...Then cries of “Long live the Republic!” were heard. People rushed forward, dipping handkerchiefs into the blood of Louis XVI. The Abbé, dazed, did not know how he climbed off the scaffold. He could only notice that some of the blood from the severed head had splashed upon his clothes. Meanwhile, Sanson was selling locks of the King’s hair, pieces of his jacket, his buttons, his hat. Someone began to play the Marseillaise, and people joined hands, dancing and cavorting around the guillotine, “like the prophets of Baal,” thought the Abbé. A cold mist had descended upon Paris at the moment of the King’s death, but above, and beyond it, was the sun... ~from Trianon by Elena Maria Vidal
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St Louis, Martyred King pray for us.