yvesant, with a letter in which was repeated the demand
for a surrender. The two governors met at the gate of the fort.
Stuyvesant read the letter and promptly refused to comply.

"Inform the Englishman if he wants my fort, he must come amid cannon and
balls to take it," he said. Closing the gate, he retired to the council
chamber and laid the letter before his cabinet and magistrates. After
examining it they said:

"Read the letter to the people, and so get their minds."

The governor stoutly refused. The council and magistrates as stoutly
insisted that he should do so, when the enraged governor, who had fairly
earned the title of "Peter the Headstrong," unable to control his
passion, tore the letter into pieces. The people at work on the
palisades, hearing of this, hastened to the Statehouse, where a large
number of citizens were soon gathered. They sent a deputation to the
fort to demand the letter. 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