Rude Stone Monuments in All Countries/Chapter 9

by James Ferguson

 

CHAPTER IX.

SPAIN, PORTUGAL, AND ITALY.

It would not be easy to find a more apt illustration of the difficulty and danger of writing such a book as this than the history of how we acquired our knowledge of Spanish dolmens. When Ford published his interesting and exhaustive 'Handbook of Spain,' in 1845, he had travelled over the length and breadth of the land, and knew its literature intimately, but he did not know that there was a single "Druidical remain" in the country. The first intimation of their existence was in a pamphlet by Don Rafael Mitjana,^[1] containing the description of one at Antequera; and since then Don Gongora ý Martinez^[2] has published a work containing views and descriptions of thirteen or fourteen important monuments of this class in Andalusia and the south of Spain; and from other sources I know the names of at least an equal number in the Asturias and the north of Spain.^[3] Had this work consequently been written only a very few years ago, a description of the dolmen at Antequera must have begun and ended the chapter. As it now is, we not only know that dolmens are numerous in Spain, but we have a distinct idea of their distribution, which may lead to most important historical results.

With regard to Portugal, the case is even more striking. Kinsey, in his 'Portugal Illustrated,' in 1829, gave a drawing of a "Druid's altar" at Arroyolos, and it was mentioned also by Borrow,^[4] but there our information stopped, till the meeting of the International Prehistoric Congress at Paris in 1867, when S. Pereira da Costa described by name thirty-nine dolmens as still existing in Portugal. He also mentioned that as long ago as 1734 a memoir had been presented to the Portuguese Academy enumerating 314 as then to be met with; and though this is doubtful, it seems that they were at one time very numerous, and many, no doubt, still exist which have escaped S. da Costa's enquiries. Neither he nor any one else appears to have visited Cape Cuneus, the most southern point of Portugal, where, if we read Strabo aright, dolmens certainly existed in his day;^[5] and if they do so now, it would be a point gained in our investigation.

At present, according to S. da Costa, there are twenty-one dolmens in Alentejo, two in Estramadura, nine in Beira, four in Tras os Montes, and three in Minho. According to my information, they are numerous in Gallicia, but have never been described. Three at least are known by name in Santander, and as many in the Asturias. One at least is known in Biscay, and two in Vitoria; one in Navarre, and one in Catalonia. But I am assured that all along the roots of the mountains they are frequent, though no one has yet described or drawn them.^[6] So far as is known, there are none in the Castiles, in the centre of Spain, and only that group above alluded to in Andalusia, where probably, instead of a dozen, it may turn out that there are twice or thrice that number.

Assuming this distribution of the Spanish dolmens to be correct—and I see no reason for doubting that it is so, in the main features at least—it is so remarkable that it affords a good opportunity for testing one of the principal theories put forward with regard to the migrations of the dolmen-building people. According to the theory of M. Bertrand, the dolmen people, after passing down the Baltic and leaving their monuments there, migrated to the British islands, and after a sojourn of some time again took to their ships and landed in France and Spain, to pass thence into Africa and disappear.^[7] This seems so strange, that it is fortunate we have another hypothesis which assumes the probability of an indigenous population driven first to the hills and then into the ocean by the advancing tide of modern civilization.

The first hypothesis involves the assumption that the dolmen people possessed a navy capable of transplanting them and their families from shore to shore, and that they had a sufficient knowledge of geography to know exactly whither to go, but at the same time possessed with such a spirit of wandering that so soon as they settled for a certain time in a given place, and buried a certain number of their chiefs, they immediately set out again on their travels. According to this view, they were so weak that they fled the moment when the original possessors of the land rose against them, though, strange to say, they had in the first instance been able to dispossess them. What is still more unlikely is that they should have possessed the organization to keep together, and to introduce everywhere their own arts and their own customs, but that, when they departed, they should have left nothing but their tombs behind. This hypothesis involves in fact so many difficulties and so many improbabilities that I do not think that either M. Bertrand or the Baron de Bonstetten would now, that our knowledge is so much increased, adhere to it. I at least cannot see on what grounds it can be maintained. It is so diametrically opposed to all we know of ancient migrations. They seem always—in so far as Europe is concerned—to have followed the course of the sun from east to west; and the idea that a people, after having peopled Britain, should have started again to land on the rugged coasts of the Asturias or in Portugal, and not have been able to penetrate into the interior, is so very unlikely that it would require very strong and direct testimony to make it credible, while it need hardly be said no such evidence is forthcoming.

The hypothesis which seems to account much more satisfactorily for the facts as we know them assumes that an ancestral worshipping people inhabited the Spanish peninsula from remote prehistoric times. If so, they certainly occupied the pastoral plains of Castile and the fertile regions of Valencia and Andalusia, as well as the bleak hills of Gallicia and the Asturias. Whether we call them Iberians, or Celtiberians, or, to use a more general term, Turanians, they were a dead-reverencing, ancestral worshipping people, but had not in prehistoric times learnt to use stone for the adornment of their tombs.

The first people, so far as we know, who disturbed the Iberians in their possessions were the Carthaginians. They occupied the sea coast at least of Murcia and Valencia, and if, according to their custom, they sought to reduce the natives to slavery, they probably frightened multitudes from the coast into the interior, but there is no proof that they ever made any extensive settlements in the centre of the country, nor on its west or north coast. It was different with the Romans: with them the genius of conquest was strong; they longed to annex all Spain to their dominions, and no doubt drove all those who were impatient of their yoke into the remote districts of Portugal and the rugged fastnesses of the Asturias and the northern mountains. It is also probable that many, to avoid their oppressions, sought refuge beyond the sea; but the great migrations are probably due to the intolerance of the early Christian missionaries. It thus seems that it was to avoid Carthaginian rapacity, Roman tyranny, and Christian intolerance, that the unfortunate aborigines were forced first into the fastnesses of the hills, and thence driven literally into the sea, to seek refuge from their oppressors in the islands of the ocean.^[8]

Such an hypothesis seems perfectly consonant with all the facts as we now know them, and it also accounts for the absence of dolmens in the centre of Spain; for if this is correct, these migrations took place in the pre-dolmen period, and just as we find the Bryts beginning to use stones after having been driven from the fertile plains of the east into the fastnesses of Cumberland and Wales, so we find the Spaniards first adopting rude-stone monuments after having been driven into Portugal and the Asturias.

The one point which this theory does not seem to account for is the presence of dolmens in Andalusia. They however are, if I am not mistaken, an outlying branch of the great African dolmen field, and belong to the same age as these do, of which we shall be better able to judge presently. That there was a close or intimate connection from very early times between the south coast of Spain and the north of Africa hardly admits of a doubt. The facility with which the Moors occupied it in the seventh century, and the permanence of their dominion for so many centuries, is in itself sufficient to prove that a people of the same race had been established there before them, and that they were not a foreign race holding the natives in subjection, but dwelling among their own kith and kin.

It seems in vain to look among the written annals, either of Spain or Ireland, for a rational account of these events. Both countries acknowledge to the fullest extent that the migration did take place; and the Spanish race of Heremon is one of the most illustrious of those of Ireland, and fills a large page in its history. So, too, the Spanish annalists fill volumes with the successful expeditions of their countrymen to the Green Island.^[9] The mania, however, of the annalists of both countries for carrying everything back to the Flood, and the sons and daughters of Noah, so vitiates everything they say, that beyond the fact, which seems undoubted that such migration did occur no reliance can be placed on their accounts of these transactions.

One only paragraph that I know of seems to have escaped perversion. In his second chapter of his fourth book, D. O'Campo states:—"Certain natives of Spain called Siloros (the Siluri), a Biscayan tribe, joined with another, named Brigantes, migrated to Britain about 261 years before our era, and obtained possession of a territory there on which they settled."^[10] This is so consonant with what we know of the settlement of the Silures on the banks of the Severn that there seems no good reason for doubting its correctness. It is more doubtful, however, whether any Spanish colonies reached Ireland at so early an age. Even allowing for the existence in the north-east of Ireland of the realm of Emania, the only kingdom in Ireland of which we have any authentic annals before the Christian era, there was plenty of room for the contemporary existence of the race of Heremon in the south and west. Tara did not then exist, and, in fact, according to the annals of the 'Four Masters,' was founded by Heremon himself, and took its first name, Teamair, from Tea, his wife, who selected this spot. All this is perfectly consistent with what we know of the history of the place. The earliest monument at Tara is the Rath of Cormac^[11] (218 A.D., or probably fifty years later). Though therefore chosen by Heremon as a sacred or desirable spot for residence, there is no proof that his race ever occupied it; and in the two centuries that elapsed from his advent to the time of Cormac his race had passed away from Meath at least, and was only to be found in the south and west of Ireland. The one reminiscence of the Milesian race that remained at Tara, in historical times, is the Lia Fail, or Stone of Destiny, which these "veneratores lapidum" are said to have brought with them from Spain, but which, with all due deference to Petrie, is not the obelisk still standing there,^[12] but may be the stone now in Westminster Abbey. The Spanish colonists seem principally to have occupied the country about Wexford and Galway,^[13] and to these places, especially the latter, a continual stream of immigration appears to have flowed from the first century of our era down to the time of Elizabeth. No one can travel in these counties without remarking the presence of a dark-haired, dark-eyed race that prevails everywhere; but, strange to say, the darkest-complexioned people in the west are those who still linger among the long-neglected dolmens of Glen Malim More.

According to the annals of the 'Four Masters,' Heremon landed in Ireland fifty years after the death of the great Dagdha. The Irish historians say that the country was then ruled by three princesses, wives of the grandsons of the Dagdha, and add that the event took place 1002 years after Forann (Pharaoh) had been drowned in the Red Sea.^[14] If that event took place in 1312, as I believe it did,^[15] this would fix their advent in 310 B.C., which, though less extravagant than the chronology of the 'Four Masters,' is still, I believe, at least three centuries too early.

All this may not be—is not in fact—capable of absolute proof; but it has at least the merit that it pieces together satisfactorily all we know of the history and ethnography of these races, and explains in a reasonable manner all the architectural forms which we meet with. It is hardly fair to expect more from the annals of a rude people who could not write, and whose history has never been carefully investigated in modern times. It is too early yet to say so, but the fact is, that it is these rude-stone monuments which alone can reveal the secrets of their long forgotten past. As they have hitherto been treated, they have only added mystery to obscurity. But the time is not far off when this will be altered, and we may learn from a comparison of the Irish with Spanish dolmens, not only what truth there is in the migrations of Heremon, but also at what time these Spanish tribes first settled as colonists in the Irish isle.

 

Dolmens.

The finest dolmen known to exist in Spain is that of Antequera, above alluded to; it will, indeed, bear comparison with the best in France or any other country in Europe. The chamber is of a somewhat oval shape, and measures internally about 80 feet from the entrance to the front of the stone closing the rear. Its greatest width is 20 feet 6 inches, and its height varies between 9 and 10 feet.^[16]

The whole is composed of thirty-one stones: ten on each side form the walls; one closes the end; five are roofing and three pillars support the last at their junction. The stone forming the roof of the cell or innermost part measures 25 feet by 21 feet, and is of considerable thickness. All the stones comprising this monument are more or less shaped by art—at least to the extent to which those at Stonehenge can be said to be so; while the three pillars in the centre, which seem to be part of the original structure, are certainly hewn. The whole was originally covered with a mound about 100 feet in diameter, and is still partially at least so buried. Its entrance is, however, and probably always was, flush with the edge of the mound, and open and accessible, and it is consequently not to be wondered at if nothing was found inside to indicate its age or use.

If we might assume—there is no proof—that the mound at Antequera was originally surrounded by a circle of stones like those at Lough Crew (woodcut No. 72), we should have a monument whose plan and dimensions were the same as those of Stonehenge, and, mutatis mutandis, the two would be, as nearly as may be, identical. There is the same circle of stone or earth 100 feet in diameter, and the same elliptical choir 80 feet in length, assuming that of Stonehenge to be extended to the outer circle. Antequera is, in fact, a roofed and covered-up Stonehenge, Stonehenge a free-standing Antequera. If both were situated in Wiltshire or in Andalusia, I should unhesitatingly declare for Antequera being the older. Men do what is useful before they indulge in what is merely fanciful. The two, in fact, bear exactly the same relation to one another that Callernish does to New Grange; but when so widely separated geographically as the former two are, and belonging to two different races, it is difficult to say which may be the older. All we can feel sure of is that both belong to the same system, and that they are not far removed from each other in date. We must, however, know more than we do of the local history of Spanish dolmens before we can feel sure that Antequera may not be even considerably more modern than Stonehenge.

None of the other dolmens in Andalusia approach Antequera in magnificence, though they all seem to bear a similar character, and in appearance belong to the same age. The supporting stones seem to be all more or less shaped by art, and fitted to some extent to one another. The cap-stone is generally left in its natural state, largeness being the feature that the builders always aimed at. These peculiarities are well exhibited in the dolmen called de la Cruz del Tio Cogolleros, in the parish of Fonelas, near Guadix. Here the cap-stone measures nearly 12 feet each way, and covers what was intended to be a nearly square chamber; one side, as at Kit's Cotty House, being left open; consequently it could hardly ever have been intended to be covered with a mound. Indeed, so far as we can gather from Don Gongora's drawings, none of those which he illustrates were ever so buried, nor does it appear that it was originally the intention ever to cover them with earth. Another monument, called only Sepultura Grande, in the parish of Gor, in the same neighbourhood, is interesting from its resemblance to the Swedish sepulchre illustrated in woodcut No. 108, and to the Countless Stones at Aylesford. Its cap-stone is 12 feet by 8 feet, and the side-stones fall away to a point in front. It evidently never was intended to be further roofed, nor to be buried in a mound, and, so far as can be judged from its appearance, is of comparatively modern date.

The most interesting of Don Gongora's plates is one representing a dolmen near Dilar. This, if the drawing is to be depended upon, consists of a monolithic chamber, hollowed out of a stone of considerable dimensions, and hewn so as almost to look like an Egyptian cell. It is surrounded by twelve or fourteen rude-stone pillars, apparently 3 feet in height, and like those of Callernish in shape. In the distance are seen two other circles of rude stones, but with nothing in their centre. If I understand Don Gongora rightly, these monuments are now very much ruined, if not entirely destroyed, and it is not clear how far the drawings are actual sketches or restorations. They may be correct, but without further confirmation it would hardly be safe to found any argument upon them.

So little is known—or at least so little has been published—regarding the dolmens of the north of Spain that it is very difficult and very unsafe to attempt any generalisation regarding them. There are three, however, which do seem to throw some light on our enquiries. The first is at Eguilar, in the district of Vitoria, on the road between that city and Pampeluna. It is of a horse-shoe form, like the Countless Stones at Aylesford, and measures 13 feet by 10 feet internally. Originally it was roofed by a single stone, measuring 19 feet by 15 feet, but which is now, unfortunately, broken. The side-stones and roof are closely fitted to one another, showing that it was always intended to be, and, in fact, is now, partially covered by a mound of earth.

At Cangas de Onis, in the Asturias, about forty miles east from Oviedo, there is a small church built on a mound which contains in it a dolmen of rather unusual shape. Its inner end is circular in plan, from which proceeds a funnel-shaped nave, formed of three stones on each side, and with a doorway formed by two large stones at right angles to its direction. On the top of the mound a church was built, probably in the tenth or eleventh century,^[17] to which this dolmen served as a crypt. From this it seems to be a fair inference that, when the church was built on the mound, the dolmen was still a sacred edifice of the aborigines. Had the Christians merely wanted a foundation for their building, they would have filled up or destroyed the pagan edifice, but it seems to have remained open to the present day; and though it has long ceased to be used for any sacred purpose, it still is, and always was, an essential part of the church which it supported.

A still more remarkable instance of the same kind is to be found at a place called Arrichinaga, about twenty-five miles from Bilboa, in the province of Biscay. In the hermitage of St. Michael, at this place, a dolmen of very considerable dimensions is enclosed within the walls of what seems to be a new modern church. It may, however, be the successor of one more ancient; but the fact of these great stones being adopted by the Christians at all shows that they must have been considered sacred and objects of worship by the natives at the time when the Christians enclosed

them in their edifice. If the facts are as represented in the woodcut,^[18] we can now easily understand why the councils of Toledo, in 681 and 692, fulminated their decrees against the "veneratores lapidum;"^[19] and why also the more astute provincial priesthood followed the advice that Pope Gregory gave to Abbot Millitus, and by means of a little holy water and an image of San Miguel turned the sacred stones of the pagans into a temple of the true God. It is difficult to say when Christianity penetrated into the Asturias—not, probably, before the time of Pelayo (A.D. 720); but even this would be too early for such churches as those of Cangas de Onis and Arrichinaga. They, in fact, seem to carry down the veneration for big stones to almost as late a date as the age indicated by the dolmen at Confolens (woodcut No. 123), and bring the probable erection of some of them at least, if not of all, within the historic era.

 

Portugal.

Only one drawing of a dolmen in Portugal has as yet, so far as I know, been published. It is situated on a bleak heath-land at Arroyolos, not far from Evora. Mr. Borrow describes it as one of the most perfect and beautiful of its kind he had ever seen. "It was circular, and consisted of stones immensely large and heavy at the bottom, which towards the top became thinner, having been fashioned by the haul of art to something like the shape of scallop-shells. These were surmounted by a very large flat stone, which slanted down towards the south, where was a door. Three or four individuals might have taken shelter within the interior, in which was growing a small thorn-tree."^[20] Neither he nor Kinsey condescend to dimensions, and S. da Costa merely remarks that the dolmens which he has seen at Castello da Vide are of a similar construction to this one at Arroyolos.^[21]

This, it must be confessed, is but a meagre and imperfect outline of one of the most important dolmen-fields in Europe, but it is probably sufficient to indicate its importance and its bearing on the history of megalithic remains in general. When filled up, it promises to throw a flood of light on the subject in general, not only from being one of the connecting links serving to join the African dolmen-field to that of Europe, but more especially from the assistance it seems to afford us in understanding the hitherto mysterious connection of the Irish Milesians with Spain. If the dolmens on the north and west coasts of the Spanish peninsula were carefully examined and compared with those in Ireland, their similarity would probably suffice to prove their affinity, and to establish on a broad basis of fact what has hitherto been left to the wild imaginings of patriotic annalists, more anxious for the fabled antiquity of their race than for the prosaic results of truthful investigations.

From such knowledge as we at present possess, I see no reason for supposing that any of the Spanish dolmens are as old as the Christian era; and the facts connected with the two at Cangas de Onis and Arrichinaga seem to prove that they were "venerated" as late at least as the eighth, it may be the tenth, century, and, if venerated, there is no reason why they should not also have been erected at that late age.

 

Italy.

Although the experience we have just acquired with reference to dolmens in Spain ought to make any one cautious as to making assertions regarding those in Italy, still it probably is safe to assert that, with the exception of one group at Saturnia, there are no dolmens in that country. In many respects Italy is very differently situated from Spain. Her own learned societies and antiquaries have for centuries been occupied with her antiquities, and foreign tourists have traversed the length and breadth of the land, and could hardly have failed to remark anything that called to their recollection the Druids or Dragons of their own native lands. As nothing, however, of the sort has been recorded, we may feel tolerable confidence that no important specimens exist; though at the roots of the hills and in remote corners there can be little doubt that waifs and strays of wandering races will reward the careful searcher for such objects. One, for instance, is known to exist near Sesto Calende, in Lombardy. It is a circle of small stones, some 30 feet in diameter, with an avenue 50 feet in length touching it tangentially on one side, and with a small semicircle of stones 20 feet wide a few yards farther off.^[22] The whole looks like the small alignments on Dartmoor, and if several were found and the traditions of the country were carefully sifted, this might lead to some light being thrown on the subject. At present it is hardly much bigger or more interesting than a sheep-fold.

The Saturnia group is thus described by Mr. Dennis:—"They are very numerous, consisting generally of a quadrangular chamber sunk a few feet below the surface, lined with rough slabs of rock set upright, one on each side, and roofed over with two large slabs resting against each other, so as to form a penthouse, or else a single one of enormous size, covering the whole, and laid with a slight slope, apparently for the purpose of carrying off the rain. Not a chisel has touched these rugged masses, about 16 feet square to half that size; some divided, like that shown in the annexed woodcut, into two chambers over 18 feet across. To most of them a passage leads, 10 or 12 feet long and 3 feet wide. All are sunk a little below the surface, because each had a tumulus of earth piled around it, so as to cover all but the cap stone."

One tumulus was observed with a circle of small stones set round it, and Mr. Dennis suggests "that all may have been so encircled, but that the small stones would be easily removed by the peasantry." "Nothing," he adds, "at all like them is seen in any other part of Etruria."^[23] Saturnia is situated twenty miles from the sea, and if it is true that nothing of the sort is found elsewhere in Italy, these dolmens must be looked upon as exceptional—the remains of some stray colony of dolmen-builders, the memory of which has passed away, and may probably now be lost for ever.

If this is a correct representation of what took place in Italy, the conclusion seems inevitable that the chambered tumuli of that country—all of which are erected with hewn stones—did not grow out of rude-stone monuments. In no country in Europe are the tumuli so numerous or so important as in Etruria, and, as before mentioned, they certainly extend back to an era twelve or thirteen centuries before Christ. But if the dolmens of France or Scandinavia are prehistoric, or, in other words, extend back to anything like a thousand or fifteen hundred years before Christ, there is no reason whatever why dolmens should not be found also in Italy, if they ever existed there. Either it must be that Italy never possessed any or that those in the rest of Europe are very much more modern. If the northern dolmens are only one thousand to two thousand years old, the matter is easily explained. If they are three thousand or four thousand years old, they ought also to be found in Italy.

The fact seems to be that both the Pelasgi of Greece and the Tyrrheni of Italy came in contact either with Egypt or some early stone-hewing people before they left their homes in the East to migrate into Europe, and that they never passed through the rude-stone stage of architecture at any period, or at any place with which we are acquainted; and as they were, so far as we know, the earliest colonists of the countries they afterwards occupied, it seems in vain to look for dolmens where they settled. If Attila had lived five centuries before instead of after the Christian era, he and his Huns might have produced a rude-stone age in Italy. The inhabitants of Etruria were essentially a burying, dead-reverencing people, and if they had only been thrown back to that stage of barbarism which the rude monuments of our forefathers represent, we might have found dolmens there in thousands. The fate of Italy was different. Pressed by the Celts of Gallia Cisalpina in the north and by the Romans in the south, Etruria was squeezed out of existence, but by two races more civilized and progressive than herself. So far from throwing her back towards barbarism, Rome in adopting many of her forms advanced and improved upon them, and imparted to her architecture a higher and more intellectual form than she had been herself able to impress upon it. So, too, in Greece. The Dorian superseded and extinguished the Pelasgic forms, but after a longer interval of time. Four or five centuries elapsed between the last tomb we know of, at Mycenæ, and the earliest Doric temple at Corinth, and the consequence is that we see far fewer traces of the earlier people in the architecture of Greece than we do in that of Rome. But in neither instance was there any tendency to retrogade to a dolmen stage of civilization.

The case was widely different with such countries as Spain or France. There an aboriginal population had existed for thousands and tens of thousands of years, unprogressive and incapable, so far as we know, of progress within themselves, and only at last slowly and reluctantly forced by Roman example to adopt a more ambitious mode of sepulture than a mere mound of earth. No semi-civilized race ever settled in their lands, and the Carthaginians at Carthagena or Marseilles hardly penetrated into the interior, and were besides neither a building nor burying race, and had, consequently, very little influence on their modes of sepulture.

With Rome the case was different. She conquered and administered for centuries all those countries in which we find the earliest traces of rude-stone monuments, and she could hardly fail to leave some impress of her magnificence in lands which she had so long occupied. But when she withdrew her protecting care, France, Spain, and Britain relapsed into, and for centuries remained sunk in, a state of anarchy and barbarism as bad, if not worse than, that in which Rome had found them three or four centuries before. It was in vain to expect that the hapless natives could maintain either the arts or the institutions with which Rome had endowed them. But it is natural to suppose that they would remember the evidences of her greatness and her power, and would hardly go back for their sepulchres to the unchambered mole-hill barrows of their forefathers, but attempt something in stone, though only in such rude fashion as the state of the arts among them enabled them to execute.

1. 'Memoria sobre el Tempio Druida de Antequera,' Malaga, 1847.
2. 'Antegüedades prehistoricos de Andalucia,' Madrid, 1868.
3. For a great part of the information regarding them, I am indebted to my friend Don J. F. Riaño, of Madrid.
4. 'Bible in Spain,' ii. p. 35.
5. Strabo, iii. p. 138.
6. There is an interesting paper by Lord Talbot de Malahide on this subject in the 'Archæological Journal,' 108, 1870, illustrated by drawings of hitherto unknown dolmens, by Sir Vincent Eyre.
7. 'Revue archéologique,' new series, viii. p. 530.
8. "In the year B.C. 218, the second and fiercest struggle between the rival republics of Carthage and Rome was commenced by Hannibal taking Seguntum. The Peninsula thereafter became the theatre of a war afterwards carried by Hannibal into Italy, which was not concluded till 202 B.C., when Spain was added to the growing Italian Republic. But the nation of Spain did not willingly bow to the yoke. One of the bloodiest of all the Roman wars commenced in Spain 153, and did not finally terminate for twenty years, during which cities were razed to the ground, multitudes massacred and made slaves, and the triumphant arms of Rome borne to the Atlantic shores. Here, therefore, is an epoch in the history of the Spanish peninsula which seems completely to coincide with the ancient traditions of the Scoti, and the knowledge we possess of the period of their arrival in Ireland."—Dan Wilson, 'Prehistoric Annals of Scotland,' p. 475.
9. See a paper on the migration from Spain to Ireland, by Dr. Madden, 'Proccedings of Royal Irish Academy,' viii. pp. 372 et seqq.
10. Madden, l. s. c. p. 377.
11. Ante, p. 193.
12. Petrie, "Essay on Tara," 'Trans. R.S.A.' xviii.
13. "The two provinces which the race of Heremon possessed were the province of Gailian (i.e. Leinster) and the province of Olnemacht (i.e. Connaught)."—Petrie, 'Round Towers,' p. 100.
14. Reeves, translation of Nennius, p. 55.
15. 'True Principles of Beauty in Art,' by the Author, appendix, 526.
16. These dimensions are taken from Mitjana's book, merely turned into their equivalents in English feet. They do not, however, agree in scale with the plan, but are probably approximately correct.
17. There is a view of the mound and church in Parcerisa, 'Recuerdos y Bellezas de España, Asturias y Leon,' p. 30, but too small to enable us to be able to form any idea of its age from the lithograph.
18. The woodcut is copied from one in Frank Leslie's 'Illustrated News;' which is itself, taken from a French illustrated journal. I do not doubt that the American copy is a correct reproduction of the French original; but there may be exaggerations in the first. I see no reason, however, for doubting that the great stones do exist in the hermitage, and that they are parts, at least, of a dolmen—and this is all that concerns the argument. I wish, however, we had some more reliable information on the subject.
19. Vide ante, p. 24.
20. Borrow, 'Bible in Spain,' ii. p. 35.
21. 'Congrès international prehistorique,' Paris volume, p. 182.
22. 'Congrès international préhistorique,' Paris volume, p. 197.
23. 'Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria,' ii. p. 314.