“My master asked me,” continues Gyles, “whether I chose to be sold aboard the man-of-war or to the inhabitants? I replied with tears, I should be glad if you would sell me to the English from whom you took me, but if I must be sold to the French, I chose to be sold to the lowest on the river, or nearest inhabitant to the sea, about 25 leagues from the mouth of the river; for I thought that if I were sold to the gentlemen aboard the man-of-war I should never return to the English. * * My master presently went on shore and a few days after all the Indians went up the river. When we came to a house which I had spoken to my master about, he went on shore with me and tarried all night. The master of the house (Louis d’Amours) spoke kindly to me in Indian, for I could not then speak one word of French. Madam also looked pleasant on me and gave me some bread. The next day I was sent six leagues further up the river to another French house. My master and the friar tarried with Monsieur De Chauffours, the gentleman who had entertained us the night before. Not long after father Simon came and said, ‘Now you are one of us, for you are sold to that gentleman by whom you were entertained the other night.’
“I replied, ‘Sold!—to a Frenchman!’ I could say no more, but went into the woods alone and wept till I could scarce see or stand. The word ‘sold,’ and that to a people of that persuasion which my dear mother so much detested and in her last words manifested so great fears of my falling into; the thought almost broke my heart.
“When I had thus given vent to my grief I wiped my eyes, endeavoring to conceal its effects, but father Simon perceiving my eyes swollen, rolled me aside bidding me not to grieve, for the gentleman he said to whom I was sold was of a good humor; that he had formerly bought two captives of the Indians who both went home to Boston. This in some measure revived me; but he added he did not suppose that I would ever incline to go to the English for the French way of worship was much to be preferred. He said also he would pass that way in about ten days, and if I did not like to live with the French better than the Indians he would buy me again.
“On the day following, father Simon and my Indian master went up the river six and thirty leagues to their chief village and I went down the river six leagues with two Frenchmen to my new master. He kindly received me, and in a few days Madam made me an osnaburg shirt and French cap and a coat out of one of my master’s old coats. Then I threw away my greasy blanket and Indian flap; and I never more saw the old friar, the Indian village or my Indian master till about fourteen years after when I saw my old Indian master at Port Royal, and again about twenty-four years since he came from St. John to Fort George to see me where I made him very welcome.
“My French master had a great trade with the Indians, which suited me very well, I being thorough in the language of the tribes at Cape Sable[13] and St. John. I had not lived long with this gentleman before he committed to me the keys of his store, etc., and my whole employment was trading and hunting, in which I acted 61 faithfully for my master and never knowingly wronged him to the value of one farthing. They spoke to me so much in Indian that it was some time before I was perfect in the French tongue.”
It was in the summer of the year 1695 that John Gyles was purchased of the Indians by Louis d’Amours, having been nearly six years in captivity at the Medoctec village. The strong prejudice against the French instilled into his mind by his mother, who was a devout puritan, was soon overcome by the kindness of Marguerite d’Amours.
The goods needed by the Sieur de Chauffours for his trade with the Indians were obtained from the man-of-war which came out annually from France, and Gyles was sometimes sent with the Frenchmen in his master’s employ to the mouth of the river for supplies. On one of these trips, in the early spring time, the party in their frail canoes were caught in a violent storm as they were coming down the Kennebeccasis—having crossed over thither from Long Reach by way of Kingston Creek, the usual route of travel. They were driven on Long Island opposite Rothesay and remained there seven days without food, unable to return by reason of the northeast gale and unable to advance on account of the ice. At the expiration of that time the ice broke up and they were able to proceed, but in so exhausted a state that they could “scarce hear each other speak.” After their arrival at St. John, two of the party very nearly died in consequence of eating too heartily, but Gyles had had such ample experience of fasting in his Indian life that he had learned wisdom, and by careful dieting suffered no evil consequences.
In the month of October, 1696, the quietude of the household at the Jemseg was disturbed by the appearance of the Massachusetts military expedition under Hawthorne and Church.
“We heard of them,” says Gyles, “some time before they came up the river by the guard that Governor Villebon had ordered at the river’s mouth. Monsieur the gentleman whom I lived with was gone to France, and Madam advised with me; she then desired me to nail a paper on the door of our house containing as follows:—
‘I intreat the General of the English not to burn my House or Barn, nor destroy my Cattle. I don’t suppose that such an army comes up this River to destroy a few Inhabitants but for the Fort above us. I have shewn kindness to the English captives as we were capacitated and have bought two Captives of the Indians and sent them to Boston, and have one now with us and he shall go also when a convenient opportunity presents and he desires it.’