The service in the Mediterranean was one of multiplied details, individually too unimportant for history, yet calculated to influence materially the progress and result of the war.  Along the eastern coast of Spain, the support and co-operation of the ships afforded that encouragement to the inhabitants which in the western provinces they derived from the presence of the British army.  Even when the fortresses had fallen, and Spain had no longer a force for a rallying point in that part of the country, the guerillas, acting in concert with the fleet, were enabled to perform exploits which alarmed and distressed the invader, and kept alive the spirit of hope and resolution.  Along the shores of Italy and France, the most daring and brilliant enterprises were continually achieved.  Batteries and forts were stormed in open day, and prizes, sometimes in whole convoys, carried off from anchorages where they seemed to be unassailable.  Looking at the evident danger of such attempts, one is astonished at the constant success which attended them, and at the generally inconsiderable loss sustained.  It would be unjust to the courage of the enemy, and still more to that of the gallant officers and men who performed such services, not to state the cause of this impunity and success.  It was not that the defences on shore were feebly maintained, or that their defenders were surprised and overpowered by the reckless desperation of the assailants; but that the different boat attacks were planned with a judgment, and supported by a force, which prevented effectual resistance.  Officers such as Hoste, Gordon, Rowley, Maxwell, Duncan, Ussher, and indeed all, for no commander ever placed more general and deserved confidence in his officers than Sir Edward Pellew, were not men to send away their people on doubtful and desperate services.  The Admiral himself, much as he admired enterprise, strongly discouraged all acts of useless daring.  He was always most unwilling to risk men’s lives in boat attacks, when they could not be supported by the fire from the ships; and when his own boats were necessarily detached on service, his anxiety for their safety was very great.  But the men, who saw in these successes only the daring courage which obtained, but not the considerate judgment which planned them, learned to fancy themselves invincible, and would go to what might appear a death service, as if it were an excursion of pleasure.  The crew of the Imperieuse, who had often distinguished themselves in these attacks, petitioned their captain to remain with them, when he had been appointed to a finer ship, and offered to prove their attachment to him by taking any two French frigates they could meet.  It is right to add, that their captain, a son of the great and good Lord Duncan, submitted their petition to Sir Edward Pellew, who continued him with his faithful followers.  “You are a brave nation,” said Napoleon at Elba to an English captain, one of Sir Edward’s officers, “so are the French; but the English are individually brave.”  Services like these create the individual bravery which Napoleon admired.