The Church of Notre Dame du Puy, built upon a height, as the word puy implies, is likewise interesting only in respect of details, such as the sculptured archivolts of the portal and the fourteenth-century rose-window.  It, however, contains a very remarkable example of sixteenth-century wood-carving in its massive and elaborate reredos, a portion of which, having been destroyed by fire, has been repaired with plaster, but so skilfully that it is very difficult to perceive where the artistic fraud begins and where it ends.

The extraordinary interest of Figeac to the archaeologist lies, however, in its civic and domestic architecture.  This has been preserved simply because the inhabitants have for centuries played no part in the political history of the country, and their pursuits or interests having remained constantly agricultural, they have been equally cut off from the commercial movement.  But every year will diminish the charm of this dirty old town to the antiquary.  It will be observed that all the old streets are not accidentally crooked, but that they have been carefully laid out on curved or zigzag lines, which turn now in one direction and now in another.  The motive was a defensive one in view of street-fighting, which was often so terrible and so prolonged in the Middle Ages.  Each curve of a street formed an obstacle to the onward rush of an enemy, and only allowed those burghers who were actually engaged to be exposed to arrows and bolts.  The townsmen could dispute the ground inch by inch and for days, as they did at Cahors when they were surprised by Henry of Navarre, although firearms had then come into use.

Wine-growing, until some eight or ten years ago, was the chief source of revenue to the people of Figeac, as well as to those in the neighbouring valley of the Lot.  Middle-aged people here can recollect the days when wine was so cheap that the inn-keepers did not take the trouble to measure it out to their customers, but charged them a uniform price of two sous for stopping and drinking as much as they pleased.  But all this has been changed by the phylloxera.  From being exceptionally prosperous, the people of the district have become poor.  Very few have now any money to lay out in replanting their vineyards.  Land has so fallen in value that it can be bought at a price that seems scarcely credible.  With £100 one might become the proprietor of a large vineyard.  Higher up the hills, where the chestnut and juniper thrive, half the money would buy quite a considerable estate.  Here and elsewhere in France thousands of acres lie uncultivated and unproductive, except as regards that which nature unaided renders to man.  Not all, but a very large portion, of this waste-land would well repay cultivation if the capital needed for clearing and working it were obtainable.  That the lands suitable for wine-growing could be rendered remunerative is absolutely certain if those who undertook the task had the money necessary for the first outlay of planting and could afford to wait for the return.