Then I did see Sophie. I was seized with horror for some of the sparks from the fireworks had fallen on her hood, which was on fire.
Armand had seized her and was trying to smother the flames. I felt sick and faint. Charles was shouting: ‘Get her out …We’ve all got to get out of here.’
Sophie had fallen. I prayed swiftly: ‘Oh God, please save her. She will be trampled to death.’
In a few seconds I saw her again. Armand had picked her up and put her over his shoulder. She was limp but the fire was out.
Charles cried: ‘Follow me.’
He had slung me over his shoulder as though I were a sack of coal. All around us were screaming people pushing in all directions in their efforts to get out of the square. I saw pushing hands and frantic faces and the noise was deafening.
Charles was forcing his way through the crowd. I could no longer see Armand and Sophie and I had a terrible fear that they had been trampled underfoot.
Perhaps people are blessed with superhuman strength when faced with certain situations. I really believed Charles possessed it on that night. It is difficult now to recall the stark horror of everything about us. Some people had brought their carriages into the square and were now trying to get out. The horses seemed to be maddened by the press of people and there was a further danger as carriages toppled over and the horses tried to break free. The noise was unearthly and terrible.
I was expecting to fall at any moment but Charles kept steadily forging his way through the crowd. There was a relentlessness about him, a ruthless determination to save us at any cost. He was the sort of man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted and now all his efforts were concentrated on getting us safely out of the square.
I looked about for Armand and Sophie but could not see them. I could see nothing but that seething mass of panicking, hysterical people.
I could not say how long it lasted. I was only aware of fear and anxiety, not only for ourselves but for Sophie and Armand. A terrible premonition came to me that nothing was ever going to be the same after that night.
Some of the buildings were ablaze and that had started a fresh panic; fortunately for us it was on the far side of the square.
I can still hear the sounds of screams, the sobbing and anguished cries when I recall that fearful night.
But Charles brought me safely through. I remember always his pale face grimy with smoke … his clothes awry, his wig lost exposing his fine dark hair so that he seemed like a different man. I knew that if I survived that night I should have him to thank for it.
When we were apart from the crowd … and safe, Charles put me down. I had no idea where we were except that we had escaped from the Place Louis XV.
‘Lottie,’ he said in a voice such as I had never heard him use before.
I looked at him and his arms were round me. We clung together. There were many people about. Some had come from the nightmare square; others were spectators who had come out to see what was happening. No one took any notice of us.
‘Thank God,’ said Charles. ‘Are you … are you all right?’
‘I think so. And you … you did it all.’
There was a flicker of the old pleasantry but it did not seem quite natural. ‘I did it just to show that I am always at your service.’
Then suddenly we were laughing and I think nearly crying at the same time.
Immediately we remembered Sophie and Armand. We looked back at the square. Smoke was rising to the sky and we could still hear the shouts and screams of people fighting to get free.
‘Do you think … ?’ I began.
‘I don’t know.’
‘The last I saw of Armand he was carrying her.’
‘Armand would get through,’ said Charles.
‘Poor Sophie. I think she was badly hurt. Her hood was on fire for a time.’
We were silent for a few seconds. Then Charles said: ‘There is nothing to do but get back quickly. We’ll have to walk I’m afraid. There is nothing to take us back.’
So we began our walk to the
My mother took me into her arms.
‘Oh, Lottie … Lottie …thank God …’
I said: ‘Charles saved me. He carried me through.’
‘God bless him!’ said my mother.
‘Sophie and Armand …’
‘They are here. Armand stopped a carriage and they were brought back. It was ten minutes ago. Your father has sent for the doctors. Armand is safe. Poor Sophie … But the doctors will be here at any moment. Oh, my dear, dear child.’
I felt limp, dazed, exhausted and unable to stand up.
As we went into the
Armand came towards us.
‘Armand!’ I cried with joy.
‘I got through,’ he said. ‘I was lucky. I brought Sophie out and there was a carriage. I made them bring us back here.’
‘Where is Sophie?’ I asked.
‘In her room,’ said my mother.
‘She … ?’
My mother was silent and my father put an arm round me. ‘We don’t know yet,’ he said. ‘She has suffered some burns. The doctors must come soon.’
