The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1566 part 1 | Page 9

land; but
it was resolved that they should be required to make their appearance
without arms. As to the contemplated flight of the Duchess, it was
urged, with much reason, that such a step would cast disgrace upon the
government, and that it would be a sufficiently precautionary measure
to strengthen the guards at the city gates--not to prevent the entrance of
the petitioners, but to see that they were unaccompanied by an armed
force. It had been decided that Count Brederode should present the
petition to the Duchess at the head of a deputation of about three
hundred gentlemen. The character of the nobleman thus placed
foremost on such an important occasion has been sufficiently made
manifest. He had no qualities whatever but birth and audacity to
recommend him as a leader for a political party. It was to be seen that
other attributes were necessary to make a man useful in such a position,
and the Count's deficiencies soon became lamentably conspicuous. He
was the lineal descendant and representative of the old Sovereign
Counts of Holland. Five hundred years before his birth; his ancestor
Sikko, younger brother of Dirk the Third, had died, leaving two sons,

one of whom was the first Baron of Brederode. A descent of five
centuries in unbroken male succession from the original sovereigns of
Holland, gave him a better genealogical claim to the provinces than any
which Philip of Spain could assert through the usurping house of
Burgundy. In the approaching tumults he hoped for an opportunity of
again asserting the ancient honors of his name. He was a sworn foe to
Spaniards and to "water of the fountain." But a short time previously to
this epoch he had written to Louis of Nassau, then lying ill of a fever,
in order gravely to remonstrate with him on the necessity of
substituting wine for water on all occasions, and it will be seen in the
sequel that the wine-cup was the great instrument on which he relied
for effecting the deliverance of the country. Although "neither bachelor
nor chancellor," as he expressed it, he was supposed to be endowed
with ready eloquence and mother wit. Even these gifts, however, if he
possessed them, were often found wanting on important emergencies.
Of his courage there was no question, but he was not destined to the
death either of a warrior or a martyr. Headlong, noisy, debauched, but
brave, kind-hearted and generous, he was a fitting representative of his
ancestors, the hard-fighting, hard-drinking, crusading, free-booting
sovereigns of Holland and Friesland, and would himself have been
more at home and more useful in the eleventh century than in the
sixteenth.
It was about six o'clock in the evening, on the third day of April (1566),
that the long-expected cavalcade at last entered Brussels. An immense
concourse of citizens of all ranks thronged around the noble
confederates as soon as they made their appearance. They were about
two hundred in number, all on horseback, with pistols in their holsters,
and Brederode, tall, athletic, and martial in his bearing, with handsome
features and fair curling locks upon his shoulders, seemed an
appropriate chieftain for that band of Batavian chivalry.
The procession was greeted with frequent demonstrations of applause
as it wheeled slowly through the city till it reached the mansion of
Orange Nassau. Here Brederode and Count Louis alighted, while the
rest of the company dispersed to different quarters of the town.
"They thought that I should not come to Brussels," said Brederode, as
he dismounted. "Very well, here I am; and perhaps I shall depart in a
different manner." In the Course of the next day, Counts Culemburg

and Van den Berg entered the city with one hundred other cavaliers.
On the morning of the fifth of April, the confederates were assembled
at the Culemburg mansion, which stood on the square called the Sabon,
within a few minutes' walk of the palace. A straight handsome street
led from the house along the summit of the hill, to the splendid
residence of the ancient Dukes of Brabant, then the abode of Duchess
Margaret. At a little before noon, the gentlemen came forth, marching
on foot, two by two, to the number of three hundred. Nearly all were
young, many of them bore the most ancient historical names of their
country, every one was arrayed in magnificent costume. It was
regarded as ominous, that the man who led the procession, Philip de
Bailleul, was lame. The line was closed by Brederode and Count Louis,
who came last, walking arm in arm. An immense crowd was collected
in the square in front of the palace, to welcome the men who were
looked upon as the deliverers of the land from Spanish tyranny, from
the Cardinalists, and from the inquisition. They were received