To the peaceful mariner who wished merely to trade, to the individual whose
business called him overseas, this epoch must have been one of terror
unspeakable. The ordinary perils of the deep were quite enough to keep
timid folk at home in those days of clumsy, ill-found sailing ships, which
could by no means work to windward, and did not sail remarkably well even
with the most favouring breezes; when to this we add that every ship which
started on a voyage in the Mediterranean had before her the chance of being
captured by the corsairs, it was no wonder that he whose business led him
oversea should make his last will and testament and bid a fond farewell to
all his relatives.

There is a record in the Mémoires of the Rev. Frère Pierre d'An, Bachelier
en Théologie de la Faculté de Paris, etc., who wrote in a most heartfelt
manner concerning the danger of the sea and the perils to be expected from
the Barbary corsairs. He says, date 1637:

"An ancient writer, considering how little assurance can ordinarily be
placed in the sea, and how hazardous it is to expose oneself and one's
goods to its mercy, has remarked, with much reason, that it is
infinitely preferable to be poor on shore than to be rich at sea. In
which saying he mocks indeed at those ambitious, avaricious, and
mercenary men who, in order to gain false glory and the things of this
world, expose themselves rashly to the manifest perils which are most of
the time the inevitable lot of the seaman. This same consideration
causes him also to utter these remarkable words: that he repents himself
of but one thing, and that is ever to have travelled by sea when it was
possible to have done so by land. And, to say truth, he has good reason
to speak as he does, because it is impossible for the most hardy
navigators not to tremble with fear when it is represented before their