Heroine from heel to head

"Vivid in wit, gentle in manner, verbose in words, nourished in understanding, agile in imagination, resolute in character, and passionately in love with the ideals that could bring glory to Mexico," is how many passionate historians described Josefa Ortiz Domínguez, also known as the Corregidora and a fundamental national heroine of our Independence.

Josefa, trapped within the four walls, remembered how the meetings she and her husband had organized discussed the latest democratic doctrines, achieving justice for the Indians, and eliminating bad government. Friends, lawyers, intellectuals, military personnel, and landowners had planned to spark the rebellion on October 1, 1810.

Baptized María Josefa de la Natividad Cresencia Ortiz Girón, she was born in Valladolid—now Morelia—on this very day, September 8, in 1788. She was the daughter of Juan José Ortiz and Manuela Girón, Spaniards who had settled in the newly conquered lands (these very same ones, dear reader). At a very young age, she lost them both and fell under the guardianship of her older sister, María Sotero. With her, she moved to the capital of the viceroyalty (now Mexico City) to receive her education.

Precisely at that time, it is not known whether at the Colegio de San Ignacio or when she entered the Vizcaínas boarding school, the exciting story of her life began (according to what we have been told since primary school).

It all began when, on one occasion, the College was decorated for the visit of Miguel Domínguez, a lawyer from Mexico City, a member of the Audiencia (Court), and a senior official of the Supreme Government of New Spain. It is sworn that he fell in love with Josefa upon seeing her and asked permission to visit her more often. Once permission was granted, they soon became engaged, and after many twists and turns of romantic love, they were married on January 23, 1791, in the Metropolitan Tabernacle.

After the wedding, everything went swimmingly: Miguel Domínguez was appointed Corregidor of the city of Santiago de Querétaro by Viceroy Félix Berenguer de Marquina, children began to arrive, and the Ortiz de Domínguez couple moved to live there.

It was in 1802 when Josefa began to identify with the fury provoked by the abuse of the gachupines—Spaniards born in the Iberian Peninsula—toward creoles, mestizos, indigenous people, and the people in general. She rejected the idea that everyone was treated as second-, third-, and even fifth-class citizens simply because they were born in a colony and not in the imperial metropolis.

She and her husband were highly regarded in Querétaro, seeking the city's well-being and treating the population kindly; however, discontent began to grow and spread. By 1808, following the overthrow of King Ferdinand VII of Spain and the Napoleonic Empire's invasion of the Iberian Peninsula, indignation turned to fury, and ideas became polarized in the colonies: some wanted a legitimate king; others, a free government. Josefa belonged to the latter, and given her strong personality and forward-thinking temperament, she decided to participate.

Some rebellious Creoles began to organize themselves into "literary groups" where they spread the ideas of the Enlightenment, which were prohibited by the Catholic Church. The Corregidora joined one of these groups and gradually convinced her husband to participate as well. She did so, and with such good results that the rebellion was planned from her home, and the supposed literary gatherings eventually became a highly cultured, sophisticated, and successful political conspiracy. In other words, Josefa Ortiz's house was the headquarters and address of the struggle for independence.

Josefa had everything under control. She successfully confronted the chaotic agenda of villains and warlords and punctually carried out the insurgency's agenda. The start of the rebellion was planned for October 1, but events unfolded early. The plot had been discovered, and the situation was grave: there were arrests, house searches, and in the González brothers' grocery store, the royalist army had discovered spears and bullets.

On September 14, 1810, Josefa had been locked up by her husband. For safety reasons, he had said. But there was no time. It was necessary to warn Captain Allende. Inform Father Hidalgo of the danger and move quickly.

Josefa reviewed the situation: her husband wasn't there. The door was locked. The windows were barred. Her twelve children were who knows where. And suddenly she remembered. The floor of her bedroom was the ceiling of the fourth bedroom of Mayor Ignacio Pérez, also a sympathizer of the movement. Then she took off her shoe. With the heel, she began to tap quickly, repeatedly, forcefully, and without stopping. The mayor realized the urgency of the call. He entered the house, reached the upper floor, and through the keyhole, Josefa told him to head to San Miguel el Grande without losing a second and inform Captain Allende what was happening in Querétaro. Pérez obeyed. Allende was able to reach the parish of Dolores, and in the early hours of Sunday, September 16, Miguel Hidalgo announced that the fight for independence had begun, with the sound of bells and cries of freedom.

This is how Josefa became a heroine. Everything about her, from the thoughts in her head to the heel of her shoe, was essential for the birth of a new homeland. Ours,