Stuyvesant, storming with rage, cried: "Back to the ramparts! mend the palisades, and we will answer the letter with cannon." [Illustration: TOMB OF STUYVESANT.] The deputies were inflexible, and a fair copy of the letter was made from the pieces, taken to the Statehouse and read to the inhabitants.

At that time the population of New Amsterdam did not exceed fifteen hundred souls.

Outside of the little garrison, there were not over two hundred men capable of bearing arms, and it was the utmost folly to resist.
Nicolls, growing impatient, sent a message to the silent governor saying: "I shall come for your answer to-morrow with ships and soldiers," and anchored two war-vessels between the fort and Governor's Island.
Stuyvesant's proud will would not bend to circumstances, and, from the ramparts of the fort, he saw their preparations for attack, without in the least relenting, and when men, women and children, and even his beloved son Balthazzar, entreated him to surrender, that the lives and property of the citizens might be spared, he replied: "I had much rather be carried out dead." At last, however, when the magistrates, the clergy and many of the principal citizens entreated him, the proud old governor, who had "a heart as big as an ox, and a head that would have set adamant to scorn," consented to capitulate.

He had held out for a week.

On Monday morning, the 8th of September, 1664, he led his troops from the fort to a ship on which they were to embark for Holland, and an hour after, the red cross of St.George was floating over Fort Amsterdam, the name of which was changed to Fort James as a compliment to the Duke.
The remainder of New Netherlands soon passed into the possession of the English, and the city and province were named New York, another compliment to Prince James, afterward James II.