An Article in a French Paper ((Jimar's Story))

((The story of Jimar Dupont from his mouth, to French paper. 10 doubloons if you can decipher it! ))

Translated from French:

Slavery to Criminality; Visions of the Future?
-by Charles-Louis de Montesqieu

In my sectional article, “The Spirit of Laws”, I spoke of the natural relationship between climate and human development. As described, men from warmer climates tend to be more hot-tempered. If one were to correlate this to my recent article, “The Slavery Powder Keg; Why France plays with Matches”, one could come to a conclusion that removing these people from their climate of Africa (though insufferably hot, it is also dry) to the much more humid and tropical colonies of Haiti could in fact create a greater tendency for hot-temperament and eventually criminality in the form of Piracy. In my travels of the Caribbean territories, I discovered a man from the sugar cane plantations stolen away to a life of thievery and violence on the Caribbean trade lanes. I have recounted and precisely scribed this, Jimar Dupont’s, story:

“Choo wan’ me ta tell ya da story o’ moi, huh? Well den mistah fancy mahn, buy me dat der bit o’ gin an choo gotta tale, ya?
I be born in da heart o’ Mann-e-ville. Son o’ da cane was I, haha! My mére she was owned to work in da cane, same as de rest o’ me family. Born on a ‘day o’ bad mojo’ says me mother ‘cause on dat day moi papa was hung fahr killin’ de mastah’s goat. Twas already dead b’fahr he be usin it she said, but no matter to dem fils bâtards de cochon French cane lahrds.
So, I be born to cut cane same ‘s da rest. An’ don’ choo be gettin’ ideas dat it be an’ easy task, huh? It ain’! I done been swingin’ dis heah sword fahr a few years now, an’ into some fine tough hide… but don’ ‘tall compare to da swingin’ o’ scythes in da cane!
See na’, I done been a good little cane cuttah, huh. ‘Tween da beatin’, da whippin’, da starvation, an’ de ‘casional hangin’ from a tree, I say I had a bocou happy chile-hood. But it not been all frills an’ lace, no. Da day come an’ go an’ so does da Big Boss Cane Lahd come an’ go… fahr me mére. He been a nasty sart, huh? Like to do nasty tings to da pretty cane chiles. Dey fin’ her da next day, all beaten, raped, an’ tres mort. So… ma people, dey cry an’ dey moan, an’ dey call on loa Baron Samedi [I later discovered this to be the Haitian god of Death, CLM] to bring da voudou to da Big Boss cane lahd.
So now I be all orphan an’ alone an’ twelve in years, huh? Wha’ choo tink I be wantin’? Revenge, ya? Choo believe it beaucoup, mon. But I ain’ gonna touch dat cane lahd, choo see… he be havin’ da voudou put on ‘im an’ I ain’ da sort ta cross dat. So ‘stead I sneak all snake-like, huh, into ‘is house when I got da dark hidin’ me. An’ while he sleep sound an’ guiltless, I take ‘is wife an’ take her to da potato cellar, huh? Den I splay her all quiet an’ quick. Den I sneak into ‘is son’s room an’ splay ‘im all red and filthy ‘bout da room. I leave ‘em both in da parlor all adorned in der own ‘sang’. But I leave ‘im alone. He got da voudou comin’. Next day he wake up an’ see ‘is family all opened up an’ about. Dey say he clutched ‘is heart an’ die dat moment. See? I told choo da Voudou’d get ‘im! Hahahaha!
So I den run off to da coast ta become da fine gentleman o’ da sea I be today. But dat be a different story huh? Wanna hear it, den choo gotta pay in more gin, mistah beau writer mon!”

As you can see, the setting of slavery is now, in such climates, creating an easy forum for criminality as shown by this mister Dupont. The next story he relays brings out the point of………

((To be continued))