finished_summaries/shmoop/The Red and the Black/section_17_part_0.txt
The Red and the Black.part 1.chapter 18
part 1, chapter 18
{"name": "Part 1, Chapter 18", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20200920104425/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/red-and-the-black/summary/part-1-chapter-18", "summary": "Word spreads through Verrieres that a foreign king is going to visit the city in a week. The town decides to assemble a group of its best and brightest to be the king's official \"Honor Guard.\" The mayor chooses a political ally to be the leader of the guard, even though the man can't ride a horse properly. Decorators start pouring into the de Renal house in preparation to host the king. Julien is sad to see that Madame de Renal becomes too obsessed with decorating to think about their affair. The mayor has to crawl back to Father Chelan to ask him to participate in the visit. He does this because Chelan has a powerful friend in Paris named Marquis de La Mole who will redirect the king's visit to Father Chelan's house if the mayor doesn't include the old priest. When the day of the king's visit arrives, peasants pour into Verrieres from the surrounding mountains. When the Honor Guard rides through town, people are outraged to see Julien Sorel, a carpenter's son, riding among them. He's just a peasant, and there are lots of qualified high society folks who didn't make it into the Honor Guard. This was the mayor's decision, though. Julien feels like a hero in Napoleon's army as he rides around on his horse. The king's parade reaches a church where the king wishes to visit a holy statue. Julien runs inside, throws on some priestly robes, and joins Father Chelan in welcoming the man. The bishop is late in entering the church, so Julien zigzags through a bunch of doorways until he finds the dude. The reason the guy is so late is because he's really young and doesn't quite know what he's supposed to say at the religious ceremony he's about to lead. Julien is impressed by the authority wielded by the bishop at such a young age. He starts thinking about joining the clergy again instead of the military. Julien follows the king's procession into an inner chapel, where a statue of Saint Clement is housed. That night, the Marquis de La Mole distributes ten thousand bottles of wine among the peasants of the area to mark the festivities.", "analysis": ""}
CHAPTER XVIII

A KING AT VERRIERES


    Do you not deserve to be thrown aside like a plebeian
    corpse which has no soul and whose blood flows no
    longer in its veins.
                   _Sermon of the Bishop at the Chapel of Saint Clement_.


On the 3rd of September at ten o'clock in the evening, a gendarme woke
up the whole of Verrieres by galloping up the main street. He brought
the news that His Majesty the King of ---- would arrive the following
Sunday, and it was already Tuesday. The prefect authorised, that is to
say, demanded the forming of a guard of honour. They were to exhibit
all possible pomp. An express messenger was sent to Vergy. M. de Renal
arrived during the night and found the town in a commotion. Each
individual had his own pretensions; those who were less busy hired
balconies to see the King.

Who was to command the Guard of Honour? M. de Renal at once realised
how essential it was in the interests of the houses liable to have
their frontage put back that M. de Moirod should have the command.
That might entitle him to the post of first deputy-mayor. There was
nothing to say against the devoutness of M. de Moirod. It brooked
no comparison, but he had never sat on a horse. He was a man of
thirty-six, timid in every way, and equally frightened of falling and
of looking ridiculous. The mayor had summoned him as early as five
o'clock in the morning.

"You see, monsieur, I ask your advice, as though you already occupy
that post to which all the people on the right side want to carry you.
In this unhappy town, manufacturers are prospering, the Liberal party
is becoming possessed of millions, it aspires to power; it will manage
to exploit everything to its own ends. Let us consult the interests of
the king, the interest of the monarchy, and above all, the interest of
our holy religion. Who do you think, monsieur, could be entrusted with
the command of the guard of honour?"

In spite of the terrible fear with which horses inspired him, M. de
Moirod finished by accepting this honour like a martyr. "I shall know
how to take the right tone," he said to the mayor. There was scarcely
time enough to get ready the uniforms which had served seven years ago
on the occasion of the passage of a prince of the blood.

At seven o'clock, Madame de Renal arrived at Vergy with Julien and
the children. She found her drawing room filled with Liberal ladies
who preached the union of all parties and had come to beg her to urge
her husband to grant a place to theirs in the guard of honour. One of
them actually asserted that if her husband was not chosen he would go
bankrupt out of chagrin. Madame de Renal quickly got rid of all these
people. She seemed very engrossed.

Julien was astonished, and what was more, angry that she should make
a mystery of what was disturbing her, "I had anticipated it," he said
bitterly to himself. "Her love is being over-shadowed by the happiness
of receiving a King in her house. All this hubbub overcomes her. She
will love me once more when the ideas of her caste no longer trouble
her brain."

An astonishing fact, he only loved her the more.

The decorators began to fill the house. He watched a long time for the
opportunity to exchange a few words. He eventually found her as she was
coming out of his own room, carrying one of his suits. They were alone.
He tried to speak to her. She ran away, refusing to listen to him. "I
am an absolute fool to love a woman like that, whose ambition renders
her as mad as her husband."

She was madder. One of her great wishes which she had never confessed
to Julien for fear of shocking him, was to see him leave off, if only
for one day, his gloomy black suit. With an adroitness which was truly
admirable in so ingenuous a woman, she secured first from M. de Moirod,
and subsequently, from M. the sub-perfect de Maugiron, an assurance
that Julien should be nominated a guard of honour in preference to five
or six young people, the sons of very well-off manufacturers, of whom
two at least, were models of piety. M. de Valenod, who reckoned on
lending his carriage to the prettiest women in the town, and on showing
off his fine Norman steeds, consented to let Julien (the being he hated
most in the whole world) have one of his horses. But all the guards of
honour, either possessed or had borrowed, one of those pretty sky-blue
uniforms, with two silver colonel epaulettes, which had shone seven
years ago. Madame de Renal wanted a new uniform, and she only had four
days in which to send to Besancon and get from there the uniform, the
arms, the hat, etc., everything necessary for a Guard of Honour. The
most delightful part of it was that she thought it imprudent to get
Julien's uniform made at Verrieres. She wanted to surprise both him and
the town.

Having settled the questions of the guards of honour, and of the public
welcome finished, the mayor had now to organise a great religious
ceremony. The King of ---- did not wish to pass through Verrieres
without visiting the famous relic of St. Clement, which is kept at
Bray-le-Haut barely a league from the town. The authorities wanted
to have a numerous attendance of the clergy, but this matter was the
most difficult to arrange. M. Maslon, the new cure, wanted to avoid at
any price the presence of M. Chelan. It was in vain that M. de Renal
tried to represent to him that it would be imprudent to do so. M. the
Marquis de La Mole whose ancestors had been governors of the province
for so many generations, had been chosen to accompany the King of ----.
He had known the abbe Chelan for thirty years. He would certainly ask
news of him when he arrived at Verrieres, and if he found him disgraced
he was the very man to go and route him out in the little house to
which he had retired, accompanied by all the escort that he had at his
disposition. What a rebuff that would be?

"I shall be disgraced both here and at Besancon," answered the abbe
Maslon, "if he appears among my clergy. A Jansenist, by the Lord."

"Whatever you can say, my dear abbe," replied M. de Renal, "I'll never
expose the administration of Verrieres to receiving such an affront
from M. de la Mole. You do not know him. He is orthodox enough at
Court, but here in the provinces, he is a satirical wit and cynic,
whose only object is to make people uncomfortable. He is capable of
covering us with ridicule in the eyes of the Liberals, simply in order
to amuse himself."

It was only on the night between the Saturday and the Sunday, after
three whole days of negotiations that the pride of the abbe Maslon bent
before the fear of the mayor, which was now changing into courage. It
was necessary to write a honeyed letter to the abbe Chelan, begging
him to be present at the ceremony in connection with the relic of
Bray-le-Haut, if of course, his great age and his infirmity allowed him
to do so. M. Chelan asked for and obtained a letter of invitation for
Julien, who was to accompany him as his sub-deacon.

From the beginning of the Sunday morning, thousands of peasants began
to arrive from the neighbouring mountains, and to inundate the streets
of Verrieres. It was the finest sunshine. Finally, about three o'clock,
a thrill swept through all this crowd. A great fire had been perceived
on a rock two leagues from Verrieres. This signal announced that the
king had just entered the territory of the department. At the same
time, the sound of all the bells and the repeated volleys from an old
Spanish cannon which belonged to the town, testified to its joy at
this great event. Half the population climbed on to the roofs. All the
women were on the balconies. The guard of honour started to march, The
brilliant uniforms were universally admired; everybody recognised a
relative or a friend. They made fun of the timidity of M. de Moirod,
whose prudent hand was ready every single minute to catch hold of his
saddle-bow. But one remark resulted in all the others being forgotten;
the first cavalier in the ninth line was a very pretty, slim boy, who
was not recognised at first. He soon created a general sensation, as
some uttered a cry of indignation, and others were dumbfounded with
astonishment. They recognised in this young man, who was sitting one
of the Norman horses of M. Valenod, little Sorel, the carpenter's son.
There was a unanimous out-cry against the mayor, above all on the part
of the Liberals. What, because this little labourer, who masqueraded as
an abbe, was tutor to his brats, he had the audacity to nominate him
guard of honour to the prejudice of rich manufacturers like so-and-so
and so-and-so! "Those gentlemen," said a banker's wife, "ought to put
that insolent gutter-boy in his proper place."

"He is cunning and carries a sabre," answered her neighbour. "He would
be dastardly enough to slash them in the face."

The conversation of aristocratic society was more dangerous. The ladies
began to ask each other if the mayor alone was responsible for this
grave impropriety. Speaking generally, they did justice to his contempt
for lack of birth.

Julien was the happiest of men, while he was the subject of so much
conversation. Bold by nature, he sat a horse better than the majority
of the young men of this mountain town. He saw that, in the eyes of the
women, he was the topic of interest.

His epaulettes were more brilliant than those of the others, because
they were new. His horse pranced at every moment. He reached the zenith
of joy.

His happiness was unbounded when, as they passed by the old rampart,
the noise of the little cannon made his horse prance outside the line.
By a great piece of luck he did not fall; from that moment he felt
himself a hero. He was one of Napoleon's officers of artillery, and was
charging a battery.

One person was happier than he. She had first seen him pass from one
of the folding windows in the Hotel de Ville. Then taking her carriage
and rapidly making a long detour, she arrived in time to shudder when
his horse took him outside the line. Finally she put her carriage to
the gallop, left by another gate of the town, succeeded in rejoining
the route by which the King was to pass, and was able to follow the
Guard of Honour at twenty paces distance in the midst of a noble dust.
Six thousand peasants cried "Long live the King," when the mayor had
the honour to harangue his Majesty. An hour afterwards, when all the
speeches had been listened to, and the King was going to enter the
town, the little cannon began again to discharge its spasmodic volleys.
But an accident ensued, the victim being, not one of the cannoneers who
had proved their mettle at Leipsic and at Montreuil, but the future
deputy-mayor, M. de Moirod. His horse gently laid him in the one heap
of mud on the high road, a somewhat scandalous circumstance, inasmuch
as it was necessary to extricate him to allow the King to pass. His
Majesty alighted at the fine new church, which was decked out to-day
with all its crimson curtains. The King was due to dine, and then
afterwards take his carriage again and go and pay his respects to the
celebrated relic of Saint Clement. Scarcely was the King in the church
than Julien galloped towards the house of M. de Renal. Once there
he doffed with a sigh his fine sky-blue uniform, his sabre and his
epaulettes, to put on again his shabby little black suit. He mounted
his horse again, and in a few moments was at Bray-le-Haut, which was
on the summit of a very pretty hill. "Enthusiasm is responsible for
these numbers of peasants," thought Julien. It was impossible to move
a step at Verrieres, and here there were more than ten thousand round
this ancient abbey. Half ruined by the vandalism of the Revolution,
it had been magnificently restored since the Restoration, and people
were already beginning to talk of miracles. Julien rejoined the abbe
Chelan, who scolded him roundly and gave him a cassock and a surplice.
He dressed quickly and followed M. Chelan, who was going to pay a call
on the young bishop of Agde. He was a nephew of M. de la Mole, who had
been recently nominated, and had been charged with the duty of showing
the relic to the King. But the bishop was not to be found.

The clergy began to get impatient. It was awaiting its chief in the
sombre Gothic cloister of the ancient abbey. Twenty-four cures had
been brought together so as to represent the ancient chapter of
Bray-le-Haut, which before 1789 consisted of twenty-four canons. The
cures, having deplored the bishop's youth for three-quarters of an
hour, thought it fitting for their senior to visit Monseigneur to
apprise him that the King was on the point of arriving, and that it was
time to betake himself to the choir. The great age of M. Chelan gave
him the seniority. In spite of the bad temper which he was manifesting
to Julien, he signed him to follow. Julien was wearing his surplice
with distinction. By means of some trick or other of ecclesiastical
dress, he had made his fine curling hair very flat, but by a
forgetfulness, which redoubled the anger of M. Chelan, the spurs of the
Guard of Honour could be seen below the long folds of his cassock.

When they arrived at the bishop's apartment, the tall lackeys with
their lace-frills scarcely deigned to answer the old cure to the effect
that Monseigneur was not receiving. They made fun of him when he tried
to explain that in his capacity of senior member of the chapter of
Bray-le-Haut, he had the privilege of being admitted at any time to the
officiating bishop.

Julien's haughty temper was shocked by the lackeys' insolence. He
started to traverse the corridors of the ancient abbey, and to shake
all the doors which he found. A very small one yielded to his efforts,
and he found himself in a cell in the midst of Monseigneur's valets,
who were dressed in black suits with chains on their necks. His hurried
manner made these gentlemen think that he had been sent by the bishop,
and they let him pass. He went some steps further on, and found himself
in an immense Gothic hall, which was extremely dark, and completely
wainscotted in black oak. The ogive windows had all been walled in
with brick except one. There was nothing to disguise the coarseness
of this masonry, which offered a melancholy contrast to the ancient
magnificence of the woodwork. The two great sides of this hall, so
celebrated among Burgundian antiquaries, and built by the Duke, Charles
the Bold, about 1470 in expiation of some sin, were adorned with richly
sculptured wooden stalls. All the mysteries of the Apocalypse were to
be seen portrayed in wood of different colours.

This melancholy magnificence, debased as it was by the sight of the
bare bricks and the plaster (which was still quite white) affected
Julien. He stopped in silence. He saw at the other extremity of the
hall, near the one window which let in the daylight, a movable mahogany
mirror. A young man in a violet robe and a lace surplice, but with his
head bare, was standing still three paces from the glass. This piece
of furniture seemed strange in a place like this, and had doubtless
been only brought there on the previous day. Julien thought that the
young man had the appearance of being irritated. He was solemnly giving
benedictions with his right hand close to the mirror.

"What can this mean," he thought. "Is this young priest performing some
preliminary ceremony? Perhaps he is the bishop's secretary. He will be
as insolent as the lackeys. Never mind though! Let us try." He advanced
and traversed somewhat slowly the length of the hall, with his gaze
fixed all the time on the one window, and looking at the young man who
continued without any intermission bestowing slowly an infinite number
of blessings.

The nearer he approached the better he could distinguish his angry
manner. The richness of the lace surplice stopped Julien in spite of
himself some paces in front of the mirror. "It is my duty to speak," he
said to himself at last. But the beauty of the hall had moved him, and
he was already upset by the harsh words he anticipated.

The young man saw him in the mirror, turned round, and suddenly
discarding his angry manner, said to him in the gentlest tone,

"Well, Monsieur, has it been arranged at last?"

Julien was dumbfounded. As the young man began to turn towards him,
Julien saw the pectoral cross on his breast. It was the bishop of Agde.
"As young as that," thought Julien. "At most six or eight years older
than I am!"

He was ashamed of his spurs.

"Monseigneur," he said at last, "I am sent by M. Chelan, the senior of
the chapter."

"Ah, he has been well recommended to me," said the bishop in a polished
tone which doubled Julien's delight, "But I beg your pardon, Monsieur,
I mistook you for the person who was to bring me my mitre. It was badly
packed at Paris. The silver cloth towards the top has been terribly
spoiled. It will look awful," ended the young bishop sadly, "And
besides, I am being kept waiting."

"Monseigneur, I will go and fetch the mitre if your grace will let me."

Julien's fine eyes did their work.

"Go, Monsieur," answered the bishop, with charming politeness. "I need
it immediately. I am grieved to keep the gentlemen of the chapter
waiting."

When Julien reached the centre of the hall, he turned round towards the
bishop, and saw that he had again commenced giving benedictions.

"What can it be?" Julien asked himself. "No doubt it is a necessary
ecclesiastical preliminary for the ceremony which is to take place."
When he reached the cell in which the valets were congregated, he
saw the mitre in their hands. These gentlemen succumbed in spite of
themselves to his imperious look, and gave him Monseigneur's mitre.

He felt proud to carry it. As he crossed the hall he walked slowly. He
held it with reverence. He found the bishop seated before the glass,
but from time to time, his right hand, although fatigued, still gave a
blessing. Julien helped him to adjust his mitre. The bishop shook his
head.

"Ah! it will keep on," he said to Julien with an air of satisfaction.
"Do you mind going a little way off?"

Then the bishop went very quickly to the centre of the room, then
approached the mirror, again resumed his angry manner, and gravely
began to give blessings.

Julien was motionless with astonishment. He was tempted to understand,
but did not dare. The bishop stopped, and suddenly abandoning his grave
manner looked at him and said:

"What do you think of my mitre, monsieur, is it on right?"

"Quite right, Monseigneur."

"It is not too far back? That would look a little silly, but I mustn't
on the other hand wear it down over the eyes like an officer's shako."

"It seems to me to be on quite right."

"The King of ---- is accustomed to a venerable clergy who are doubtless
very solemn. I should not like to appear lacking in dignity, especially
by reason of my youth."

And the bishop started again to walk about and give benedictions.

"It is quite clear," said Julien, daring to understand at last, "He is
practising giving his benediction."

"I am ready," the bishop said after a few moments. "Go, Monsieur, and
advise the senior and the gentlemen of the chapter."

Soon M. Chelan, followed by the two oldest cures, entered by a big
magnificently sculptured door, which Julien had not previously noticed.
But this time he remained in his place quite at the back, and was only
able to see the bishop over the shoulders of ecclesiastics who were
pressing at the door in crowds.

The bishop began slowly to traverse the hall. When he reached the
threshold, the cures formed themselves into a procession. After a short
moment of confusion, the procession began to march intoning the psalm.
The bishop, who was between M. Chelan and a very old cure, was the last
to advance. Julien being in attendance on the abbe Chelan managed to
get quite near Monseigneur. They followed the long corridors of the
abbey of Bray-le-Haut. In spite of the brilliant sun they were dark and
damp. They arrived finally at the portico of the cloister. Julien was
dumbfounded with admiration for so fine a ceremony. His emotions were
divided between thoughts of his own ambition which had been reawakened
by the bishop's youth and thoughts of the latter's refinement and
exquisite politeness. This politeness was quite different to that of M.
de Renal, even on his good days. "The higher you lift yourself towards
the first rank of society," said Julien to himself, "the more charming
manners you find."

They entered the church by a side door; suddenly an awful noise made
the ancient walls echo. Julien thought they were going to crumble. It
was the little piece of artillery again. It had been drawn at a gallop
by eight horses and had just arrived. Immediately on its arrival it had
been run out by the Leipsic cannoneers and fired five shots a minute as
though the Prussians had been the target.

But this admirable noise no longer produced any effect on Julien. He no
longer thought of Napoleon and military glory. "To be bishop of Agde so
young," he thought. "But where is Agde? How much does it bring in? Two
or three hundred thousand francs, perhaps."

Monseigneur's lackeys appeared with a magnificent canopy. M. Chelan
took one of the poles, but as a matter of fact it was Julien who
carried it. The bishop took his place underneath. He had really
succeeded in looking old; and our hero's admiration was now quite
unbounded. "What can't one accomplish with skill," he thought.

The king entered. Julien had the good fortune to see him at close
quarters. The bishop began to harangue him with unction, without
forgetting a little nuance of very polite anxiety for his Majesty.
We will not repeat a description of the ceremony of Bray-le-Haut.
They filled all the columns of the journals of the department for a
fortnight on end. Julien learnt from the bishop that the king was
descended from Charles the Bold.

At a later date, it was one of Julien's duties to check the accounts
of the cost of this ceremony. M. de la Mole, who had succeeded in
procuring a bishopric for his nephew, had wished to do him the favour
of being himself responsible for all the expenses. The ceremony alone
of Bray-le-Haute cost three thousand eight hundred francs.

After the speech of the bishop, and the answer of the king, his
Majesty took up a position underneath the canopy, and then knelt very
devoutly on a cushion near the altar. The choir was surrounded by
stalls, and the stalls were raised two steps from the pavement. It
was at the bottom of these steps that Julien sat at the feet of M.
de Chelan almost like a train-bearer sitting next to his cardinal in
the Sixtine chapel at Rome. There was a _Te Deum_, floods of incense,
innumerable volleys of musketry and artillery; the peasants were drunk
with happiness and piety. A day like this undoes the work of a hundred
numbers of the Jacobin papers.

Julien was six paces from the king, who was really praying with
devotion. He noticed for the first time a little man with a witty
expression, who wore an almost plain suit. But he had a sky-blue ribbon
over this very simple suit. He was nearer the king than many other
lords, whose clothes were embroidered with gold to such an extent that,
to use Julien's expression, it was impossible to see the cloth. He
learnt some minutes later that it was Monsieur de la Mole. He thought
he looked haughty, and even insolent.

"I'm sure this marquis is not so polite as my pretty bishop," he
thought. "Ah, the ecclesiastical calling makes men mild and good. But
the king has come to venerate the relic, and I don't see a trace of the
relic. Where has Saint Clement got to?"

A little priest who sat next to him informed him that the venerable
relic was at the top of the building in a _chapelle ardente_.

"What is a _chapelle ardente_," said Julien to himself.

But he was reluctant to ask the meaning of this word. He redoubled his
attention.

The etiquette on the occasion of a visit of a sovereign prince is
that the canons do not accompany the bishop. But, as he started on
his march to the _chapelle ardente_, my lord bishop of Agde called
the abbe Chelan. Julien dared to follow him. Having climbed up a long
staircase, they reached an extremely small door whose Gothic frame
was magnificently gilded. This work looked as though it had been
constructed the day before.

Twenty-four young girls belonging to the most distinguished families in
Verrieres were assembled in front of the door. The bishop knelt down
in the midst of these pretty maidens before he opened the door. While
he was praying aloud, they seemed unable to exhaust their admiration
for his fine lace, his gracious mien, and his young and gentle face.
This spectacle deprived our hero of his last remnants of reason. At
this moment he would have fought for the Inquisition, and with a good
conscience. The door suddenly opened. The little chapel was blazing
with light. More than a thousand candles could be seen before the
altar, divided into eight lines and separated from each other by
bouquets of flowers. The suave odour of the purest incense eddied
out from the door of the sanctuary. The chapel, which had been newly
gilded, was extremely small but very high. Julien noticed that there
were candles more than fifteen feet high upon the altar. The young
girls could not restrain a cry of admiration. Only the twenty-four
young girls, the two cures and Julien had been admitted into the little
vestibule of the chapel. Soon the king arrived, followed by Monsieur
de la Mole and his great Chamberlain. The guards themselves remained
outside kneeling and presenting arms.

His Majesty precipitated, rather than threw himself, on to the stool.
It was only then that Julien, who was keeping close to the gilded
door, perceived over the bare arm of a young girl, the charming statue
of St. Clement. It was hidden under the altar, and bore the dress of
a young Roman soldier. It had a large wound on its neck, from which
the blood seemed to flow. The artist had surpassed himself. The eyes,
which though dying were full of grace, were half closed. A budding
moustache adored that charming mouth which, though half closed, seemed
notwithstanding to be praying. The young girl next to Julien wept warm
tears at the sight. One of her tears fell on Julien's hand.

After a moment of prayer in the profoundest silence, that was only
broken by the distant sound of the bells of all the villages within a
radius of ten leagues, the bishop of Agde asked the king's permission
to speak. He finished a short but very touching speech with a passage,
the very simplicity of which assured its effectiveness:

"Never forget, young Christian women, that you have seen one of the
greatest kings of the world on his knees before the servants of
this Almighty and terrible God. These servants, feeble, persecuted,
assassinated as they were on earth, as you can see by the still
bleeding wounds of Saint Clement, will triumph in Heaven. You will
remember them, my young Christian women, will you not, this day for
ever, and will detest the infidel. You will be for ever faithful to
this God who is so great, so terrible, but so good?"

With these words the bishop rose authoritatively.

"You promise me?" he said, lifting up his arm with an inspired air.

"We promise," said the young girls melting into tears.

"I accept your promise in the name of the terrible God," added the
bishop in a thunderous voice, and the ceremony was at an end.

The king himself was crying. It was only a long time afterwards that
Julien had sufficient self-possession to enquire "where were the bones
of the Saint that had been sent from Rome to Philip the Good, Duke of
Burgundy?" He was told that they were hidden in the charming waxen
figure.

His Majesty deigned to allow the young ladies who had accompanied him
into the chapel to wear a red ribbon on which were embroidered these
words, "HATE OF THE INFIDEL. PERPETUAL ADORATION."

Monsieur de la Mole had ten thousand bottles of wine distributed among
the peasants. In the evening at Verrieres, the Liberals made a point of
having illuminations which were a hundred times better than those of
the Royalists. Before leaving, the king paid a visit to M. de Moirod.






Part 1, Chapter 18
Word spreads through Verrieres that a foreign king is going to visit the city in a week. The town decides to assemble a group of its best and brightest to be the king's official "Honor Guard." The mayor chooses a political ally to be the leader of the guard, even though the man can't ride a horse properly. Decorators start pouring into the de Renal house in preparation to host the king. Julien is sad to see that Madame de Renal becomes too obsessed with decorating to think about their affair. The mayor has to crawl back to Father Chelan to ask him to participate in the visit. He does this because Chelan has a powerful friend in Paris named Marquis de La Mole who will redirect the king's visit to Father Chelan's house if the mayor doesn't include the old priest. When the day of the king's visit arrives, peasants pour into Verrieres from the surrounding mountains. When the Honor Guard rides through town, people are outraged to see Julien Sorel, a carpenter's son, riding among them. He's just a peasant, and there are lots of qualified high society folks who didn't make it into the Honor Guard. This was the mayor's decision, though. Julien feels like a hero in Napoleon's army as he rides around on his horse. The king's parade reaches a church where the king wishes to visit a holy statue. Julien runs inside, throws on some priestly robes, and joins Father Chelan in welcoming the man. The bishop is late in entering the church, so Julien zigzags through a bunch of doorways until he finds the dude. The reason the guy is so late is because he's really young and doesn't quite know what he's supposed to say at the religious ceremony he's about to lead. Julien is impressed by the authority wielded by the bishop at such a young age. He starts thinking about joining the clergy again instead of the military. Julien follows the king's procession into an inner chapel, where a statue of Saint Clement is housed. That night, the Marquis de La Mole distributes ten thousand bottles of wine among the peasants of the area to mark the festivities.