* * *
The head of the servants, Fujii Mataemon, came running in and called Tokochiro, who was resting inside the hut. "Monkey, come quickly."
"What is it?"
"You've been summoned!"
"Huh?"
"The master suddenly asked about you and ordered me to call you. Have you done anything wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Well, anyway, come quickly," Fujii urged him, and ran off in an unexpected direction. Something had set Nobunaga thinking that day as he inspected the storehpuses, kitchens, and the firewood and charcoal warehouses.
"I've brought him along." Fujii prostrated himself as his lord walked by. Nobunaga stopped.
"Ah, you've brought him?" His eyes stopped on the figure of Tokichiro waiting behind him.
"Monkey, come forward."
"My lord?"
"From today I'm appointing you to the kitchens."
"Thank you very much, my lord."
"The kitchens aren't a place where you can distinguish yourself with a spear , but rather than a glorious place on the battlefield, it is an especially important part of our defenses. I know I don't have to tell you, but work hard."
His rank and stipend were immediately raised. As a kitchen official, he was no a servant. Being transferred to the kitchens, however, was then considered shameful for a samurai and was thought of as a downward slide in one's fortunes: "He has finally wound up in the kitchens." Kitchen duty was held in contempt by fighting men, as a sort of refuse heap for men of little ability. Even the other household servants and the attendants of the samurai looked down upon an appointment to the kitchen, and to the younger samurai it was a place of no opportunity or prospect for advancement. Mataemon sympathized with him and comforted him.
"Monkey, you've been transferred to a duty of little account, and I imagine that you're not satisfied. But since your stipend has been increased, instead shouldn't you consider that you've advanced in the world a bit? As a sandal bearer, though the position is a low one, there are times when you work before the master's horse, and there is some hope of promotion. On the other hand, you might have to give up your life. If you're in the kitchens, you don't have to worry about that. You can't sell the cow and keep the milk too.
Tokichiro nodded and answered, "Yes, yes." But privately he was not in the least bit disappointed. On the contrary, he was very pleased that he had received an unhoped-for promotion from Nobunaga. When he started work in the kitchens, the first things that struck him were the gloom, damp, and filth. The down-at-heel men who prepared the meals, who never saw the sun even at noon, and the old head cook had worked without a break for years in the smell of seaweed broth.
This won't do at all, Tokichiro told himself gloomily. He could not stand to be in depressing places. How about cutting a large window in that wall over there, to let in air and light? he thought. But there was a way of doing things in the kitchen, and since the man in charge was an old-timer, everything was a problem. Tokichiro quietly checked how much of the dried fish was bad, and examined the supplies that the merchants brought in daily. After he was put in charge, the suppliers retained by the castle were soon much happier.
"Somehow, when I'm not shouted at all the time, I can't help but bring in better goods and lower my prices," said one merchant.
"Up against you, Master Kinoshita, a merchant is put to shame. Why, you know the going rate for dried vegetables, dried fish, and grains! You've got a sharp eye with the goods, too. It makes us happy that you're so clever at laying up a stock of goods so cheaply," said another.
Tokichiro laughed and said, "Nonsense, I'm not a merchant, so where's the skill or the lack of it? This is not a matter of my making a profit. It's simply that the goods you supply go to feed my master's men. Life comes from what one eats. So how much, then, does the survival of this castle depend on the food prepared in the kitchen? It's the object of our service to give them the best we can." From time to time he gave tea to his suppliers, and as they relaxed, he would explain things during the conversation.
"You're merchants, so every time you deliver a cartload of goods for the castle, you immediately think how much profit you're going to make. And while it's not likely that you'll lose out, what do you suppose would happen if our castle fell into the hands of an enemy province? Wouldn't long years of billing be lost in both principal and interest? And if a general from another province took the castle, the merchants that came along with him would take over your business. So if you think of the master's clan as the root, we, as the branches, will continue to prosper. Isn't this the way we should think of profit? Therefore, short-term profit on the supplies you bring to the castle is not in your long- term interest."
Tokichiro was also considerate to the old head cook. He asked for the old man's opinions even when matters were clear-cut. He obeyed him, even if it went against his own judgment. But there were those among his colleagues who spread malicious gossip wished to be rid of him.
"He's such a busybody."
"He sticks his nose into everything."
"He's a make-work little monkey."
When someone makes waves, he's bound to attract the resentment of others, so Tokichiro generally treated such gossip with indifference. His scheme for remodeling kitchens was approved by both the head cook and Nobunaga. He had a carpenter open a vent in the ceiling and cut a large window into the wall. The sewage system was also rebuilt following his plans. Morning and evening, the sun shone brightly into the kitchens of Kiyosu Castle, which for decades had been so dark that food was cooked by candlelight even at noon. A refreshing breeze also blew through.
He expected the grumbling:
"Food spoils easily."
"You can see the dust."
Tokichiro ignored these complaints. After that, the place became clean; if people saw waste, they reduced it. A year later, the kitchens had become a bright and airy place with a lively atmosphere, just like his own character.
That winter, Murai Nagato, who had until then been overseer of charcoal and firewood, was relieved of his post, and Tokichiro was appointed to succeed him. Why had Nagato been sacked? And why had he himself been promoted to the post of overseer of charcoal and firewood? Tokichiro considered both of these questions when he received posting from Nobunaga. Aha! Lord Nobunaga wanted to save more on charcoal and firewood. Yes, those were his orders last year, but it seems that Murai Nagato's style of economy did not please him.
His new duties took him all over the large castle compound, to all the places charcoal and firewood were used: in the offices, the rest huts, the side rooms, inside and out, wherever fires were built in the winter in the large hearths cut into the floors. Especially in servants' quarters and the barracks of the young samurai, charcoal was piled high in grates, as evidence of unnecessary expense.
"It's Master Kinoshita! Master Kinoshita's here!"
"Who's this Kinoshita?"
"Master Kinoshita Tokichiro, who's been appointed overseer of charcoal and firewood. He's making the rounds with a grim look on his face."
"Ah, that monkey?"
"Do something with the ashes!"
The young samurai hurriedly covered up the red coals with ashes, put what was black into the coal scuttle, and looked very pleased with themselves.
"Are you all here?" When Tokichiro came in, he squeezed his way in through the group and warmed his own hands over the hearth. "My unworthy self has been commanded to oversee charcoal and firewood supplies. I'd be grateful for your help."
The young samurai glanced at each other nervously. Tokichiro took up the large metal tongs that had been placed in the hearth.
"Isn't it cold this year? Covering up the live coals like this… you can't keep warm by just heating your fingers." He dug up some red coals. "Shouldn't you be more generous with the charcoal? I understand that until now the amount of charcoal to be used in each room daily was fixed, but it's dreary to be economical with heat. Use it fully, please. Come to the storehouse and
take as much as you need."
He went to the barracks of the foot soldiers and the attendants of the samurai, encouraging the use of plenty of charcoal and firewood by the people who, until then, had shrunk before the exhortations to economize!
"He's being awfully generous in his position this time, isn't he? Perhaps Master Monkey has let his sudden promotion go to his head. But if we follow him too much, we may get a scolding the like of which we've never had until now."
No matter how liberal he was, the retainers set their own limits.
The expenses for one year's firewood and charcoal at Kiyosu Castle exceeded one thousand bushels of rice. Huge amounts of timber were cut and turned into ashes every year. For the two years of Murai Nagato's tenure, there had been no savings at all. On the contrary, expenses had increased. Worst of all, his calls to economize only depressed and annoyed the retainers. The first thing Tokichiro did was to release the retainers from this oppression. He then went before Nobunaga and made the following proposal: "In the winter, the younger samurai, foot soldiers, and servants spend their days indoors eating, drinking, and idly chatting. Before economizing on charcoal and firewood, I would humbly suggest that Your Lordship take steps to correct these bad habits."
Nobunaga quickly gave orders to his senior retainers. They called together the head of the servants and the commander of the foot soldiers and discussed the peacetime duties of retainers: the repair of armor, lectures, the practice of Zen meditation, and inspection tours around the province. Then, most important, training in firearm and spear techniques, engineering projects in the castle and for the servants, when they had time, the shoeing of horses. The reason? Not to give them leisure. To a military commander, his samurai retainers were as dear as his own children. The bond between lord and retainers, who had pledged themselves absolutely, was as strong as that between blood relatives.
On the day of battle, these were the people who would give up their lives before his very eyes. If he did not hold them dear, or if that affection and benevolence were not felt, there would be no brave soldiers dying for him. Therefore, during peacetime it was very easy for a lord to be too generous—against the day of battle.
Nobunaga had the daily routine strictly enforced, leaving his retainers no leisure time. At the same time, he made the serving women who looked after the housekeeping go through training and even practice being confined in a castle under siege, so that he established a daily regimen of no leisure from morning till night. This, of course, went for himself as well.
When Tokichiro was there, he would cheer up.
"Monkey, how have things been recently?"
"Good! I've seen the effect of your orders, but you have a way to go."
"It's still not enough?"
"There's still much more."
"Is something still lacking?"
"The way things are done in the castle has yet to be introduced among the towns-people."
"Hm. I see." Nobunaga listened to Tokichiro. His retainers always made bitter faes and looked askance at this. There were few examples of someone like Tokichiro, who, in such a short space of time, had risen from the servants' barracks to sitting in his lord’s presence, and even fewer cases of someone going before the lord and speaking his own recommendations. Naturally, they frowned as though this were the same as some outrageous act. Nevertheless, the yearly consumption of charcoal and firewood, which had been over a thousand bushels, was significantly reduced by midwinter.
Since the retainers had no spare time, they no longer idled around the hearth, wasting charcoal. Even when there was some leisure time, because the men were moving their bodies and continually exercising their muscles, fires naturally became unnecessary and fuel was only used in cooking. The fuel formerly used in one month was now enough last for three months.
Nevertheless, Tokichiro was not satisfied that he had carried out his duties to the fullest. The contracts for charcoal and firewood were awarded in the summer for the following year. At the head of a group of castle suppliers, he set out to make the annual survey, which until then had been a mere formality. The officials in charge had never gone beyond asking how many of this kind of oak were on this mountain, and how many of that kind on that mountain. With the suppliers acting as his guides, Tokichiro conscientiously took note of everything he saw. He believed he could understand the conditions on the farms and in the towns, but, lacking experience, he could not even guess how much fuel could be got from a single mountain. And he had to admit that the finer points of buying charcoal and firewood were beyond him.
Like other officials before him, he went through the motions of the survey, mumbling, "Hm, hm. Is that so? I see, I see." Following custom, the day ended with the suppliers inviting the official to a banquet at the house of a local magnate. Much of the time was spent exchanging small talk.
"Thank you for coming out all this way."
"We haven't got very much, but please make yourself at home."
"We hope you'll favor us with your custom in the future."
One after another, they flattered Tokichiro. Naturally, attractive young women served the sake. They were constantly beside him, rinsing his cup, refilling it, and offering him one delicacy after another. He only had to express a wish and it was fulfilled.
“This is good sake," he said. He was in a good mood; there was no reason not to be. The perfume of the serving girls charmed his senses. "They're all beautiful," he said. “Each and every one."
“Does your honor like women?" one of the suppliers asked lightheartedly.
Tokichiro replied very seriously, "I like both women and sake. Everything in the world is good. But if you're not careful, even good things can turn against you."
"Please feel free to enjoy the sake and the young flowers, too."
"I'll do just that. By the way, you seem hesitant to talk business, so I'll break the ice. Would you show me the tree ledger for the mountain we were on today?" They brought it in for his inspection. "Ah, it's very detailed," he observed. "Are there no discrepancies in the number of trees?"
"None whatsoever," they assured him.
"It says here that eight hundred bushels were delivered to the castle. Can that much charcoal and firewood come from such a small mountain?"
"That's because demand was less than the year before. Yes, that's the amount from the mountain we surveyed today."
The next morning, when the merchants presented themselves to pay their respects, they were told that Tokichiro had gone off to the mountain before daybreak. They set off after him. When they caught up with him, he was supervising a group of foot soldiers and local farmers and woodsmen. Each man had a bundle of ropes cut to about a meter in length. They tied one length of rope to every tree. Knowing that they had started out with a given number of ropes, when they finished and did their calculations, they could count the total number of trees. Checking the number of trees against the figures in the ledger, Tokichiro suspected there had been an overcharge of almost one-third.
He seated himself on a tree stump. "Call the suppliers over here," he told one of his men.
The fuel dealers prostrated themselves before him, their hearts racing at the prospect of what was to come. No matter how many surveys of the mountains were conducted, the number of standing trees was not a fact that could be easily determined by an amateur, and, in fact, the overseers of fuel supplies had always taken the amount recorded in the ledger at face value—swallowed it whole, so to speak. Now the suppliers were faced with an official who was not going to be taken in.
"Isn't there a large discrepancy between the number in this ledger and the actual number of trees?"
They answered yes, but hesitantly and full of apprehension.
"What do you mean, 'yes’? What's the reason for this? You're forgetting the many years you've reaped His Lordship's patronage. Aren't you being ungrateful, deceitful, and complacent, and isn't your sole interest in making a profit? It seems you've put your lies in writing and you've been gree
dy."
"Isn't that a bit too strong, your honor?"
"The numbers are different. I'm asking why. Judging from the records, only sixty or seventy bushels out of a hundred ordered—that's only six or seven hundred out of a thousand— are actually delivered to the warehouses."
"No, well, er, with that sort of reasoning—"
"Silence! There's no excuse for men who've been supplying fuel from these mountains to have engaged in this kind of huge deception year after year. If I am right, you're guilty of deceiving officials and defrauding the provincial treasury."
"We-we hardly know what to say."
"You could be convicted for what you've done and have all your possessions confiscated. However, former officials have also been guilty of neglect. I'll let it pass just this once… but on the following condition: you must correctly state the number of trees. The figures you submit in writing had better correspond exactly with the facts. Is that clear?
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"There's one other condition."
"Your Excellency?"
"There is an old saying, 'if you cut one tree, you should plant ten.' From what I have seen on these mountains since yesterday, trees are felled every year, but virtually none are being planted. If this continues, there'll be floods and the paddies and other field at the foot of the mountains will be devastated. The province will be weakened, and when the province declines, you will be the ones to suffer. If you want to make real profits, if you hope for true wealth for your families and desire happiness for your descendants, shouldn't you first make your province strong?"
"Yes," they agreed.
"As a tax and a punishment for your greed, from this time forth, every time you cut down a thousand trees, you are, without fail, to plant five thousand seedlings. This is a strict order. Do you agree?"
"We're very grateful. If you will let us off on those terms, we swear the seedlings will be planted."
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 20