I learned about foundlings – abandoned newborns – in Italy while tracing my own immigrant ancestor back to the province of Palermo in Sicily. My maiden name is Palumbo, but as I tried to move backwards from my immigrant ancestor, Salvatore Fortunato Palumbo, I discovered that Palumbo was not his original surname. Explaining this discovery in detail is beyond the scope of this blog post, but I have documented evidence that my paternal great-great-grandfather’s name was Salvatore Fortunato Esposito inteso Palumbo. I had no idea where the “Esposito inteso” portion of my surname originated until I located Salvatore’s death certificate, which stated his parents were listed as “parenti ignoti” or “unknown parents”. Then the pieces began to come together. As I continued to investigate further, I learned that the surname “Esposito” was a common surname given to foundlings. It appears that the Palumbo family may have fostered my great-great-grandfather (or perhaps he apprenticed with them), and that is how he obtained the Palumbo surname.
As I’ve researched in Italian records, it is not uncommon to come across abandoned children in Italian civil records. In some cases, children were abandoned because their parents were too poor to care for them, but the majority of abandoned children were the result of illegitimate births. Social and political policies made it difficult for a pregnant, unmarried woman to keep and raise an illegitimate child. Not only did this situation bring shame to her, but also to her family, even to the point of making it difficult for her or her siblings to find suitable marriages.
Foundling wheel at the “Ospedale Santo Spirito” in Rome. Courtesy of Wikipedia.com.
One way to “deal” with these unwanted babies was to leave them on the side of the road, in a remote area, or throw them into the sea. In the 16th and 17th centuries, infanticide was reaching an all-time high and the Catholic church’s concern for the souls of these babies played a large role in the development of foundling homes, which offered another option to unwed mothers. This was not only a phenomenon in Italy but other Catholic countries such as France, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Ireland, and Austria.
The “Foundling Wheel”
In order to allow the anonymity of the mother, and thus keep her and her family from being disgraced, the ruota dei proietti or “foundling wheel” was instituted. The foundling wheel was a wooden, cylindrical box that was installed in the outer wall of a hospital, church, or in smaller communities, a midwife’s home, into which a newborn could be placed.
The wheel was then turned, so that the baby went inside, without anyone being able to see (from the inside) who placed the baby on the wheel. The person leaving the baby then pulled a bell that was near the wheel, notifying the attendant inside that a foundling had arrived.
These attendants, usually midwives, served as “keepers of the wheel,” and had the responsibility of taking the baby to the town hall to have the birth registered, and then to the parish church for its baptism. They also had the responsibility of finding a wet-nurse to feed the baby. As these wet-nurses were given a small compensation for their services, in some instances the mother of the baby would seek to become the baby’s wet-nurse herself, and have the opportunity of bonding with her baby, even if it was anonymously.
Common surnames given to foundlings
Sadly, many abandoned children were given surnames that reflected their disgraced status, and were outcasts in their communities. Eventually it became illegal to give them stigmatic names, at which time their names shifted to descriptions of nature or other less stigmatic names. Some examples of names assigned to abandoned infants are:
Esposito/Esposto = “exposed” or “abandoned”
Innocenti = “innocent one”
Della Casagrande = “of the Ospizio” (Hospice)
Trovato = “found”
Abbandonata = “abandoned”
Proietto/a = a designation meaning “thrown away,” “cast-off”
Names that indicated a physical characteristic, such as Bruno = “dark-skinned, dark haired”
Location names = di Noto, di Palermo
The month of birth = di Gennaio (of January)
Many of these surnames exist to this day, with their bearers having no idea that somewhere in their ancestry there was a foundling child.
Where to find the records of foundlings
Where to locate records of foundlings depends on the town and time period. Some towns recorded the births within the regular birth registers. Other towns separated abandoned baby births from legitimate births and recorded them in supplemental birth registers, or allegati. Because it was standard practice to record the physical description or appearance of the abandoned baby (the approximate age, if it was clean or dirty, what clothing or wrappings it had) and any tokens or segno di reconoscimento that were left with it (jewelry, a torn picture of the Madonna), these births were sometimes recorded in a Parte II after the regular birth register. This allowed more room to discuss the specifics of the child’s abandonment than the pre-printed forms. The reason the specifics of the abandonment were so carefully recorded is because if the mother was able to reclaim her baby in the future, she could identify them by these items. If she left a torn picture, for example, she could match the torn piece to prove her connection to the child.
Often, the child was not born in the town they grew up in or lived in as adults. Those children who survived might have been sent to the country to be raised by wet-nurses in rural areas. They may have been fostered by local families since the towns paid a stipend for the child’s care. These payments were usually made until age 14 for boys when they were apprenticed to learn a trade, and 16 for girls with a small dowry so they could marry. These situations were usually informal and often did not leave paperwork.
The parents of my 2nd great-grandfather remain a mystery to me, but the discovery of his true surname of Esposito has given me an insight to his humble beginnings as a foundling on the island of Sicily. He beat the odds and survived, to which I owe my own existence.
If you have Italian ancestry, a brick wall ancestor you need help getting past, or just questions about the details of your ancestors’ lives, our experts can help. Contact us to discuss which of our project options would be best for you!
Related Posts:
Subscribe for weekly posts
Kim - Legacy Tree Genealogists Project Manager
Latest posts by Kim - Legacy Tree Genealogists Project Manager (see all)
- Stolen Handkerchiefs and Convict Ships: Tracing a Convict Ancestor to Australia - June 13, 2019
- Uncovering the History Behind Surname Origins - August 3, 2018
- Hidden Italian Treasure – Processetti and Allegati Matrimonial Packets - April 6, 2018
As a researcher of Sicilian records, I have come across many abandoned children records. However, I must add to your article regarding the circumstances of my great grandmother. Rosa Caruso, born to Ignazia Caruso, had documents listing her father as Ignoto. Ignazia Caruso raised her daughter as a single woman. She married when her daughter was about five years old, and gave birth to three sons, two of them living to adult ages. After asking around at the Family History Library SLC I came upon an Italian researcher there who commented that the only reason my great grandmother was not given up: the ignoto father gave money to help support the child in return for not naming him on the child’s records. Usually, these types of relationships were between traveling wealthy merchants and young maidens from towns where they visited. Also, it kept the father of the young maiden from revealing the father of the child to the public. It would have hurt the business reputation of the merchant if is were known that he fathered a child(ren) without paying for their existence. I don’t know what kind of life my great grandmother had as a child, but it was clear that she loved her stepfather, as she named her second son after him. And, she did maintain a good relationship with her stepbrothers, too. Unfortunately, she died at the age of 38 while visiting her family in Sicily. She was buried in the town cemetery, and the notation of her burial in the cemetery log books did still mention that her father was Ignoto. Her three youngest children who traveled with her to Sicily from America, were cared for at an orphanage in the town. They were tended to by a cousin of my great grandfather, and were often visited by their grandmother, then an older woman. There photo was taken with her while they were living there. A year after my great grandmother died, my great grandfather sent his brother back to Sicily to get the youngest of the three children (a son), and asked the caring cousin to come to American, also. The cousin married my great grandfather, and they started a family together. The oldest three children of my great grandparents, insisted that their younger siblings be joined together once again. Word was sent to Sicily to retrieve the two girls in the orphanage (being my grandmother and her twin sister). They returned to America with cousins of the family traveling along with several other children from the orphanage being brought to the Midwest. The while family was reunited 3 years after the death of their mother. They now had a new mother, and a few baby siblings.
Stories like this need to be told. They should never fade into the darkness.
Thank you for sharing the story of your ancestors with us, Sharon!
My grandfather, Vincenzo Scolart (later Sculerati) was born in Morcone and abandoned as a newborn. I have found and have a copy of his birth record and the names of the wet nurse and her husband that fostered him. I have done DNA testing on several sites to try to locate relatives. I only have found distant cousins, so far. He emigrated to Princeton, NJ after he married and had a son, and a daughter from his first marriage. They arrived a few years later and eventually had 11 children.
I can not locate anything on my paternal grandmother. Last name Torre.. “My brick wall” I have no idea other than Siderno Marina Provincia Reggio Calabria, Italy, according to one document. But there are conflicting documents , especially in regards to her birth date. I do know about when she arrived here in the states, about 1907 at the age 12-14 with a male guardian, last name was Racco; according to naturalization papers which again had conflicting information where she stated she couldn’t remember anything.
What are the chances that this male guardian was a relative or did orphanages ship children to America?
Shipping orphans to America was not a general practice for Italy. There is a good chance the person accompanying your teenage grandmother was a relative or family friend. Have you been able to locate the ship manifest from the information on the naturalization papers? It should list the person they were going to visit when they arrived in America. This may give you a clue as to the relationship of the man accompanying your grandmother or to your grandmother herself. We would be happy to assist, if you’re interested. You may request a free estimate by completing this form.
I do have the manifest. It appears that the man may have actually been the one she went to live with, not traveled with. Which does not match her naturalization application. That man is not listed anywhere on the application, only listed on the manifest as guardian. She paid for the ticket herself. Nothing is adding up.
Was it common in the late 1800s for foundlings to be legally adopted in Sicily? Was there even such a concept as “legal adoption” as we know it in the U.S. I have the names of the people with whom my two foundling grandparents lived, but those names are different than the “contrived” surnames of my foundling grandparents. Just wondering if they were legally adopted (even though not taking adoptive parent’s name) or just were living with these people.
The priests generally gave foundlings their surnames and the adoptions weren’t necessarily formal. The foundlings were given to families with a mother still nursing (in one example, a foundling went to a family who just lost a two month old, so the mother was still producing milk). It’s not an official adoption, per se, it’s more of a ‘renting out’ of the child. The church would pay a small stipend to the family (as an incentive) for taking care of the child until the child was either placed in an apprenticeship or they were brought back to the orphanage at an older age.
In Italy, whatever surname you were baptized with stuck with you throughout your life. Even if he was cared for and adopted by a family, the surname he was registered and baptized with is on his birth record, so that’s what he was required to go by. In rare situations we’ve found surnames that have changed, and when that happens, the event is noted on the original birth record.
So to answer your question, legally adopting a foundling in Sicily was not a common practice.
Thank you so much, Amber. This helps me a lot. i have found some DNA matches on my great-grandfather, but haven’t figured out if they are through his biological mother or father. There was a story that my great-grandfather was the illegitimate son of the local priest, but who knows, maybe just a myth.