During the desperate civil war in Spain, Carteia seems to have been the naval headquarters of Cneius Pompeius, who fled thither after his severe defeat at Munda, but was compelled to abandon it through the disaffection of a large portion of its inhabitants, B.C. 45. Betaking himself to the forests, he was discovered by his pursuers. Weary and desperate, he flung himself at the foot of a tree, where he was speedily overtaken, and killed after a miserable struggle. At the death of Julius Cæsar, Sextus Pompeius collected his adherents at Carteia, from which he marched at the head of six legions. This is the last incident of any importance in its history. It appears gradually to have sunk into decay; its port was forsaken, its commerce disappeared. After the Moorish invasion its masses of masonry were used as a quarry for the erection of the Torre de Carthagena, and the Spaniards afterwards pillaged them for their town of San Roque. Hence its remains are now of small extent. Corn grows upon the site of the once populous and wealthy city; and the ruins of its theatre are the only memorials of its glory. The city walls may also be traced; they ran parallel with the river, and then crossed the high ground to the sea-shore. The ancient harbour was within the river-mouth, the entrance to which is now obstructed by a bar. It is very narrow, and easily rendered impracticable for hostile ships. Livy records that when Varus, Pompey’s admiral, was defeated off the Rock by Didius, he withdrew to the harbour of Carteia, and fixed a number of anchors or grapnels across its mouth. Against these the ships of Didius struck, when they attempted to enter; and by this simple expedient Varus saved his entire fleet from destruction. Two hundred years ago the ancient mole, with its solid Roman work, was almost entire; and the ruins of many splendid buildings still existed. No statues or art-relics have been found; but as Carteia was allowed the privilege of a mint, the coins dug up have been numerous and interesting. An extensive tunny-fishery formerly existed at Carteia. * * * * * Returning to Gibraltar, we find that there are still two or three of its “lions” to be inspected. We have visited neither St. Martin’s Cave nor the Galleries. The former is reached by a path not to be recommended to any but the firm of foot and clear of brain. It passes the Jews’ Cemetery, and then climbs the eastern side of the Rock, until it reaches a craggy buttress, which overhangs a tremendous abyss, and commands a fine view of the southern precipices. Standing there, the adventurous [Illustration: MARTIN’S CAVE. _Page 136._ ] spectator takes in a panorama of the Strait from Europa Point to Ceuta, with the lighthouse rearing its white tower on the wave-washed promontory, and the white surf of the Atlantic breaking in ripples on the Mediterranean current.