I stood gazing at the thing, and as I did so—I am telling truthfully what occurred—there was a deafening report that sounded like a thunder-clap, only it came from below. It shook the timber-work and echoed and re-echoed through the church. It was succeeded by a second roar, then a third, at regular intervals. I recognised the thunder of the cannon, and remembered the gun I had seen in the square.
I turned to my guide:
“What is that noise?”
“The telegraph has been at work and the cannon has been fired.”
“What does it mean?” I continued.
“It means,” said the beadle, “that a grandson has just been born to Louis Philippe.”
The cannon announced the birth of the Count de Paris.
These are my recollections of Rheims.