In the Comunero leader’s dauntless wife, Maria de Pacheco, liberty found a new champion and Spain a new heroine. “She was found praying at the foot of the Cross,” says Miss Lynch, “when her servants brought her the news of Padilla’s defeat and death. She rose, robed herself in black, and walked to the Alcazar between her husband’s lieutenants, Dávalos and Acuña, who bore a standard representing Padilla’s execution. They named her captain of the insurgents, and found her implacable and violent, but still a sovereign commander.” For sixteen months under this Castilian Joan of Arc the old city of the Visigoths held out against the armies of Charles V. Routed in a bloody sortie on October 16, 1521, by Zuñiga, prior of San Juan, the Comuneros were obliged, ten days later, to abandon the gates to the besiegers. A truce was agreed to, while the demands of the citizens should be presented to the Emperor. Maria remained in her own house, as in a fortress, guarded by her faithful troops. But on February 3 the murder of a citizen brought on a renewal of the conflict. Desperate battle waged in every street and lane. Maria, assailed and valiantly defended in her stronghold, at last cut her way through, and retired to Portugal, dying at Oporto years afterwards. The townsmen were worsted, and sullenly submitted. Toledo had fought her last fight. Her day was over. Charles V. forgave her, and would come at times to live in the Alcazar. She was still the capital of Spain. But her haughty temper and the arrogance of her clergy matched ill with the policy of Philip II. In 1560 Madrid--upstart, provincial Madrid--was proclaimed the _única corte_. Less important than under the Khalifate, Toledo became a mere provincial town. But the Church did not desert her. She is still the metropolitan see of Spain. Let us see what the monarchs of United Spain did for the old city, and what monuments remain of the days when it was Court and capital.