CATALAN BAY FROM THE MEDITERRANEAN BATTERY.
whom they were effectually dismantled. This is at least un fait accompli, and they never ought to be allowed to be rebuilt, adds Ford, since to raise works before a fortress is a declaration of war; and as Buonaparte’s announced intention was to take Gibraltar, Sir Colin Campbell (afterwards Lord Clyde) was perfectly justified in clearing them away, even without leave or license from the Spaniards. It was fortunate for many Spaniards that Campbell effected this work of destruction, for thus General Ballasteros was saved from annihilation, when the French pursued him and his undisciplined mob of troops, by skulking under our guns. Yet no sooner was Ferdinand VII. replaced on the throne of Spain by British arms, than this man urged him to reconstruct the lines as both dangerous and offensive to England. Thereupon said General Don to the Spanish commander at Algesiras, “If you begin, I will fire a gun; if that won’t do, I shall fire another; and if you persevere, you shall have a broadside from the galleries.” So the lines were never rebuilt.
Carteia was in old days a Phœnician colony, situated at the point where the river Guadaranque enters Gibraltar Bay, and forms a small but sheltered port. The Phœnicians called it Melcarthes, in honour of their tutelary god, the African Hercules; and for centuries it flourished as the emporium of a very extensive commerce. Having fallen into the hands of the Romans, it was renamed Carteia; and it is mentioned in the annals of the Second Punic War as an important naval station, and the scene of a great sea-fight, in which Lælius defeated the Carthaginian Hadherbal, B.C. 206. Thirty-five years later, the Roman senate assigned it as a place of residence to upwards of four thousand men, the offspring of Roman soldiers and Spanish women, who had been manumitted by the prætor L. Canubius. They amalgamated with such of the inhabitants as chose to remain, and their city was declared a Latina colonia libertinorum. Such is Livy’s statement.
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.