62 In AND AROUND BESANCON, 
temple, stands the Cathedral, which is so hemmed in with 
nunneries that it has little architectural effect. It contains, 
however, some fine mural paintings; but much more interesting 
is the fine astronomical clock built in imitation of the one in 
Strassburg Cathedral. It has about forty dials, showing the time 
at different parts of the earth, together with the rise and fall of 
the tide, and the phases of the moon. At the stroke of twelve 
six of the apostles circle round the figure of Christ. Mention of 
this clock recalls the fact that the chief industry of the town is 
watchmaking, and I had the privilege of seeing the different pro- 
cesses gone through in this most interesting manufacture. I 
think the most marvellous piece of machinery was the one which 
cuts out the teeth in the wheels. The factories of this town 
alone turn out annually no less than 100,000 gold and a quarter 
of a million silver watches. 
Besancon, or its immediate vicinity, has been the birthplace 
of men of world-wide fame. Mention has been made of Pasteur 
and Victor Hugo, whose statue in marble adorns the Promenade 
Granvelle, a recreation ground in the centre of the town, em- 
bowered in planes and chestnut trees. Here, too, was born 
Mairet, who helped to forge the chains which were to bind the 
French dramatic writers for two centuries in the classical tradi- 
tion until set free by his townsman Victor Hugo. Vernier, the 
inventor of the instrument which bears his name; Cuvier, the 
naturalist ; Luc Breton, the sculptor; Fourier, the communist, 
who gave rise to the “ phalanstérienne school ;’’ Proudhon, the 
publicist, who wished to do away with rent and interest ; Nodier, 
the poet, were born here. 
Besancon is one of the most strongly fortified towns on the 
borders of France. The walls and the river are of little im- 
portance now in those days of big guns; but sixteen of the 
neighbouring hills are fortified. These forts are often sur- 
rounded by trees, and are only visible when one stands on a 
higher hill. It is also a garrison town, having seven distinct 
barracks. You rub shoulders with soldiers at every turn. I was 
in the town during the Féte Nationale, and the march past of the 
soldiers in broad columns took two hours. One finds in the 
school books all over France strong admonitions to the children 
to remember the fate of their cousins of Alsace-Lorraine. 
The neighbouring hills give rise to saline springs, the waters 
