them and returned to find their cargoes of silks, precious stones, spices, and perfumed woods selling at substantially higher prices than when they left.
In England, trade burgeoned within an aristocratic society headed by a royal family. Unlike Spain, where the hidalgos disdained anyone connected with trade and used their influence to keep tradesmen in their proper place, many an English gentleman was attracted to profit-seeking ventures. The established order in England was hierarchical and open at the same time. There was a fluidity in society not found elsewhere. Another unusual feature marked the English nobility: Only the firstborn son inherited the family title whether that title be duke, count, marquess, or baron.
Where Spain, Portugal, and France had an aristocracy of blood, the English nobility was narrowed to a single male line. The eldest sons carried the family title, and his siblings were considered commoners. The lines between titled nobles and other members of the elite were loosely drawn. Winston Churchill, for instance, was the younger son of the Duke of Marlborough, but still a commoner. Another striking contrast between England and France lay in the concept of derogation, in which a nobleman in France could lose his title by engaging in trade, unlike in England, where a large contingent of the aristocracy took an interest in economic investments without any risk of losing status.
The joint-stock trading companies were a financing novelty that appealed to a wide variety of people with money. Borrowed from the Italians, this form of corporate enterprise was unknown in Spain or Portugal. Unlike the merchant companies composed of active traders, members of a joint-stock trading company subscribed to a certain number of shares in the company. For the English gentleman or woman here was a chance to become a part of a profitable venture without taking an active part in it. Dozens of such joint-stock companies, with royal charters, were pushing out the boundaries of interregional trade.
Members of the English aristocracy showed a decided preference for companies that established colonies or pioneered trades that would enhance England’s status in the world. Commerce had champions in the highest circles of society, and the House of Commons included merchants among its members. Because of this, English law changed faster than the glacial pace set elsewhere. The protection of private property, secured in England centuries earlier, became flexible enough to include the new forms of intellectual property, like inventions. The 1624 Statute of Monopolies established that patents for new devices would be granted for fourteen years, striking a balance between the inventor’s reward and the public’s access to useful devices. The law recognized new forms of property like company shares to encourage investors to risk their money.
A peculiar dynamic of the emerging world commerce revealed itself most strikingly in England’s first colony, that fragile outpost of European life established by the Virginia Company on the far side of the Atlantic. With Spain as their example, the investors expected to realize rich profits in gold and silver and, if not that, in spices, sandalwood, and pearls. Each shareholder had a vote in the company’s annual meeting in London, and all paid for their shares in installments. As it turned out, the initial investment of men and equipment sent over in 1607 was quickly exhausted. The colonists at Jamestown found little of value to send back home. Failure followed failure; the death rate was appalling. Shareholders stopped paying for their shares. The company turned to a lottery to raise more money and began distributing the one asset it had, land. At this juncture, one of the colonists, John Rolfe, who is remembered as the serious young Englishman who married the Indian princess Pocahontas, successfully hybridized a tobacco strain, which he christened Orinoco. Orinoco was good enough to