Ornans is the birthplace of the princely Perronet de Granvelle (father of the Cardinal whose portrait by Titian adorns the picture-gallery of Besançon), and whose munificent patronage of arts and letters turned that city into a little Florence during the Spanish régime. In the church is seen the plain red marble sarcophagus of his parents, also a carved reading desk and several pictures presented to the church by his son, the Cardinal. There is a curious old Spanish house in the town, a relic of the same epoch. Ornans is celebrated for its cherry orchards and fabrications of Kirsch, also for Absinthe, and its wines. Everywhere you see cherry orchards and artificial terraces for the vines as on the Rhine, not a ledge of hill side being wasted. Gruyère cheese, so called, is also made here, and there are besides several manufactures, nail-forges, wire-drawing mills, and tile-kilns. But none of these interfere with the pastoralness of the scenery, and no wonder that this attracts French artists in the summer time. Lovely walks and drives abound, and the magnificence of the forest trees has been made familiar to us by the landscapes of Courbet, whose name will ever be associated with this quaint village in the Valley of the Loue.
We are now on the high road from Ornans to Pontarlier, and are passing some of the wealthiest little communities in Franche-Comté, Montgesoye, Vuillafans, Lods, all most picturesque to behold, and important centres of industry. Iron foundries, kirsch distilleries, chemical works, and other manufactures maintain these rustic populations, and such isolated little nuclei of trade will doubtless take extraordinary development when the line of railway from Besançon to Pontarlier, by way of Ornans, is completed. At present it is one of the few places that may be described as out of the world, and a veritable paradise for the lover of quiet and rusticity. If we proceed further on the Monthier road, the aspect changes, and we find ourselves in the winding close-shut valley, the narrow turbulent little streams of deepest green tossing over its rocky bed amid hanging vineyards and lofty cliffs. Soon, however, the vine, the oak, the beech, and the ash tree disappear, and we have instead the sombre pine and fir only.