CHAPTER VII.
Containing a doleful disaster of Anthony the Trumpeter—and
how Peter Stuyresant, like a second
Cromwell, suddenly dissolved a Rump Parliament.
Now did the high-minded Pieter de
Groodt shower down a pannier-load of
maledictions upon his burgomasters for a
set of self-willed, obstinate, headstrong
varlets, who would neither be convinced
nor persuaded; and determined thenceforth
to have nothing more to do with
them, but to consult merely the opinion
of his privy councillors, which he knew
from experience to be the best in the
world—inasmuch as it never differed
from his own. Nor did he omit, now
that his hand was in, to bestow some
thousand left-handed compliments upon
the sovereign people, whom he railed at
for a herd of poltroons, who had no relish
for the glorious hardships and illustrious
misadventures of battle—but would rather
stay at home, and eat and sleep in
ignoble ease, than gain immortality and
a broken head, by valiantly fighting in a
ditch.
Resolutely bent, however, upon defending
his beloved city, in despite even
of itself, he called unto him his trusty
