The “beggars” did not content themselves with the name alone of the time-honored fraternity of Mendicants in which they had enrolled themselves.  Immediately after the Culemburg banquet, a costume for the confederacy was decided upon.

These young gentlemen discarding gold lace and velvet, thought it expedient to array themselves in doublets and hose of ashen grey, with short cloaks of the same color, all of the coarsest materials.  They appeared in this guise in the streets, with common felt hats on their heads, and beggars’ pouches and bowls at their sides.  They caused also medals of lead and copper to be struck, bearing upon one side the head of Philip; upon the reverse, two hands clasped within a wallet, with the motto, “Faithful to the King, even to wearing the beggar’s sack.”  These badges they wore around their necks, or as buttons to their hats.  As a further distinction they shaved their beards close, excepting the moustachios, which were left long and pendent in the Turkish fashion,—­that custom, as it seemed, being an additional characteristic of Mendicants.

Very soon after these events the nobles of the league dispersed from the capital to their various homes.  Brederode rode out of Brussels at the head of a band of cavaliers, who saluted the concourse of applauding spectators with a discharge of their pistols.  Forty-three gentlemen accompanied him to Antwerp, where he halted for a night.  The Duchess had already sent notice to the magistrates of that city of his intended visit, and warned them to have an eye upon his proceedings.  “The great beggar,” as Hoogstraaten called him, conducted himself, however, with as much propriety as could be expected.  Four or five thousand of the inhabitants thronged about the hotel where he had taken up his quarters.  He appeared at a window with his wooden bowl, filled with wine, in his hands, and his wallet at his side.  He assured the multitude that he was ready to die to defend the good people of Antwerp and of all the Netherlands against the edicts and the inquisition.  Meantime he drank their healths, and begged all who accepted the pledge to hold up their hands.  The populace, highly amused, held up and clapped their hands as honest Brederode drained his bowl, and were soon afterwards persuaded to retire in great good humor.

These proceedings were all chronicled and transmitted to Madrid.  It was also both publicly reported and secretly registered, that Brederode had eaten capons and other meat at Antwerp, upon Good Friday, which happened to be the, day of his visit to that city.  He denied the charge, however; with ludicrous vehemence.  “They who have told Madame that we ate meat in Antwerp,” he wrote to Count Louis, “have lied wickedly and miserably, twenty-four feet down in their throats.”  He added that his nephew, Charles Mansfeld, who, notwithstanding the indignant prohibition of his father, had assisted of the presentation of the Request, and was then in his uncle’s company at Antwerp, had ordered a capon, which Brederode had countermanded.  “They told me afterwards,” said he, “that my nephew had broiled a sausage in his chamber.  I suppose that he thought himself in Spain, where they allow themselves such dainties.”