Born: 10 February 1585, Spain
Died: 1650
Country most active: Spain, International
Also known as: Katalina Erauso, Antonio de Erauso, Alonso Díaz
The following is excerpted from “Female Warriors: Memorials of Female Valour and Heroism, from the Mythological Ages to the Present Era,” by Ellen C. Clayton (Mrs. Needham), published in 1879 and shared online by Project Gutenberg.
Another Spanish-American heroine was Catalina de Erauso, the “Monja Alferez,” or Nun-Lieutenant. Her life was the most romantic that could be imagined. She has written her own history in pure and classic Spanish, displaying as much literary ability in its composition as, in her warlike career, she had shown heroic valor, mixed with savage cruelty.
She was born in 1592, daughter of a Spanish hidalgo of St. Sebastian, Don Miguel de Erauso, an officer in the royal army, and, after the fashion of those days, was destined for the Church. So, at the early age of four, she was sent to the Dominican convent, the prioress of which was her aunt. Here she remained till her fifteenth year; but during all these years she acquired so inveterate a dislike for the cloister that she contrived to make her escape from the convent, shortly before the day on which she was to take the veil. She hid in a chestnut grove for three days, cut her hair short, made her petticoats into male attire, and then started on her travels.
She passed through various romantic adventures in Spain, acting in the different capacities of page, clerk, and servant. Thus disguised, she joined an expedition to South America, where she became a soldier. At different times she assumed one name or another; but that under which she was best known, and was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, was Alonzo Dias. Under this alias she was the victor in several skirmishes. So clear was her judgment that her opinion was frequently asked by the generals at their councils of war.
During the intervals of military duty, Catalina gambled, drank, robbed, assassinated, cursed and swore, and behaved altogether very like an Alsatian bully. She chose for her associates the most desperate and reprobate characters, and seemed to take a fiendish delight in outdoing them. Sometimes she would pay attentions to a simple girl, and when the wedding-day was fixed she would disappear.
One night, in a gambling-house in Chili, she quarrelled with, and stabbed a gentleman of great importance in the city. The relatives made the place so hot for Catalina, that she was compelled to make her escape across the Andes, into another province. Her lawlessness once brought her under the hands of the hangman; and a reprieve arrived just as, with the noose round her neck, she was about to be launched into eternity. She wandered over every part of Spanish America, taking up, at random, the profession of soldier, sailor, or even lawyer.
The discovery of her sex was brought about by a curious accident. Her violent deeds having again provoked the guardians of the law, she was compelled to fly for refuge for sanctuary to a church at Guámango, in Peru. The bishop, a pious man, tried to convert the young criminal, animadverting on the wicked life the latter had been leading, and exhorting her to repentance. The stubborn heart of Catalina, inured to every kind of reproach and harsh language, was touched by the kindness with which the bishop spoke. For a few moments she maintained a dogged silence; then, falling on her knees and bursting into tears:—
“Father,” she sobbed. “I am a woman!”
She then told the astounded prelate her extraordinary story. He pitied the unhappy young woman, and by his influence she was pardoned and permitted to return to Spain. She arrived at Cadiz in 1624, whither her fame had preceded her. During her journey through Spain and Italy the streets were crowded by wondering spectators. Pope Urban VIII. allowed her to retain her masculine costume for the rest of her days. It is[169] not known in what year she died; according to an old manuscript preserved in a convent at Vera Cruz, she devoted her latter years to trade, and assumed the name of Antonio de Erauso. Her portrait was taken at Seville by Pacheco, a Spanish painter.
The following is excerpted from A Cyclopædia of Female Biography, published 1857 by Groomsbridge and Sons and edited by Henry Gardiner Adams.
ERAUSO, CATALINA DE, The Monja Alferez, or Nun-Lieutenant. More famous women have lived than this, but a more extraordinary one has never been recorded. Her career was one of singular adventure, of wild passions, of unsparing cruelty, of heroic bravery; the few virtues which palliate her vices and savage conduct are such as are found to vindicate the dormant element in the breasts of brigands and pirates. And it is not the least singular circumstance connected with such a history, that it has been written down, detailed, and powerfully described by the heroine herself, in a style wonderfully vigorous, clear, and in pure and classic Spanish.
She was born in the city of Sebastian, in 1585, daughter of Don Miguel de Erauso. At that period, when families were numerous, it was the custom to dispose of the girls by putting them into the church. Such was the destiny of Donna Catalina. At the age of four years she was sent to her aunt, prioress of a convent of Dominicans. She remained there till the age of fifteen. Rebellious fancies had frequently arisen in her mind: she had entered her noviciate, and as the fatal day for her profession approached, her desire for liberty increased. Being sent one day by her aunt into the parlour of that lady for a book, she saw the keys of the convent hanging on a nail. In one moment her resolution was taken; the nuns were all assembled in the choir for the matin service; she begged permission to go to bed, complaining of indisposition; this was granted her. We give the sequel in her own words:—
“I went out of the choir, took a light, went to the cell of my aunt, took scissors, needle and thread, and a little money. I went out of the convent; I found myself in the street, without knowing where to go; that was no matter; all I wanted was liberty. I ran without stopping, till I reached a grove of chesnuts.”
Such was her escape. She remained in that wood three days, subsisting on roots and wild fruits. She made herself male garments out of her petticoats, cut her hair, and started forth in the character of man. After going through various scenes in Spain; meeting her own father in search of her; acting as page, clerk, servant—always adroit, always able to serve herself with expedients—she joined an expedition to the New World. There she entered the army, and distinguished herself by the most daring actions. She adopted different names, at different periods; but the most noted one, that which she bore after being made lieutenant, was Alonzo Dias. She gained several battles. It seems that her sense and judgment in council were not inferior to her redoubtable prowess in the field. In the intervals of her military duty, she connected herself with the most desperate and vicious beings to be met with. Gambling, stabbing, robbing, were her pastimes. A curious caprice, which she diverted herself with not unfrequently, was to gain the affection of some young lady, by every art and assiduity, and when all was ready for the marriage, to disappear. It would be as impossible, as it is undesirable, in this sketch, to detail her numerous homicides and adventures.
On one occasion she was condemned to be hung, and actually taken to the gallows. Even there no feminine tremors discomposed her firmness. The executioner was awkward in placing the cord.
“Put it on right, or let me alone,” said she; “this priest will do it a great deal better than you!”
A pardon arrived in the mean time; for her gallant actions in battle, and real services, produced for her many protectors. She traversed every part of the Spanish countries, and acquitted herself in the most able manner of the duties of a sailor, soldier, and even lawyer; in every field for enterprise she appeared, and always in a distinguished manner; but all her merits as an able man were tarnished by a mad love for rapine, cruelty, gaming, and every vice save one, to which the soldiers of that epoch and country abandoned themselves. It is to be observed that she had carefully guarded the knowledge of her sex from everybody until an exigency occurred, when she disclosed her real condition. Her many deeds of violence provoked pursuit, and at last she was once more reduced to take refuge in a church at Guamango, in Peru; the bishop, a saintly person, considered it his duty to exhort the criminal; his tender and searching admonitions had their effect on the iron-hearted lieutenant. She sank on her knees, and said, “Father, I am a woman!” Then followed a complete confession.
The bishop was excited by this strange story; he pitied the unfortunate young woman, only thirty-five years of age, who, by a dark fatality, had incurred such reprobation; he thought he perceived signs of compunction; these he fostered, and being encouraged by the result, obtained her pardon, and even a permission to return to Spain, without dread of ecclesiastical punishment. One cause of hope for her remained, she had preserved her chastity; and thus, though stained with many crimes, she was not abandoned to vice. Her will was strong, and her passions often violent; but she was not sensual or selfish. Had she been properly educated, and allowed to live in society, she would probably have proved a woman of superior powers of mind, and been active in good works as she was in evil, when driven to abandon her country, and put off the semblance of her own sex.
Donna Catalina set sail and arrived at Cadiz in 1624. Already her fame had preceded her, and during her travels through Spain and Italy she was looked upon as an object of curiosity. The Pope, Urban the Eighth, gave her permission to retain for life her male attire. The period of her death is unknown; but some documents which have been preserved in a convent at Vera Cruz, testify that she devoted the remainder of her life to commerce, under the name of Antonio de Erauso. The celebrated Spanish painter, Pacheco, took her portrait from life, when she was at Seville, which is still preserved.
IW note: Infinite Women respects transgender identity; however, given the many reasons cisgender women have historically had for presenting as male, it is difficult to determine how an individual may have personally identified. As such, we acknowledge the likelihood that de Erauso may have identified as a transgender man (rather than a lesbian), but choose not to exclude them without proof thereof.