to-be-desired, Far Eastern commodities, and the contrast between the Asiatic and the European price levels was an additional spur to every ambitious merchant. Clearly the caravan drivers of Arabia and the Near East were the real profiteers of the day, charging inordinately for their services in transporting goods.

For two hundred years after the return of the Polos, Venice continued to thrive. Europe continued to pay the exorbitant carriage charges demanded by the Eastern traders, and in addition a good profit to the enterprising Venetian middlemen. The Italians in general, and especially the Genoese and Venetians, continued to monopolize this trade.

L

But two hundred years and more is a long time, as affairs in this world go, for a monopoly to last, and before the decline of Venice really started, the first signs of energetic competition were beginning to appear. From time immemorial the Mediterranean had been the great highway of maritime trade, so much so that even the Atlantic ports of Europe were connected with the Mediterranean and the East, rather than with the unknown Southwest and West. But the gradual growth of Europe was producing some new states in the Iberian peninsula, and in them were to be found both rulers and sailors eager to try their fortunes on the little-used Atlantic. By the beginning of the fifteenth century, Portugal was already recognized as a rising maritime nation, and before 1500 Spain had taken the momentous step which made Portuguese achievements pale into insignificance. The primary aim of these Atlantic states was to secure some of the Eastern trade for themselves, an aim which Portugal at least achieved. And in the desire not to be outdone by her smaller neighbor, Spain accidentally made possible the discovery of America. Thus did rivalry over Eastern trade pave the way to a new world.

In all that profitable intercourse with the East, which had made Venice the foremost commercial city of Southern Europe, Portugal had gained but little. And yet her natural interests drew her toward the sea. Portuguese ports afforded ample facilities for commerce, and her citizens were in no way inferior to the Italians. Moreover, her possibilities for development in the Iberian peninsula had been closed by the spectacular rise of Castile, so if growth was to come at

all, it must come by way of the sea. She could, however, hardly expect to participate extensively in Mediterranean commerce, because she faced out upon the Atlantic, directly away from the established lines.

Barred by circumstances from expansion in Europe and by location from any great Mediterranean trade, Portugal turned her attention to Africa. Early in the fifteenth century the Portuguese government succeeded in establishing a foothold in the northwestern section of the Dark Continent, and these military successes were planned as the prelude to commercial activity. Caravans traveling northward from the unknown interior brought tales of wealth, less glowing to be sure than those from the Far East, but full of promise for enterprising merchants. Besides stories, they brought samples of the wealth itself, gold, ivory, and negro slaves, all of which were to be had at absurdly low prices if one could penetrate sufficiently far to the south. But overland trade was expensive, as the customers of these caravan drivers had ample opportunity to learn. Why not, so the Portuguese began to ask themselves, attempt to tap this trade at its source, not by means of caravans, but more directly, by sea? Fortunately, Portugal had in the person of the king's brother, Prince Henry, the Navigator, a man with both the enthusiasm and the means to make the trial. Actively interested in the development of his country, and filled with the genuine zeal of the modern "promoter," the Prince devoted his life to fathoming the possibilities of African trade. In some respects he had the qualities of the modern scientist, especially in his careful preparations, and in his unbounded thirst for knowledge. Although he was not an explorer himself, he made exploration his life work. Freed from the burden of earning a living, because he belonged to the royal house, untied by family responsibilities, because he was a bachelor, and saved from the cares of state, because he was a younger son, Henry had the making of his career entirely in his own hands.

At Sagres, on Cape St. Vincent, the Prince established a school for the study of geography and navigation. Because of his fame he was able to secure, as students, or teachers, or both, some of the best-known sailors and geographers in Europe. And these enterprising leaders were not satisfied merely to pore over maps. They were engaged in making maps and charts of their own, and in trying out new designs in shipbuilding. As a result of their investigations

and experiments, every new expedition which went out was better equipped than its predecessor.

Before 1450, the Portuguese had planted colonies in the Madeira and Cape Verde Islands, and, what was more to the point for them, they had opened up trade with Central Africa, by way of the Atlantic coast. The actual time of Henry's work lay between 1418 and 1460, but the impetus which he gave to African exploration continued until long after his death. By 1471, captains trained under him had reached the equator. Fifteen years later, Bartholomew Diaz rounded the southern end of Africa, which he called the Cape of Good Hope, because it opened the way to the much-desired East. In 1496, Vasco da Gama reached the goal itself and by so doing demonstrated not only the existence, but the entire practicability of an all-sea connection with the Indies.

The significance of that achievement is sometimes overlooked. It was something of course to discover a new route. From the Portuguese standpoint, it was something more to have established all-water connections with the storehouse of Eastern wealth, and to be able to make such drastic price cuts in the spice business that the European world came to them to buy. But it comes to few men, as it came to Vasco da Gama, to upset the established routes of untold centuries, to make what had been the broad highway of maritime commerce a mere tributary to infinitely greater lines of trade, and to give to the world two broad oceans to travel over, in place of a mere inland sea. When European traders began to use the Atlantic and Indian Oceans, and before long the Pacific as well, Venetian prosperity and Venetian greatness steadily ebbed away. Then, as the Atlantic cities came into their own, history unfolded one of the most engrossing pageants of all time, the rivalry of great nations for the possession of a new world.

COLUMBUS

Naturally Portugal was not left alone and unchallenged to enjoy her fame and her growing wealth. Before the end of the fifteenth century, the Spanish government had practically completed its task of unifying and consolidating its domain. While the two sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella, were still flushed with enthusiasm over the success of their work, the discoveries of the Portuguese opened for them the way to even greater achievements. And yet it may well be

doubted whether they would have seen this opportunity, had it not been for the stubborn persistence of a Genoese sailor.

The story of Columbus is too familiar to require more than a notice here. Interested from his early youth in maps and in navigation, he

spent some time in Prince Henry's school, and married the daughter of one of Prince Henry's captains. He was blessed with an original mind, which enabled him, in the words of a famous American manufacturer, "to think cross lots," to work toward new theories, unhampered by fixed notions of the past. And, granted that his premises had any soundness in them, his idea was so simple as to seem almost absurd. Why not beat the Portuguese, as the Portuguese had beaten the Venetians, by using the sea? And why not improve upon the Portuguese course, by sailing in a straight line, instead of in

something like a long parabola? Simple enough, to be sure. But, so stubborn was mankind, and so devoid of imagination, that it took the genius, as it always does, years to convert the ordinary human being.

Finally, Columbus got the commission he wanted, authorizing him to try the experiment, and incidentally to discover new lands on the way. He was made vice-admiral, and governor of lands that he might find. If he achieved the success which he wanted, he was to have one tenth of all precious metal secured. Not a bad bargain, provided he could actually reach the Indies.

But neither the first, nor any one of the three following voyages which he made, brought him either wealth or immediate fame. Whatever he may have found, he certainly did not reach the Indies, and his employers were as much disgusted as he was disappointed. As a matter of fact, his real achievement was, if anything, greater than da Gama's, yet because he was so obsessed with the sense of failure, he did not take the trouble to attach his name to his discoveries. Because Columbus was looking for spices and found none, it remained for Americus Vespucius, who was looking for fame, and found it, to get the credit for first reaching a new world. It was no solace to Columbus that posterity should elevate him to his rightful place in the list of explorers. And again, it is no detraction from his greatness to show that even if he had never sailed, the Portuguese Cabral would have reached the new world purely by accident, as he did in 1500. Columbus has all the credit which goes to the pioneer in a new field. By the end of the fifteenth century, therefore, two of the Atlantic powers had succeeded in reaching worlds hitherto closed to Europeans. And so, that there might be no risk of losing whatever value Columbus's much-criticized discovery might have, the Spanish government turned to the Church, the only international authority of the day, for a title to its new property. It so happened that at this time the only Spaniard who has ever held the papal office, Alexander VI, was then at the climax of his power, hence the request of the two sovereigns was granted. The pope gave to Spain the lands already discovered under her auspices, and any that might be so found in the future, provided only that such lands were not, and had not been, in the hands of any Christian power. The pope issued another bull, in the same year, fixing a line one hundred leagues west of the Azores, beyond which other nations were not to be allowed to establish claims.