tion could
have been effected by a few gentlemen going to court in fine clothes to
present a petition, and by sitting down to a tremendous banquet
afterwards, Brederode and his associates were the men to accomplish the
task. Unfortunately, a sea of blood and long years of conflict lay
between the nation and the promised land, which for a moment seemed so
nearly within reach.

Meantime the next important step in Brederode's eyes was a dinner. He
accordingly invited the confederates to a magnificent repast which he had
ordered to be prepared in the Culemburg mansion. Three hundred guests sat
down, upon the 8th of April, to this luxurious banquet, which was
destined to become historical.

The board glittered with silver and gold. The wine circulated with more
than its usual rapidity among the band of noble Bacchanals, who were
never weary of drinking the healths of Brederode, of Orange, and of
Egmont. It was thought that the occasion imperiously demanded an
extraordinary carouse, and the political events of the past three days
lent an additional excitement to the wine. There was an earnest
discussion as to an appropriate name to be given to their confederacy.
Should they call themselves the "Society of Concord," the restorers of
lost liberty, or by what other attractive title should the league be
baptized? Brederode was, however, already prepared to settle the
question. He knew the value of a popular and original name; he possessed
the instinct by which adroit partisans in every age have been accustomed
to convert the reproachful epithets of their opponents into watchwords of
honor, and he had already made his preparations for a startling
theatrical effect. Suddenly, amid the din of voices, he arose, with all
his rhetorical powers at command: He recounted to the company the
observations which the Seigneur de Berlaymont was reported to have made
to the Duchess, upon the presentation of the Request, and the name which
he had thought fit to apply to them collectively. Most of the gentlemen
then heard the memorable sarcasm for the first time. Great was the
indignation of all that the state councillor should have dared to
stigmatize as beggars a band of gentlemen with the best blood of the land
in their veins. Brederode, on the contrary, smoothing their anger,
assured them with good humor that nothing could be more fortunate. "They
call us beggars!" said he; "let us accept the name. We will contend with
the inquisition, but r