que o escreve e assignou e no qual revelou ser pai da A., bilhete que só ha poucos dias esta obteve” (a card . . . addressed to Dona Maria Barbara Ramos, mother of the said Francisco dos Reis Ramos, written and signed by him, who therein revealed himself to be the father of the Plaintiff, a card she obtained only a few days ago).[6]
Francisco did indeed treat Judith as his daughter. The first letter, dated March 7, 1893 and addressed to “Minha querida filha” (My dear daughter), offers us a vivid glimpse into their family life:
Diz tua mãe na sua amavel carta, que é melhor não escrever e não andar a mangar e que ja não tem ninguem; eu é que me parece que já não tenho familia que de mim se importe. Venho para aqui n’um estado de saude desgraçadissimo; estou ha 8 dias n’esta terra e não tenho uma amica pessoa da familia que me diga, o papai porque não escreve? Está peor? Esto custa! Estou bem recompensado, das sacrificios que tenho feito, não ha duvida! . . . Minha filha, tens 13 annos; não és distituida de inteligencia; comprehendes perfeitamente a que vou diser-te: Nunca sejas ingrata; beija a mão que te beneficia e afasta de ti doutrinas que só professam os ingratos. Teu pai é teu amigo assim como é de todos que hoje constituem a nossa familia; por isso peço-te me mandes diser como passam de saude. O meu estado não lh’o digo por que vejo que pouco ou nada lhe interesse.[7]
Your mother says in her amiable letter, that it is better not to write and not to deceive and that she has no one; I’m the one, it seems to me, who has no family to care for me. I come here in a most unfortunate state of health; I’ve been in this country for 8 days and I have not one friendly person in this family to ask me, oh papa, why don’t you write? Are you worse? This stings! I’m well repaid, for the sacrifices I’ve made, no doubt! . . . My daughter, you are 13 years old; you are not destitute of intelligence, you understand perfectly what I’m about to tell you: Never be ungrateful; kiss the hand that helps you and throw off doctrines only ingrates profess. Your father is your friend, as he is a friend to all those who now make up our family; therefore, I ask you to send me word of their health. As for my own state, I’ll say nothing, since I can see it interests them but little, if at all.
Francisco and Maria’s relationship seems to have been on the rocks. He was traveling with his infantry unit and sending money home; she was raising three children and keeping the house in order. One suspects that the money was not enough. In any case, Francisco’s attempt to reassure Judith that he is “amigo . . . de todos que hoje constituem a nossa familia” (friend . . . to all those who now make up our family) seems to support Judith’s later claim that at least one of Maria’s children was not fathered by Francisco.
The second letter, addressed to “Judith,” is dated March 11 of the same year. It conveys the news that Francisco’s health has slightly improved, though “a tosse continua” (the cough continues). A friend or colleague has sent Judith’s mother 1,300 réis, which seems to be a substantial portion of Francisco’s monthly income. Even so, Francisco hopes to have two new dresses made, one for Maria and one for Judith, whom he asks to tell him how many meters of cloth Maria will need. His detachment has just been restationed until, he expects, April 18 or 19. We can infer that Maria and her children were supporting themselves, at least in part, by farming; Francisco asks: “Como vamos de quintal? Já termos as batataz todas nascidaz? Morreram os coelhos ou são ainda todos vivos?” (How are we doing with the garden? Have all the sweet potatoes already sprouted? Did the rabbits die, or are they still alive?).[8] Francisco’s use of the first-person plural here seems to reflect his hope (directly expressed in the first letter) to ingratiate himself with his wife and children. Of course, he would not have been weeding the garden or feeding the rabbits.
The third letter, to “Minha querida filha,” dated October 19, tells us more about the family conflicts, particularly between husband and wife. To his elder daughter, Francisco wrote:
Vejo que tua mãe está muito mal informada com sospeito, tanto á minha estada aqui, pois não deve ir além das eleições que são no dia 23; como á minha vontade de estar aqui: Já me disse n’uma carta que eu que fui [sic] ali enganal’a, e que eu é que tenho a culpa de estar aqui porque pedi. Disse me mais amas cousas, falando em Portalegre que eu me abstenho de te falar n’elhas por que assim o devo faser. Pencei que a esse respeito já estaria curada; faleu-me tambem em bailes. Eu bailes! Fui é verdade a uma reuniãosita a que assistiu a cabo que outro dia me foi visitar, e mas nada. Tomara eu ir me já imbora. Mas eu não o posse faser sem ordem.[9]
I see your mother is very ill informed, as I suspected, both as to my stationing here, since it must not leave until after the elections, which are on the 23rd, and as to my desire to be here: She has already told me in a letter that I went here to deceive here, and that I am the one who is at fault for being here because I requested it. She said other lovely things too, speaking of Portalegre—things which I refrain from repeating to you, because it is my duty. I thought she was already cured in this respect; she also spoke to me of dance halls. Dance halls—me! I went, it’s true, to a little gathering, which I did attend in the end, after a visit the other day, nothing more. I took my leave straight away. But I could not do it in disorder.
It seems that Maria suspected Francisco of infidelity, and for good reason—Francisco’s letter mentions the city of Portalegre in passing, without further explanation, as though his daughter would understand its significance. Whatever happened in Portalegre, we can imagine that Francisco and Maria, who did not scruple to discuss their marriage through their daughter, would have made it known to her. Francisco’s refusal to repeat “mais amas cousas” (other lovely things) likely applies only to the details of the bedroom. By claiming that his wife spoke to him of matters so sexually explicit that he cannot repeat them to his daughter, his letter conveys to Judith that her mother is not, by nineteenth-century standards, uma mulher digna (a respectable woman). Would this have damaged Judith’s opinion of her mother? Or had Judith already ceased to care for that particular set of social conventions? Decades later, she would write openly of dance halls in her poetry.[10]
The final piece of evidence, a message addressed to “Minha querida mãe” (My dear mother) and signed with Francisco’s full name, is written on his calling card, which gives his profession as “Tenente d’Infanteria” (Infantry Lieutenant). The card is crinkled and stained; some words and phrases are almost entirely smudged out. It is an urgent request that Francisco’s mother “venha d’Ervidel hoje ás 3 horas” (come from Ervidel today at three o’clock) to look for one José Masia; she must arrive “com bõa hora” (with all haste), as Francisco is suffering from “inchaço das pernas” (swelling of the legs). Although Francisco is now “sem dinheiro” (penniless), he asks his mother to provide “uns 6000 Rs.” (some six thousand mil-réis) for his family. The last sentence is especially badly stained, but it seems to end with a particular mention of Francisco’s “filha Judith” (daughter Judith).[11] Given the severity of the stain, it seems possible that the letters forming the name “Judith” might have been added or “touched up” before the card was presented in court. Maria certainly objected, for herself and on behalf of Ermengarda, to what she called a “fetiço” (fabrication) on the part of her elder daughter.[12] Whatever the case, the pathos of Francisco’s deathbed scene and the vivid family portrait in the letters were enough for the court, which found in favor of Judith dos Reis Ramos.[13]
One other name in the trial record deserves mention: Jayme Levy Azancot, who served as one of Judith’s witnesses. Son of a Sephardic Jewish family whose name, Azancot, is said to be a Hebraic transcription from the Berber, he too resided at 70 Rua do Arco do Carvalhão.[14] His occupation is given as “empregado no com.o” (employed in business); Judith’s, as “solteira, de vida domestica” (single, of domestic life).[15] On August 3, 1908, almost eight months after Judith’s pilgrimage to the record-keepers of Viseu, Jayme and Judith were married in a civil ceremony at the administrative center in Belém.[16]
Notes
[1] Arquival Distrital de Viseu, Assento 21, cited in Marie Jorge and Luis Manuel Gaspar, “Scriptorium,” in Judith Teixeira, Poemas (Lisbon: Edições Culturais do Subterrâneo, 1996), 227. All translations are mine unless otherwise noted.
[2] Chiara Valsecchi, “Fathers by Law, Fathers by Choice: Paternity and Illegitimacy Between Ancien Régime and Codification in Western Countries,” in Family Law and Society in Europe from the Middle Ages to the Contemporary Era, ed. Maria Gigliola di Renzo Villata (Springer, 2016), 229–55, esp. 231, 237–39.
[3] Arquivo Distrital de Viseu, Registo Paroquial, Assento 33, cited in Jorge and Gaspar, “Scriptorium,” 227–28.
[4] Lisbon, Arquivo Nacional da Torre do Tombo, Tribunal Judicial da Comarca de Lisboa, cível antigo, 5.a Vara, 3.a Secção, proc. 156/1907, mç. 7J, cx. 453, sala 1, corpo 50, Autos civeis d’acção com processo ordinario de D. Judith dos Reis Ramos contra D. Mearia [sic] do Carmo Ramos e D. Ermengarda dos Reis Ramos (PT/TT/JUD/TCLSB02/A/340/02960) (hereafter cited as paternity lawsuit).
[5] Paternity lawsuit, f. 2r.
[6] Paternity lawsuit, f. 2v–3r.
[7] Paternity lawsuit, ff. 5r–v.
[8] Paternity lawsuit, ff. 6r–v.
[9] Paternity lawsuit, ff. 4r–v.
[10] Judith Teixeira, “A Bailarina vermelha,” in Nua: Poemas de Bysâncio escritos que foram, 2nd ed. (Lisbon: J. Rodrigues, 1926), 29–32. Translated as “Scarlet Dancer” by Samantha Pious, in Cactus Flowers, 61–62. See also: Samantha Pious, Translator’s Preface to Judith Teixeira, Cactus Flowers, p. 5; António Laginha and Fabio Mario da Silva, “A presença da dança na revista Europa, de Judith Teixeira, analisada um século depois,” Revista épicas 18 (December 2025): 107–141.
[11] Paternity lawsuit, ff. 7r–v.
[12] Paternity lawsuit, ff. 11r–v.
[13] Paternity lawsuit, f. 10r.
[14] Paternity lawsuit, ff. 3v, 10r–v. On the Azancot family, see José Maria Abecassis, Genealogia hebraica: Portugal e Gibraltar, sécs. XVII a XX, vol. 1 (Lisbon: n.p., 1990), 462–89, esp. 467.
[15] Paternity lawsuit, ff. 2r, 3v.
[16] Lisbon, Arquivo Nacional da Torre do Tombo, Livro de registro de casamentos da Administração do 4.o Bairro de Lisboa (1908–1991) (PT/TT/AC/ACLSB4/002/0002), ff. 12v–13v. (Hereafter cited as Azancot marriage certificate.) Digitized at https://digitarq.arquivos.pt/fileViewer/88343bc0940a46498c357359682e3c79?isRepresentation=false&selectedFile=29439235&fileType=IMAGE.