The monks of Conques appear to have followed originally the rule of St. Martin, and to have adopted that of St. Benedict soon after its introduction into France.  The abbey of Figeac was therefore always Benedictine.  About the year 900 the monks began to cultivate learning, their labour having previously been devoted almost exclusively to the soil.  A certain Abbot Adhelard set them to copy manuscripts, and in course of time Figeac possessed a valuable library, of which the religious wars of the sixteenth century and the Revolution have left very few traces.

The first half of the eleventh century was full of turmoil, trouble, and torment.  The ‘blood-rain’ that fell all over Aquitaine, and which made people watch in terror for what might come next, was followed by a three years’ famine, which drove men in their hunger to prey upon one another.  The inns were man-traps; solitary travellers who ventured inside of them were killed and devoured.  Those were not good wayfaring days.  A man actually offered human flesh for sale in the market of Tournus; but he was burnt alive.  During this frightful period, the Abbot of Figeac distinguished himself by his charity, and, in order to find work for the unemployed, built a wall round the burg; but the monastery was much impoverished in consequence.

Towards the close of the eleventh century four slender obelisks—­called ‘needles’ in the country—­were set up on the hills around Figeac apparently to mark the boundaries of the sauvete; for the abbey enjoyed the right of sanctuary.  Two of these needles still exist.  According to an absurd story, which has been repeated by various writers, misled by the forgeries already mentioned, the monks, when they came to this part of the valley of the Cele, found it an uninhabited wilderness without a name, and somebody exclaimed, ’Fige acus!’ (’Set up needles!’), when the question of marking the boundary was being discussed.  This ingenious explanation of the word Figeac will not bear examination.

Every traveller in Aquitaine must have been struck by the remarkable number of places there whose names end in ac.  It is commonly supposed that the termination is derived from aqua, and refers to the river or stream near which the town or village was built.

Ac, however, does not at all correspond to the well-known corruptions of aquae still found in the names of places in France where the Romans constructed baths.  We are on much surer ground in assuming it to be of Celtic origin, and to have belonged in a special manner to the dialect spoken by the Cadurci, Ruteni and other Southern tribes.  It nevertheless occurs at Carnac—­that spot of Brittany where is to be seen the most remarkable of all monuments, commonly attributed to the Celts.  The word probably meant town.  It is unreasonable to suppose that the monks found the valley of the Cele a desert, considering how densely populated was the