24 A great French victory in 1745; at Fontenoy, in Belgium, the French, commanded by the Marshal de Saxe, defeated the combined forces of the British, Dutch, and Austrians.
Chapter Eighteen: A King In Verrières
Chapter Eighteen: A King In Verrières Is that all you're good for, to be thrown away, like the corpse of a country, having no soul and your veins bloodless? —Sermon by the Bishop, at Saint Clemen's Chapel On the third of September, at ten o'clock at night, a gendarme woke up everyone in Verrières, galloping up the highway. He brought the news that His Majesty, the King of ——— , was arriving on Friday next, and would be staying till Tuesday. The head of the district authorized—that is, ordered—a guard of honor to be assembled: every possible pomp and ceremony was to be exhibited. A mounted courier had been dispatched to Verrières. Monsieur de Rênal arrived that night and found the town all aflutter. Everyone had ambitions; those with the least pretentions were renting their balconies for observing the king's entrance. Who would command the guard of honor? Monsieur de Rênal saw at once how vital it was, on behalf of those whose houses might have to be moved, that Monsieur de Moirod should be the commander. This could establish his claim to be first deputy. There was no difficulty about Monsieur de Moirod's piety, which was beyond all comparison, but he had never before ridden a horse. He was a man of thirty-six, profoundly fearful, and equally terrified of tumbling off and becoming an object of ridicule. His Honor the Mayor paid him a call at five the next morning. "Please be aware, monsieur, that I come seeking your advice, exactly as if you already held the post that all upright people wish you to have. In our unfortunate town, industrialists are becoming wealthy, liberals are turning into millionaires: they long for power, they know how to capitalize on every chance. Let us consider the interests of the king, of the monarchy and, above all, of our holy religion. How would you feel, monsieur, if you were offered command of the guard of honor?" In spite of the terror that horses inspired in him, Monsieur de Moirod finally accepted the honor, as a form of martyrdom. "I know how to behave properly," he told the mayor. There was barely enough time to put the uniforms in order: they had last been used seven years before when a prince of royal blood passed through. At seven o'clock, Madame de Rênal arrived from Vergy, together with Julien and the children. She found her drawing room filled with liberal ladies, preaching amalgamation of the two political parties, and asking her to persuade her husband to grant them, too, a place in the guard of honor. One of them pretended that if her husband was not chosen, grief would drive him into bankruptcy. Madame de Rênal quickly sent them all away. She seemed much preoccupied. Julien was astonished but, even more, angered that she was making a mystery of whatever might be troubling her. "I thought as much," he told himself, bitterly. "The joy of receiving royalty in her house drives love from her mind. All this fussing simply dazzles her. She'll love me again, when these class-inspired notions stop bothering her brain." What truly amazed him was that, on these accounts, he loved her even more. Decorators began pouring into the house; he tried in vain to find an opportunity to say anything to her. He finally managed, just as she was coming out of his room, carrying off one of his suits. He tried to speak to her. She refused to listen. "I'm really a fool to love a woman like this: ambition turns her just as crazy as her husband." She was crazier. One of her greatest longings, which she had never confessed to Julien, for fear of shocking him, was to see him out of his dreary black garments, even if only for a single day. With a dexterity quite remarkable in a woman so straightforward, first she got Monsieur de Moirod, and then the deputy governor of the district, Monsieur de Maugiron, to agree that
The Red and the Black
Julien should be included in the guard of honor, in preference to five or six young men, sons of very wealthy industrialists, two of whom, at least, were of exemplary piety. Monsieur Valenod, who planned to loan his dashing light carriage to the prettiest women in town, and get them to admire his handsome Normands, agreed to let Julien have one of his horses, though he loathed him. But all the honor guards would have, or would borrow, gorgeous sky blue outfits with two silver colonel's shoulder-pieces, last put on glittering display seven years earlier. Madame de Rênal wanted a new costume, and it took her no more than four days to send to Besançon, and to receive from there an entire uniform, complete with sword and cap, and everything else belonging to a guard of honor. Amusingly, she thought it unwise to have all this made in Verrières. She wanted to surprise him, him and the whole town. Once he had behind him the tasks of creating the guard of honor, and of building public spirit, the mayor was able to busy himself with a great religious ceremony. The King of ——— would not want to pass through Verrières and not visit the famous relic of Saint Clemens, preserved in Upper Bray, not far from the town proper. It would be desirable to have as many clerics as possible, but this was the hardest thing to arrange. Father Maslon, the new parish priest, wished at all costs to avoid including Father Chélan. Monsieur de Rênal tried to explain to him that this would not be wise, but in vain. The Marquis de La Mole, whose ancestors had for so long been royal governors of the entire province, had been appointed to accompany the King of ———. He had known Father Chélan for thirty years. He would surely ask for news of him, when he got to Verrières, and should he find that the old priest was out of favor, and out of office, he was exactly the sort who would call on the old priest, in the little house to which he had retired, and bring with him everyone he could from the whole attending train. What a slap in the face! "I would be dishonored both here and in Besançon," declared Father Maslon, "if he were included among my priests. Good Lord, he's a heretic!"1 "No matter what you say, my dear Father," replied Monsieur de Rênal, "I cannot expose the administration of Verrières to an insult from Monsieur de La Mole. You're not familiar with him: though he's a courtier of considerable weight, out here in the countryside he wields a singularly wicked tongue, always trying to embarrass people. He's quite capable, simply for his own amusement, of covering us with ridicule in every liberal's eyes." It was only between Saturday night and Sunday morning, after three days of bargaining, that Father Maslon yielded to the mayor's fear, which was evolving into courage. A sugared letter had to be written to Father Chélan, seeking his assistance for the reliquary ceremony at Upper Bray, provided his great age and his physical limitations would allow him to come. Father Chélan requested, and received, a letter of invitation for Julien, who was to accompany him, as a subdeacon. Beginning Friday morning, thousands of peasants, tumbling down from the surrounding mountains, inundated the streets of Verrières. The weather was bright and sunny. At last, toward three o'clock, the crowd was suddenly aroused: a great fire had been seen on a high rock about three miles from Verrières. This announced that the king had just crossed the department's borders. Immediately, the ringing of all the bells, and repeated salutes fired by an old Spanish cannon owned by the town, signaled the collective joy on this grand occasion. Most of the inhabitants climbed onto rooftops. The women were all on balconies. The guard of