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• 1 media/Thumb 147.png 2024-11-26T14:57:18-05:00 "At the Haitian General Consulate" 13 Recap of a lavish party at the home of the Haitian Consul-General in Paris plain 2024-12-03T09:52:42-05:00 Translation: Mr. A Gluck, our Consul general in Paris, had the happy idea of offering, last Thursday, on the occasion of his nomination, a banquet for his friends and acquaintances who are still here.
  
  As indicated in the letter of invitation, the train was taken at 3:30 at the St-Lazare station; the rendezvous was a at Louveciennes where the Consul's magnificent residence is found. After about an hour of travel, the destination was reached.
  
  While Mr. Hanche, chancellor of the Haitian Consulate, received the guests and addressed some compliments of welcome to the ladies, they were counted visually: no less than fifty Haitians crossed the waiting room and spread out through the streets of Louveciennes.
  
  It was a true procession, through which, it is our pleasure to confirm, no sentiment other than benevolent curiosity could be read on the faces of the many inhabitants crowding around on all sides.
  
  After fifteen minutes—walking, naturally, with the serene majesty of the archbishops—we arrived at the consular villa. Mr. Gluck received us and introduced to Mrs. Gluck those of us who had not yet had the pleasure of meeting her.
  
  "Consider yourselves at home, Ladies and Gentlemen," our gracious hosts said to us.
  
  We gave ourselves the pleasure of believing it for an instant, and here we were taking possession of the house, some settling into the games room,  some exploring all of the corners of this vast and beautiful property. At one extremity of the central lawn, where several crowns of rare flowers spread out coquettishly, a superb banner deliciously evoked the image of the absent fatherland. Almost facing it, a Haitian flag, subtly blowing in the breeze, completed the scene and intensified the intimate happiness that filled us up.
  
  Won over by this patriotic emotion, some young Parnassians would no doubt have warbled out some Lamartinian improvisations, when a soft murmur informed us that the table was set and dinner was ready—as were our stomachs.
  
   Mr. Alfred Box had excused himself due to illness. We are, by the way, happy to announce that our Resident-Minister in Paris's health is now almost completely recovered.
  
  6:45. We passed into the dining room. There, three sumptuous tables were set, worthy of the hosts and the guests. The banquet was most joyous. We ate, we drank, we chatted—who could do otherwise at a dinner—with a Franco-Haitian spirit. Needless to say the wine flowed generously.
  
  At the traditional champagne, the Haitian Consul rose a toasted to "Général Hyppolite, to the dear old country" that he has "the honour of representing." After him, in succession, Messrs. P.-E. Latortue, Resident-Minister of Haiti in London, St-Armand Blot, Secretary of the Haitian Legation in Paris, Crau, Frédéric Marcelin, President of the Tribunal of Commerce in Port-au-Prince, J.-J. Audain, doyen of the Haitian Press, took the floor to thank the Consul and his charming wife.
  
  At around 8:15, the salons were opened. The people had tea and coffee.
  
  After the hearing of a monologue and a poem, a voice, a whisper (probably the same one that wafted the banner and the flag), murmured: "a meringue!" Immediately, Mr. St-Armand Blot banged out the requested dance on the piano. The master of the house gave the example, and soon numerous graceful couples were swaying and turning in cadence. But suddenly, a glow came in through the window, it grew and illuminated the room, and we looked outside. In the garden, omnicoloured sparklers were burning, and giving a wonderful effect. It was a splendid sight.
  
  But the roman candles crisscrossed the pathways, and the departing song rang out; it was soon 10 o'clock and we could not miss the last train.
  
  We took leave of Mrs. Gluck, who really knows how to throw a reception with the most perfect distinction. Mr. Gluck came back to Paris with us.
  
  This charming soirée, this very select [English in original] gathering, where we were sorry not to see a larger number of our compatriots, set an excellent precedent.
  
  B.S.