“Long live the Gueux!” was the toast given and tumultuously drunk by this mad-brained company; and Brederode, setting no bounds to the boisterous excitement which followed, procured immediately, and slung across his shoulders, a wallet such as was worn by pilgrims and beggars; drank to the health of all present, in a wooden cup or porringer; and loudly swore that he was ready to sacrifice his fortune and life for the common cause.  Each man passed round the bowl, which he first put to his lips, repeated the oath, and thus pledged himself to the compact.  The wallet next went the rounds of the whole assembly, and was finally hung upon a nail driven into the wall for the purpose; and gazed on with such enthusiasm as the emblems of political or religious faith, however worthless or absurd, never fail to inspire in the minds of enthusiasts.

The tumult caused by this ceremony, so ridiculous in itself, but so sublime in its results, attracted to the spot the Prince of Orange and Counts Egmont and Horn, whose presence is universally attributed by the historians to accident, but which was probably that kind of chance that leads medical practitioners in our days to the field where a duel is fought.  They entered; and Brederode, who did the honors of the mansion, forced them to be seated, and to join in the festivity.  The following was Egmont’s account of their conduct:  “We drank a single glass of wine each, to shouts of ‘Long live the king!  Long live the Gueux!’ It was the first time I had heard the confederacy so named, and I avow that it displeased me; but the times were so critical that people were obliged to tolerate many things contrary to their inclinations, and I believed myself on this occasion to act with perfect innocence.”  The appearance of three such distinguished personages heightened the general excitement; and the most important assemblage that had for centuries met together in the Netherlands mingled the discussion of affairs of state with all the burlesque extravagance of a debauch.  But this frantic scene did not finish the affair.  What they resolved on while drunk, they prepared to perform when sober.  Rallying signs and watchwords were adopted and soon displayed.  It was thought that nothing better suited the occasion than the immediate adoption of the costume as well as the title of beggary.  In a very few days the city streets were filled with men in gray cloaks, fashioned on the model of those used by mendicants and pilgrims.  Each confederate caused this uniform to be worn by every member of his family, and replaced with it the livery of his servants.  Several fastened to their girdles or their sword-hilts small wooden drinking-cups, clasp-knives, and other symbols of the begging fraternity; while all soon wore on their breasts a medal of gold or silver, representing on one side the effigy of Philip, with the words, “Faithful to the king”; and on the reverse, two hands clasped, with the motto, “Jusqu’ a la besace” (Even to the wallet).  From this origin arose