ualistic use is thereby rendered improbable. Moreover,
if we chance upon any rude carving or incised work on dolmens we
observe that it is invariably executed on the _lower_ surface of the
table stone, the upper surface being nearly always rough, unhewn,
often naturally rounded, and as unlike the surface of an altar as
possible.

Recent research has established the much more reasonable theory that
these monuments are sepulchral in character, and that they mark the
last resting-places of persons of tribal importance, chiefs, priests,
or celebrated warriors. Occasionally legend assists us to prove the
mortuary character of menhir and dolmen. But, without insisting any
further for the present upon the purpose of these monuments, let us
glance at the more widely known of Brittany's prehistoric structures,
not so much in the manner of the archaeologist as in that of the
observant traveller who is satisfied to view them as interesting
relics of human handiwork bequeathed from a darker age, rather than as
objects to satisfy the archaeological taste for discussion.

For this purpose we shall select the best known groups of Breton
prehistoric structures, and shall begin our excursion at the
north-eastern extremity of Brittany, following the coast-line, on
which most of the principal prehistoric centres are situated, and, as
occasion offers, journeying into the interior in search of famous or
interesting examples.

_Dol_

Dol is situated in the north of the department of Ille-et-Vilaine,
not far from the sea-coast. Near it, in a field called the Champ
Dolent ('Field of Woe'), stands a gigantic menhir, about thirty feet
high and said to measure fifteen more underground. It is composed of
grey granite, and is surmounted by a cross. The early Christian
missionaries, finding it impossible to wean the people from
frequenting pagan neighbourhoods, surmounted the standing stones
with the symbol of their faith, and this in time brought about the
result desired.[8]

_The Legend of Dol_

A strange legend is connected with this rude menhir. On a day in the
dark, uncharted past of Brittany a fierce battle was fought in the
Champ Dolent. Blood ran in streams, sufficient, says the tale, to turn
a mill-wheel in the neighbourhood of the battlefield. When the combat
was at its height two brothers met and grappled in fratricidal strife.
But ere they could harm one another the great granite shaft which now
looms above the field rose up