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 with deafening huzzas and clappings of hands by the assembled populace.  As they entered the council chamber, passing through the great hall, where ten years before the Emperor had given away his crowns, they found the Emperor’s daughter seated in the chair of state, and surrounded by the highest personages of the country.  The emotion of the Duchess was evident, as the procession somewhat abruptly made its appearance; nor was her agitation diminished as she observed among the petitioners many relatives and, retainers of the Orange and Egmont houses, and saw friendly glances of recognition exchanged between them and their chiefs.