LEGEND OF 'NOTRE DAME DU SABLON'
FROM THE TAPESTRY IN THE MUSÉE DU CINQUANTENAIRE, BRUSSELS
It contains portraits of Margaret and her Nephews and Nieces
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After his coronation at Bologna the emperor continued his progress through Trent, Bötzen, Innsbruck, to Augsburg, where he attended the Diet which opened on June the 20th, 1530. There he met Melanchthon and listened to his famous confession, and the long arguments which followed on religious questions. Lutheranism was rapidly spreading in Germany, but the emperor was powerless to prevent it. Charles remained at Augsburg until November 23rd, and then continued his journey towards the Netherlands, where Margaret was anxiously awaiting him; but she and her beloved nephew were destined never to meet again on earth, for when he reached Cologne he received the news of her death.

For some time past Margaret seems to have cherished the hope of retiring to the Convent of the Annunciation which she had founded outside the 'Porte des Anes' at Bruges, and spending the rest of her days there in quiet seclusion. From Malines she wrote to the Mother Superior:—'Ma Mère, ma mie,—I have ordered the bearer of this, whom you know well, to give you news of me, and tell you of my good resolution for some days past, and also inquire how you are, which I hope is as well as you could wish for me. My hope is in the good God and his glorious Mother, who will help and keep you for better things. I have given him (the bearer) a memorandum for you, and the Pater, your good father, which is from my own hand; from this you will learn my intention. I desire that it shall not get talked about ('n'en soit faict grant bruit'), and for good reason, and with this I will end, begging you to recommend me to our good father's prayers, and also to all my good daughters, praying the Creator and His blessed Mother to give His grace to you and also to me.—Your good daughter, Margaret.'

Then follows the memorandum to Estienne, her valet de chambre, concerning what he is to say to the Pater and the Mère Ancille:[148] 'First, that I wish above all to put my religious (community) in such a state that they will never be in great poverty, but will be able to live without begging; and I wish to know ... if more money is needed, and if so, how much, that they may not be stinted; for with God's help I will see to all; and every other thing that they desire, they must let me know, for I intend to make there a good end, with the help of God and our good Mistress, His glorious Mother.

'Amongst other things say to the Mère Ancille, my good mother, that I beg her to make all my good daughters pray for the purpose which I have always told her; for the time approaches, since the emperor is coming, to whom, with God's help, I will render a good account of the charge and government which he has pleased to give me; and this done, I shall give myself up to the will of God and of our good Mistress, begging you, my good Mother, "ma mie," that I may not be forgotten by yours, and always remain your good daughter, Margaret.'

Concerning the death of the Regent of the Netherlands very little is authentically known, but from a MSS. in the archives at Ain, written by an Augustine monk, the following account is found:—'Early on the morning of the 15th of November, before rising, Margaret asked one of her ladies, Magdalen of Rochester, for a glass of water. The maid of honour brought her the drink in a crystal goblet, but in taking it back Magdalen unluckily let it fall near the bed, where it broke in several pieces. She carefully picked up all the fragments she could see, but one piece lay hidden in Margaret's high-heeled embroidered slipper. When the princess got up a few hours later, she put her bare feet into the slippers, and tried to walk towards the fire, but immediately felt a sharp pain in the sole of her left foot. On examination it was found that a piece of broken glass was in the foot; this was at once extracted, but the wound remained, and bled very little. Margaret, who was always plucky, soon thought no more of the accident, and neglected the wound. A few days later, however, her leg became greatly inflamed, and she suffered much pain. At last, on the 22nd, doctors were called in, and a consultation was held. They found that gangrene had already set in, and decided that the only way to save her life was to amputate the foot. The next day, the 23rd, they commissioned M. de Montécute, her almoner and confessor, to break the news to her, and prepare her for the terrible operation. She was naturally much surprised and upset, but with great fortitude consented to undergo the dreadful ordeal. For four days she shut herself up, and would see no one, spending the time in prayer and confession; on the morning of the 27th she received the Sacrament, and on the 28th and 29th she arranged her earthly affairs, and added a codicil to the will she had made in 1508. This codicil did not, however, fundamentally alter her former testament. She left Charles her sole heir, with the exception of a few bequests, such as 'one of her best rings' to his brother Ferdinand, and legacies to her old officers and servants. 'And in order not to abolish the name of the House of Burgundy ... my said lady begs and implores the Lord Emperor to be pleased to keep in his own hands the said county of Burgundy, and its dependencies, as long as he lives, and after his death to leave it to the one of his children or other heirs who may succeed to these countries (the Netherlands), without dividing or separating it.'

'And as a last request of my said lady made to the said Lord Emperor, she begs him for the universal good of Christianity and the safety of his State, to keep, guard, and observe peace and friendship with the Kings of France and England, their realms, countries, and subjects; as she hopes to say to him with her own mouth if it pleases God to spare her life until she can see him.'

On the next day, the 30th, the doctors decided to operate, but before submitting herself to their hands Margaret dictated a last touching letter to Charles, in which she bade him an eternal farewell:—'Monseigneur, the hour has come when I can no longer write to you with my own hand, for I feel so ill, that I doubt not that my life will be short. With my conscience at rest and peace, and resolved to receive all that it may please God to send me, without any regret whatever, excepting the privation of your presence, and not being able to see and speak to you once more before my death, which is partly supplied by this my letter, though I fear that it will be the last that you will receive from me. I have made you my universal and sole heir, recommending you to fulfil the charges in my will. I leave you your countries over here, which, during your absence, I have not only kept as you left them to me at your departure, but have greatly increased them, and restore to you the government of the same, of which I believe to have loyally acquitted myself, in such a way as I hope for divine reward, satisfaction from you, monseigneur, and the goodwill of your subjects; particularly recommending to you peace, especially with the Kings of France and England. And to end, monseigneur, I beg of you for the love you have been pleased to bear this poor body, that you will remember the salvation of the soul, and the recommendation of my poor vassals and servants. Bidding you the last adieu, to whom I pray, monseigneur, to give you prosperity and a long life. From Malines, the last day of November 1530.—Your very humble aunt, Margaret.'

And so having arranged all her earthly affairs Margaret took a tender farewell of her attendants and friends, and placed herself in the physicians' hands, who, hoping to spare her the pain and shock of an operation, gave her a dose of opium, which was so strong that she fell asleep never to wake again. She passed away during the night of the 30th of November 1530 between midnight and one o'clock, in the fiftieth year of her age, and the twenty-third year of her regency.

The Archbishop of Palermo, Jean de Carondelet, and Antoine de Lalaing, Count of Hochstrate, at once sent to Cologne to inform the emperor of the sad news. In their letter they said that the inflammation (gangrene) had spread from the princess's leg to her body (probably from the long delay), and therefore an operation would have been useless. No one, however, seems to have been blamed, and Philip Savoien, her surgeon, was given thirty philippus 'for having treated madame as well as he could, and for having embalmed her body.' As the archbishop and the Count of Hochstrate wrote to the emperor: 'Madame has indeed shown in her end the virtue that was in her, for she died as good a Christian as it seems to us possible to be. She is a great loss, Sire, to your Majesty, and to all your countries over here.'