The Megalithic Architectures of Europe

A monumental task: building the dolmens of Britain and Ireland

Vicki Cummings and Colin Richards

Abstract

The dolmens of Britain and Ireland are a distinctive “type” of early Neolithic monument which are characterised by the presence of substantial capstones supported by uprights. In this paper we discuss the different stages of construction involved in building a dolmen. We suggest that many dolmens were built by quarrying and raising a single large stone in situ. The capstones of dolmens were then deliberately shaped before being displayed in particular ways. We provide detailed information on the proposed six-stage construction process from our recent excavations at Garn Turne in southwest Wales and discuss the wider social implications of this form of building.

Keywords: Dolmens, megaliths, construction, quarrying, shaping capstones, display

Introducing dolmens

The beginning of the Neolithic in Britain and Ireland is accompanied by the appearance of monumental architecture. In the past such architecture has been ordered and segregated by the identification of different “types”, predicated on the presence and absence of specific architectural characteristics. Such typological ordering was especially prevalent within the field of megalithic monuments (Daniel 1950; Piggott 1954; Henshall 1963; 1972). However, the potency of past typologies is often underestimated and still lurks behind various interpretations of the Neolithic (e.g. Sheridan 2003; Whittle et al. 2011). Of course, there is a requirement to distinguish between monumental constructions, but typological labelling, despite its minute attention on architectural features, somehow fails to capture the divergent intentions and essence of expression embodied in different monumental forms.

A case in point is the “dolmen” monument, which arguably is the most spectacular monument of the early Neolithic period. Dolmens can be characterised by the presence of a large capstone supported by a number of uprights. These monuments are known by a variety of names in the literature: “portal dolmens” in Britain, “portal tombs” in Ireland, and in a few cases, small passage graves (Cummings and Richards 2015). There are slight differences between these different classifications, including the presence of a short passage at some sites, but the overall architectural form and effect is the same: “The standard ‘Portal Tomb’ is based on a tripod design with tall portals and lower backstone supporting a massive roofstone poised with its heavier end above the entrance” (Ó Nualláin 1983, 88). This description is worth considering for a moment. The name “portal tomb” instantly identifies function, and once such function is attributed, further scrutiny becomes subordinate. Yet, in the case of the portal tomb as described by Ó Nualláin, there is an architectural feature which is overwhelming in terms of appearance and construction; the massive capstone. It is the enormous capstone which is the definitional characteristic of the portal tomb, not the presence of “portals” or the ephemeral skeletal remains. How has such imagery and effort of construction been overlooked for this distinctive architectural form? One answer may lie in a tyranny of typology which homogenises the very monuments it seeks to define.

Fig. 5.1: The distribution of dolmen monuments in Britain and Ireland

There have been surprisingly few recent excavations of dolmen monuments, and the focus of investigation has consistently been on the role of these sites as burial monuments. Thus it has primarily been the chamber and its contents which have been highlighted and explored in the past (Kytmannow 2008). Curiously, this is despite the striking imagery of the presence of an enormous capstone.

Both Pentre Ifan (Grimes 1948) and Dyffryn Ardudwy (Powell 1973) in Wales were excavated to a high standard for the time but neither produced large numbers of finds. Two sites have produced more material. A surprisingly large number of skeletal remains, as well as animal bones, stone artefacts, bone objects, and pottery, were found at Poulnabrone in County Clare, Ireland (Lynch 2014). Carreg Coetan in south-west Wales also produced many finds, including a large number of lithics and pot sherds (Rees 2012). It is clear that those monuments that have been excavated have produced evidence for the use of the chamber in the early Neolithic, and this has been employed to suggest that these sites were also constructed at this time. However, these monuments continued to receive depositions for many thousands of years demonstrating that they retained their significance over a long period of time. There has also been detailed work on the distribution of dolmens (Ó Nualláin 1983) as well as their broader landscape setting (Bradley 1998; Cummings 2009; Cummings and Whittle 2004; Kytmannow 2008; Tilley 1994; 1996). It has been suggested that these monuments were specifically located in relation to particular landscape features which may have been significant in local cosmologies (Whittle 2004). The focus of our project takes into account both their use and location but is primarily concerned with the imagery of dolmen architecture and how it was achieved through practices surrounding construction and it is to this issue which we now turn.

Fig. 5.2: An outcrop near Pentre Ifan, Wales. This is the type of stone dolmen builders would have selected as a capstone. (Photo by Vicki Cummings)

Construction processes

When we are concerned with distributions and sequences of tomb plans and with objects of dateable type buried with the dead in these tombs, it is easy to forget the implications in human terms of these great monuments – the man hours of navvying and quarrying and dragging involved, and the ideas and ideals that prompted and inspired this hard work. (Daniel 1963, 22)

In recent years there has been a growing interest in the construction processes employed at various types of monuments throughout Europe (e.g., papers in Cooney 2011b; Richards 2013). There has also been an increased focus on both the quarrying of stone for megaliths (e.g. Richards 2004a, 2009; Cooney 2011a) as well as their subsequent deployment in monuments (Pollard and Gillings 2009; Scarre 2009a; 2009b). Quarries more generally have seen considerable interest over the last few decades, primarily in relation to stone axes. Previous studies have looked at both sourcing the specific stone types used to make axes (Clough and Cummins 1988; Davis and Edmonds 2011) and the broader context of stone axe production (Bradley and Edmonds 1993). However, in recent years it has also been possible to locate the quarries for megaliths. For instance, a project examining the construction of stone circles has identified a number of monolith quarries in Orkney, and at Calanais (Callanish) in the Outer Hebrides (Richards 2013). Likewise, a number of projects have attempted to identify the source of the Stonehenge bluestones in south-west Wales (Darvill and Wainwright 2011; Parker Pearson et al. 2011; Thorpe et al. 1991). In some cases it has been possible to reconstruct quite complex sequences of quarrying stones for megaliths, as in the case of Carnac in north-west France (Mens 2008).

It has also been suggested that instead of thinking that people built monuments because they were aiming for a finished structure that could then be used to fulfil a particular function, it was the act of construction itself that was important (Barrett 1994). Labouring and building brought people together. McFadyen (2006) in particular has talked in detail about the importance of the construction of Neolithic architecture as a social process, bringing together not only people, but also substances, memories and bits of other places, and interweaving them into an architectural form (also see McFadyen 2007, 348–354). It is therefore important to consider the social implications of building a monument, particularly the necessary accumulation and deployment of resources necessary to produce the conditions under which construction could commence. For example, the builders would need to arrange for a large group of people to gather at a particular point. They would need rope, rollers, grease, and traction, and they would require large quantities of food to feed those involved in construction (Joussaume 1985, 102–103; Richards 2004b). This may have involved years of negotiations between different social groups, the accumulation of food, and the gathering together of resources. In addition, amongst contemporary groups who still construct megalithic architecture, the act of construction embodies different levels of significance. Large numbers of participants can provide an index of status as much as ensuring successful building projects (Hoskins 1986). Moreover, much social risk is embodied in such elaborate strategies of enhancing social position (Richards et al. 2013). The point of building may not be how quickly or efficiently it can be achieved, but how many people can be brought together to be involved in a significant social event. Following this line of research we will detail the stages in the construction process of a dolmen monument. This will enable us to characterise the quantity of investment of both labour and time, but also to think through the social consequences of construction.

Fig. 5.3: Arthur’s Stone, Gower, Wales. The dolmen sits within a large pit. (Photo by Colin Richards)

Fig. 5.4: Post-excavation plan of the forecourt area at Garn Turne. [007] is the cut of the large pit and [102] and [107] are the slots at the base of this pit. The large stone (052) and associated contexts are an earlier phase at the site. Stones 2, 3, and 9 are those of the forecourt

Fig. 5.5: Section through the large pit in the forecourt at Garn Turne. [007] is the cut of the capstone extraction pit and [102] is the slot at the base of this pit. Stone 4 is one of the collapsed uprights which originally supported the capstone. The large stone (052) and associated contexts are an earlier phase at the site

Fig. 5.6: Photo of the location of the large pit found in the forecourt at Garn Turne, which we have interpreted as the quarry site for the capstone. The solid white line indicates the definite location of the pit, and the dashed white line the probable location. While we were able to explore much of the pit, the façade standing stones in the forecourt obscure its full extent. (Photo by Adam Stanford)

Building a dolmen

Stage 1: choose an outcrop/erratic

The first stage in the construction process would be to decide precisely where to build a monument. A central question concerns what requirements influenced situation. Tilley (1994), and subsequently Cummings and Whittle (2004), argue that the situation of some Welsh dolmen was based upon topography and landscape reference. Yet, this scheme could be potentially compromised if we were to follow Lynch’s (1975) suggestion concerning the capstone for Carreg Samson in south-west Wales. She proposed that the capstone was originally visible as an outcrop/erratic which was quarried in situ, and then elevated to form the monument. This scheme indicates that the position of the monument is predicated on the location of a suitable stone (and see Fleming 2005). When considering this issue, however, it is worth bearing in mind that in the Neolithic, landscapes that have been cleared for agriculture over millennia and are now devoid of stone would then have contained masses of stones that would be suitable for monumental construction (Scarre 2009b, 9–11). Conversely, stone outcrops are often still visible around many sites today, including the dolmen of Pentre Ifan, Pembrokeshire, Wales, even though the fields have seen extensive clearance (Fig. 5.2). Therefore, back in the Neolithic, the builders would have had a huge range of stones to choose from when considering which to use in construction. This means that the choice of stone cannot have been predicated purely by stone availability. Thus, the use of one outcrop/erratic over another is likely to have taken into account other factors, including overall landscape setting.

Fig. 5.7: A stone on Carn Alw. This stone is lying on its side surrounded by a small platform, which would be an easy way of gaining access to the base of a capstone for shaping and dressing. (Photo by Peter Style).

Fig. 5.8: Hammerstones found at Garn Turne. (Photo by Vicki Cummings)

Fig. 5.9: Rhyolite flakes found in the pit at Garn Turne, produced by shaping the capstone. (Photo by Vicki Cummings)

Stage 2: dig a big pit

Once a particular stone had been selected for dolmen architecture, labour for extraction was required. Many stones and boulders, while partly visible on the surface, would have been deposited in natural soil since the retreat of the ice sheets 7000 years earlier. Consequently, the digging of a substantial pit would be required around the selected stone in order to gain access. Significantly, older excavations have produced tentative evidence for this process. At Carreg Samson (Lynch 1975) there was evidence of a pit directly underneath the monument, although the excavator was unable to explore it in any detail due to the presence of the monument within it. Likewise, at Pentre Ifan (Grimes 1948) the excavator suggested the remains of a large pit in which the monument stood was the source of the capstone. Moreover, some dolmens are present within massive pits, such as Arthur’s Stone on the Gower, Wales (Fig. 5.3). The excavations of the monument of Garn Turne in south-west Wales in 2011 and 2012 were designed to discover if a similar situation existed there. The intention was to explore the extraction pit of the capstone in more detail: this was possible because the standing monument had collapsed backwards.

After initial exploration in 2011, a very large pit which had once contained the massive capstone was confirmed. The offset position of the collapsed dolmen allowed us to excavate a considerable portion of the pit, although some areas were inaccessible due to the presence of a façade of standing stones in the forecourt which obscured its full extent. The pit at Garn Turne was substantial, roughly seven metres wide and over a metre deep (Figs 5.4–5.6). At the very base of the pit we found two long, narrow slots projecting in from either side which were cut prior to the stone’s extraction. These slots would have enabled large timbers to have been inserted beneath the stone.

Stage 3: extract the capstone

However, not all dolmens are built over pits. In some cases, the capstone was clearly detached from an adjacent outcrop. Nonetheless, it seems that in several cases, dolmen monuments were constructed within the extraction pits of their capstone. Raising a stone of this magnitude must have constituted a dangerous act of great practical and ontological consequence. In practical terms, once a trench had been dug around a suitably shaped stone for a dolmen capstone, the stone needed to be elevated in situ. At this point in the construction process, ropes, levers (presumably large tree trunks), and manpower would have been required. Levering stones is an efficient technique of manoeuvre (Joussaume 1985, 103), as demonstrated via experimental archaeology and confirmed by the two opposed slots discovered at the base of the Garn Turne pit. Once one end of the capstone had been lifted, support could be placed under the stone and the other end levered up (see below). Slowly the large stone would have emerged.

Fig. 5.10: The capstone at Brennanstown, Ireland, the underneath of which has clearly been shaped. (Photo by Vicki Cummings)

Stage 4: shape the underside of the capstone

Dolmen capstones ubiquitously have flat undersides. Indeed, the tortoise shell profile of the dolmen capstone is almost an archetypal image. It has been assumed that this shape is a product of the fault line or fissure which allows a capstone to be extracted from a rounded outcrop. In some case this is true, but when a stone is quarried from a pit, such as Pentre Ifan, the stone is rounded in shape. In these cases, it requires splitting; a dangerous enterprise as the overall trajectory of fissures and bedding planes can be notoriously difficult to predict. However, it is clear from the visual inspection of some dolmens that such splitting could be extremely successful. Wooden wedges swollen with water could effectively detach a section with a flat and level fracture plane. In other cases, things did not work out so well, and then a degree of shaping was required. It would be extremely difficult to shape the underside of a capstone while it was being elevated from its extraction pit. One solution for both splitting and shaping a stone would be to manoeuvre the capstone so that it lay on its side. The base of the capstone could then be flaked or pecked with greater ease (see Fig. 5.7).

We have excellent evidence for the shaping of the capstone at Garn Turne. The base of the capstone was clearly flaked: in addition, 93 hammerstones were found in the large pit, most with abraded ends, and some were also fragmented and broken. These hefty hammerstones would have been suitable for shaping the stones employed in the dolmen monument (Fig. 5.8). In addition, we uncovered a mass of large flakes of rhyolite, the stone from which Garn Turne was constructed (Fig. 5.9). The vast majority of the flakes were cortical, suggesting that they were created during the minimal, rough trimming of the capstone and orthostats (Olaf Bayer pers. comm.). This assemblage had a combined weight of over 123kg. At other dolmen monuments, it is also possible to see evidence for the shaping and dressing of the underside of the capstone, which could have been achieved through flaking, as at Garn Turne, and/or pecking (Fig. 5.10).

Stage 5: elevate the capstone into position

Once the capstone was partially elevated and its base shaped, it could then be manoeuvred into position. Levers were most likely used to gradually lift up the stone, with large stones and wooden props placed underneath to provide support as it was raised. This method was employed in an experiment on a 32 tonne capstone replica at Bougon, France. Here, three 10m oak levers raised the block 50cm at a time, and chocks were placed beneath the stone (Joussaume 1985, 103). At Garn Turne, a mass of very large stones were present in the base of the pit (many of which required two or more people to lift them): we propose these were used as chocks. Large stones would be sufficient to support a capstone as it was raised using levers. Ropes tied around the stone and tensioned would have been useful for stabilisation as it was levered up. As the stone was raised higher, timbers could also be employed to provide support. At Garn Turne no postholes were found that could have held supports for the elevated capstone: however, a mass of burnt mature oak was deposited in the pit which may have been the remains of such timbers. Monuments elsewhere have evidence of postholes which may well have served this purpose (see Bakker 2009, 30).

A possible alternative to elevating the capstone into position would be to drag the stone out of its quarry pit, erect the supporting orthostats nearby, and then drag the capstone up a ramp in order to carefully lower it onto the supporting uprights. This idea of dragging a stone up a ramp is frequently cited as the way in which horizontal stones were placed in position during megalithic construction (Bakker 2009, 31), and it is possible that some dolmen were also constructed in this way. However, one of the issues with this method of construction is how to gently lower the capstone without damaging either the supporting uprights or the capstone. In the case of Stonehenge, the lintel was placed on top of the wide, thick trilithons, so this was far less of an issue. It is also not a problem if the uprights are surrounded and supported by a cairn. In the case of dolmen monuments, however, we argue that there was no surrounding cairn (see above) and that the builders aimed to have the capstone touching the smallest possible area of the uprights. This would be more reliably achieved by adding uprights to an elevated and supported capstone, as detailed below.

Fig. 5.11: The dolmen at Achnacliffe, Ireland. (Photo by Colin Richards)

Stage 6: add supporting uprights

If the capstone has been quarried and elevated in situ, and is supported by chocks and/or wooden supports, it is relatively easy to insert the supporting upright stones one by one. Small sections of the underlying support can be removed and an upright inserted in their place. This would allow the builders to achieve the desired effect – the smallest possible surface of the upright touching the capstone – as there was scope for trial and error in the placement of the support. It also allows the uprights to be inserted straight into the base of the pit without the need for sockets. Indeed, the absence of sockets was documented at the excavation of Carreg Samson, where the excavator was both surprised, and rather horrified, that the uprights were essentially held in place only by the weight of the capstone: a “house of cards” effect (Frances Lynch pers. comm.). Stability was enhanced by infilling of the pit. At Garn Turne, pottery fragments were deposited on the bottom of the pit, and radiocarbon dates on charcoal came back as early Neolithic (3787–3656 cal BC (SUERC 43883) and 3761–3643 cal BC (SUERC 43884) at 23; calibration OxCal). This also suggests a range of associated activities surrounded the elevation of a stone.

This method of adding in the uprights would be an effective way of constructing a dolmen, but would not negate all problems. In some cases dolmen monuments would still be prone to collapse when the final chocks and supports were removed. Indeed, this seems to have happened at Garn Turne: the monument collapsed backwards after the underlying support had been removed but before all the uprights were in place.

At some monuments, a cairn may have been added around the monument once the uprights were in position. This could have happened straight away, many years later, or even many centuries later. It may also have varied from site to site: some sites may have seen the addition of large and high cairns, while others may have seen only low-level platform cairns. The debate surrounding the presence of a cairn will be difficult to resolve conclusively due to the subsequent remodelling and robbing of these sites. Nevertheless, the presence or absence of a cairn at these sites does not alter the suggested construction process outlined above, apart from to note that stone used during construction may have been subsequently redeployed as cairn material.

Discussion and conclusion

We have outlined a six-stage process for the construction of a dolmen monument which seems to be consistent with the archaeological evidence we have observed. If our suggestion is correct, one of the key components of dolmens was lifting and displaying a stone in situ. This supports two suggestions. Firstly, that the stones used as capstones may have been important in their own right, potentially including their precise location in relation to other landscape features (Cummings and Whittle 2004; Scarre 2009b, 4–5; Whittle 2004). Second, the presentation of the stones lifted up and supported on uprights was also of great significance. A corollary of this interpretation would be that these monuments were made from natural formations that were already known and which were important places in the landscape before they were transformed into monuments (see Bradley 1998; Tilley 1994; Whittle 2004). However, contrary to most accounts, we have provided substantial evidence that the capstones in dolmen monuments in Britain and Ireland were carefully shaped and dressed. All have a flat underside, created either by splitting the stone along a fault line, or – if this process was unsuccessful – by careful shaping through flaking or pecking. The capstones of dolmens, then, were transformed, and through their dramatic display such alterations would have been readily recognisable. This means that while dolmens may well have been partly inspired by natural rock formations, in their altered state they possessed a duality – the upper morphology natural and untouched while the basal surface was flat and dressed. The manner of presentation, elevated in the air, emphasised and exaggerated this duality to a wide audience.

We have also noted above that pit digging was an important part of the construction process. This was the second stage in construction – releasing the stone from the ground. Pit digging has been discussed more widely in relation to the Neolithic, particularly in relation to deposition (Anderson-Whymark and Thomas 2012). However, pit digging can be seen as part of a broader intensification of digging in the Neolithic, marked also by flint mining and the broader phenomenon of digging into, and altering, the earth (Bradley 1993; Whittle 1995). Certainly while under construction, but also for a considerable period afterwards, the landscape around a monument would have resembled a building site – clearances, timbers, spoil-heaps, fulcrum points, flakes of megalithic debris and so on. This would further enhance the fact that these sites were not natural formations (cf. Tilley 1996; Bradley 1998; Tilley and Bennett 2001). At Garn Turne, it is clear that the large pit was never completely filled in. Late Neolithic and Iron Age deposits were found in the upper levels of the silts infilling the pit, which is still visible today as a hollow. This is echoed at other sites such as Arthur’s Stone, illustrated above. This could suggest that the builders did not seek to conceal the leftovers of construction. Indeed, at some dolmen monuments, these sites saw subsequent constructional events. At Garn Turne the façade was clearly added on subsequently (we would suggest in the late Neolithic), and this has been hypothesised for Pentre Ifan, which also has a façade (Barker 1992, 24–26). Garn Turne saw further elaboration with the addition of multiple standing stones both around the main monument as well as in the immediate vicinity. Remnants of construction, then, may well have been left once a monument was standing. In some cases, construction was on-going, as sites were further added to or altered. In this respect it is necessary to reconsider construction as a process of facilitation. Building may therefore be conceived as one of the main purposes of monumentality. Rather than leading to completion, construction may be redefined as the deployment of strategic practices leading to the reconstitution of the social world. A corollary of this perspective is the imagery of monuments surrounded by the materials of their construction, monuments left unattended for long periods of time until they were re-appropriated by later generations.

It is also worth noting the speed at which the six-stage construction process outlined above could be achieved. Even taking into account the fact that many items would need to be acquired and accumulated before construction could begin, dolmen construction could have been achieved relatively rapidly. This could mean that instead of people repeatedly coming together year after year in order to build a site, as has been envisaged for other “monuments”, such as causewayed enclosures (e.g. Edmonds 1999), dolmens could have been built as a single event, albeit one spread out over multiple days. In this sense we could understand the construction process as an arena for social negotiations, interactions and display. The raising up of an enormous stone would have been an incredible visual spectacle. At Garn Turne, the capstone weighed around 85 tonnes: this was the largest stone ever to have been quarried and lifted in Britain. To successfully remove this stone from the earth and then raise it up would undoubtedly be recognised as a significant feat. Such a feat was situated in a Neolithic social mosaic whereby status and reputation may well have been negotiable, and we suggest partly articulated through monumental construction (also see Richards 2013). Unfortunately, such projects are not without social, symbolic and practical categories of risk, and in the case of Garn Turne this risk was brought dramatically into focus when the monument collapsed. Such an event was not merely inauspicious, but to the sponsoring or organising group, likely disastrous.

It should be clear that there was no need to use an 85 tonne capstone in order to create a functional chamber for the deposition of human skeletal remains. This observation provides a hint that initially, dolmen construction potentially had nothing to do with creating a burial space, but was a way of displaying stones that had been quarried and transformed. While Garn Turne certainly fulfils this criterion, the most extreme example of raising stones for purposes other than providing a roof for a burial chamber comes from Ireland. For example, the site of Achnacliffe, County Longford (Fig. 5.11), has an enormous capstone perched on top of a smaller “chamber” and single upright. Such imagery is not about creating a burial chamber; instead it is concerned with the display and celebration of an enormous stone, the labour necessary for the re-presentation, and the social conditions necessary for such a feat to be undertaken.

Acknowledgements

We would like to thank Luc Laporte and Chris Scarre for inviting us to attend the original conference in Rennes, and to contribute to this publication. The dolmen project has received financial support from the British Academy (Reckitt Fund) and the Royal Archaeological Institute. We would also like to thank Magdalena Midgley and the editors for comments on an earlier draft of this paper.

References

Anderson-Whymark, H. and Thomas, J. (eds.) 2012. Regional Perspectives on Neolithic Pit Deposition. Neolithic Studies Group Seminar Papers 12, Oxbow: Oxford.

Bakker, J. 2009. Hunebedden and Hünengräber: the construction of megalithic tombs west of the River Elbe. In: Scarre, C. (ed.) Megalithic Quarrying. Sourcing, Extracting and Manipulating the Stones. Archaeopress: Oxford, pp. 27–34.

Barker, C. 1992. The Chambered Tombs of South-west Wales: a reassessment of the Neolithic burial monuments of Carmarthenshire and Pembrokeshire. Oxbow: Oxford.

Barrett, J. 1994. Fragments from Antiquity: an archaeology of social life in Britain 2900–1200 BC. Blackwell: Oxford.

Bradley, R. 1993. Altering the Earth. Society of Antiquaries of Scotland: Edinburgh.

Bradley, R. 1998. Ruined buildings, ruined stones: enclosures, tombs and natural places in the Neolithic of south-west England. World Archaeology 30(1), pp. 13–22.

Cooney, G. 2011a. Introduction: transformations at the quarry face. World Archaeology 43(2), pp. 145–148.

Cooney, G. 2011b (ed.). Special Issue: new approaches to stone mines and quarries: materials and materiality. World Archaeology 43(2).

Cummings, V. 2009. A View from the West: the Neolithic of the Irish Sea zone. Oxbow: Oxford.

Cummings, V. and Richards, C. 2015. The essence of the dolmen: the architecture of megalithic construction. Préhistoires Méditerranéennes.

Cummings, V. and Whittle, A. 2004. Places of Special Virtue: megaliths in the Neolithic landscapes of Wales. Oxbow: Oxford.

Daniel, G. 1950. The Prehistoric Chamber Tombs of England and Wales. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge.

Daniel, G. 1963. The Megalith Builders of Western Europe. Pelican: Harmondsworth.

Darvill, T. and Wainwright, G. 2011. The stones of Stonehenge. Current Archaeology, 21(12), pp. 28–35.

Davis, V. and Edmonds, M. (eds) 2011. Stone Axes Studies 3. Oxbow: Oxford.

Edmonds, M. 1999. AncestralGgeographies of the Neolithic; landscapes, monuments and memory. Routledge: London.

Fleming, A. 2005. Megaliths and post-modernism: the case of Wales. Antiquity 79, pp. 921–932.

Grimes, W. 1948. Pentre Ifan burial chamber, Pembrokeshire. Archaeologia Cambrensis 100, pp. 3–23.

Henshall, A. S. 1963. The Chambered Tombs of Scotland Vol.1. Edinburgh University Press: Edinburgh.

Henshall, A. S. 1972. The Chambered Tombs of Scotland Vol. 2. Edinburgh University Press: Edinburgh.

Hoskins, J. 1986. So my name shall live: stone dragging and grave-building in Kodi, west Sumba. Bijdragen tot de Taal-Land-en Volkenkunde 142, pp. 31–51.

Joussaume, R. 1985. Dolmens for the Dead. Megalith Building Throughout the World. Guild: London.

Kytmannow, T. 2008. Portal Tombs in the Landscape: the chronology, morphology and landscape setting of the portal tombs of Ireland, Wales and Cornwall. BAR 455, Archaeopress: Oxford.

Lynch, F. 1975. Excavations at Carreg Samson megalithic tomb, Mathry, Pembrokeshire. Archaeologia Cambrensis 124, pp. 15–35.

Lynch, A. 2014. Poulnabrone: An Early Neolithic Portal Tomb in Ireland. Dublin: Wordwell.

McFadyen, L. 2006. Building technologies, quick and slow architectures and early Neolithic long barrow sites in southern Britain. Archaeological Review from Cambridge 21, pp. 70–81.

McFadyen, L. 2007. Making architecture. In: Benson, D., and Whittle, A. (eds), Building Memories: the Neolithic Cotswold long barrow at Ascott-under-Wychwood, Oxfordshire. Oxbow: Oxford, pp. 348–354.

Mens, E. 2008. Refitting megaliths in western France. Antiquity 82, pp. 25–36.

Ó Nualláin, S. 1983. Irish portal tombs: topography, siting and distribution. Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 113, pp. 75–105.

Parker Pearson, M., Pollard, J., Richards, C., Thomas, J., Welham, K., Bevins, R., Ixer, R., Marshall, P. and Chamberlain, A. 2011. Stonehenge: controversies of the bluestones. In: García Sanjuán, L., Scarre, C. and Wheatley, D. W. (eds) Exploring Time and Matter in Prehistoric Monuments. Menga: Journal of Andalusian Prehistory Monograph 1. Junta de Andalucía: Seville, pp. 219–250.

Piggott, S. 1954. Neolithic Cultures of the British Isles. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge.

Powell, T. G. E. 1973. Excavations at the megalithic chambered cairn at Dyffryn Ardudwy, Merioneth, Wales. Archaeologia 104, pp. 1–50.

Rees, S. 2012. Excavations at Carreg Coetan Arthur chambered tomb, Pembrokeshire. Archaeologia Cambrensis 161, pp. 51–163.

Richards, C. 2004a. A choreography of construction: monuments, mobilization and social organization in Neolithic Orkney. In: Cherry, J., Scarre, C. and Shennan, S. (eds) Explaining Social Change: studies in honour of Colin Renfrew. McDonald Institute Monographs: Cambridge, pp. 103–113.

Richards, C. 2004b. Labouring with monuments: constructing the dolmen at Carreg Samson, south-west Wales. In: Cummings, V. and Fowler, C. (eds) The Neolithic of the Irish Sea: materiality and traditions of practice. Oxbow: Oxford, pp. 72–80.

Richards, C. 2009. Building the great stone circles of the north: questions of materiality and social identity. In: O’Connor, B., Cooney, G. and Chapman, J. (eds) Materialitas: working stone, carving identities. Prehistoric Society Research Papers 4: Oxford, pp. 54–63.

Richards, C. (ed.) 2013. Building the Great Stone Circles of the North. Windgather Press: Oxford.

Richards, C., Brown, J., Jones, S., Muir, T. and Hall, A. 2013. Monumental risk: megalithic quarrying at Staneyhill and Vestra Fiold, Mainland, Orkney. In: Richards, C. (ed.) Building the Great Stone Circles of the North. Windgather Press: Oxford, pp. 119–148.

Scarre, C. (ed.) 2009a. Megalithic Quarrying. Sourcing, extracting and manipulating the stones. BAR S1923, Archaeopress: Oxford.

Scarre, C. 2009b. Stony ground: outcrops, rocks and quarries in the creation of megalithic monuments. In: Scarre, C. (ed.) Megalithic Quarrying. Sourcing, extracting and manipulating the stones. BAR S1923, Archaeopress: Oxford, pp. 3–20.

Sheridan, A. 2003. French connections I: spreading the marmites thinly. In: Armit, I., Murphy, E., Neils, E. and Simpson, D. (eds.) Neolithic Settlement in Ireland and Western Britain. Oxbow: Oxford, pp. 3–17.

Tilley, C. 1994. A Phenomenology of Landscape. Berg: Oxford.

Tilley, C. 1996. The powers of rocks: topography and monument construction on Bodmin Moor. World Archaeology 28, pp. 161–176.

Tilley, C. and Bennett, W. 2001. An archaeology of supernatural places: the case of West Penwith. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 7, pp. 335–362.

Whittle, A. 1995. Gifts from the earth: symbolic dimensions of the use and production of Neolithic flint and stone axes. Archaeologia Polona 33, pp. 247–259.

Whittle, A. 2004. Stones that float to the sky: portal dolmens and their landscapes of memory and myth. In: Cummings, V. and Fowler, C. (eds) The Neolithic of the Irish Sea: materiality and traditions of practice. Oxbow: Oxford, 81–90.

Whittle, A., Healy F. and Bayliss, A. 2011. Gathering Time: dating the early Neolithic enclosures of southern Britain and Ireland. Oxbow: Oxford.