Under the system of the Tokugawa government, the Maedas, when on duty at the Shōgun’s castle, had taken precedence immediately after the three families of Owari, Kii and Mito ever since the time of the fifth lord of Kaga, Tsunanori. Of course, in riches too they were practically without a peer among the greater and lesser lords of the time. So it was only to have an ornament suitable to his station that Narihiro, the head of the family at that time, carried a pipe of pure gold.
But Narihiro was exceedingly proud of carrying that pipe. I should explain, however, that his pride was due in no sense to a fondness for the thing itself. He was delighted because the power which enabled him to use such a pipe daily was superior to that of the other lords. In short we may say that he was proud of being able to carry about with him everywhere the million _koku_ of rice of Kaga Province in the form of this pure gold pipe.
So Narihiro was almost never without his pipe while in attendance at the Shōgun’s castle. Of course when conversing with others and even when alone, he was sure to take it from the bosom of his kimono, and putting it in his mouth vaingloriously, puff calmly away at Nagasaki or some such fragrant tobacco.
Of course this feeling of pride may not have been of such an arrogant nature as to make him deliberately show off the pipe and the million _koku_ represented by it. But even though he did not show it off himself, it was clearly evident that the attention of the whole palace was concentrated on it. And the consciousness of that attention gave Narihiro a rather pleasant feeling. Indeed after he had been asked by other lords present just to show them the pipe, as it was such a splendid one, he felt that even the familiar smoke of the tobacco bit his tongue more agreeably.
II
Among those astonished at the pure gold pipe carried by Narihiro, those who liked to talk about it most were the shave-pate attendants called _obōzu_. Whenever they met, they put their noses together and chattered away at each other, as they loved to, on the subject of Kaga’s pipe.
“It’s an article fit for a lord.”
“And what’s more, such a thing has intrinsic value.”
“If you pawned it, how much do you suppose it would bring?”
“Who but you would ever pawn it?”
In general, such was the tone of their conversations.
Then one day when five or six of them had their round heads together smoking and talking about the pipe as usual, Kōchiyama Sōshun, attendant of the Osukiya, came by chance where they were. (He was the man who came in later years to play the chief rôle among the “Six Poetical Geniuses of the Tempō Period.”)
“H’m, that pipe again?” he grunted, looking askance at the group.
“It’s a splendid thing both as to carving and the metal of which it’s made. To us who haven’t even silver pipes, it’s an eyesore--”
The attendant Ryōtetsu, who was letting himself go for a little speech, suddenly noticed that Sōshun had drawn over his tobacco pouch and, having filled his own pipe from it, was calmly blowing smoke rings into the air.
“Here, here, that’s not your pouch!”
“That’s all right.”
Without so much as looking at Ryōtetsu, Sōshun filled his pipe again. And when he had smoked it up, he threw back the pouch with a suppressed yawn and said,
“Faw, that’s bad tobacco. A nice pipe-fancier, you!”
Ryōtetsu put away his tobacco pouch hurriedly.
“Nonsense! In a gold pipe, it’d taste pretty good, all right.”
“H’m, that pipe again?” said Sōshun for the second time. “If you think so much of pure gold, why don’t you go and ask him to give you the pipe?”
“Ask him to give me the pipe?”
“Yes.”
Even Ryōtetsu seemed surprised at Sōshun’s audacity.
“However avaricious I may be,--at least, if it were silver, it would be different. But it’s pure gold, that pipe.”
“Of course it is. That’s just why you ought to ask for it. Who’d ever go and get anybody to give him a brass pipe?”
“But I’d be a bit ashamed.”
Ryōtetsu gave his closely shaven pate one tap and struck a posture of reverential awe.
“If you don’t get it, I will. See? Don’t be envious afterwards.”
So saying, Kōchiyama, as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, shrugged his shoulders and laughed derisively.
III
While Narihiro was smoking as usual in a room in the palace, one of the golden doors with a picture of Seiōbo painted on it slid quietly open and an attendant clad in a darkish kimono of _kihachijō_ silk and a crested black _haori_ crawled reverentially into his presence. As he did not raise his face, it was not yet evident who he was. Narihiro, as he thought the man had come on some business, rapped his pipe and said generously,
“What is it?”
“Er,--Sōshun has a request to make.”
So saying, Kōchiyama paused for a moment. Then, as he went on, he slowly raised his head and finally fixed his eyes on Narihiro’s face. He fixed them there like a snake charming its victim, overflowing the while with that peculiar amiability possessed only by men of his sort.
“It’s only this, that I should like very much to have you give me that pipe there in your hand.”
Narihiro unconsciously dropped his eyes to the pipe in his hand. At practically the same moment, Kōchiyama went on as if following him up,
“What do you say? Will you give it to me?”
Sōshun’s words had in them something that was not simply a feeling of supplication but also that sense of overbearing peculiar to the attendant class in their relations with all daimyō. In the palace, where complicated ceremony was held in high esteem, every lord of the land had to follow the guidance of the attendants. On the one hand, Narihiro was at this disadvantage. And on the other hand, for the sake of his good name, he felt that he would not like to be called miserly. Besides, a pure gold pipe was by no means a difficult thing for him to obtain. When these two motives became one, his hand of itself placed the pipe before Kōchiyama.
“Certainly I’ll give it to you. Take it along.”
“Thank you.”
Sōshun took the pipe and, raising it reverentially to his head, hastily withdrew again beyond the sliding door with Seiōbo on it. Then just as he turned to go away, somebody pulled at his sleeve from behind. He looked round, and there was Ryōtetsu with a grin on his pock-marked face pointing covetously at the pipe resting on Sōshun’s palm.
“Here, have a look,” whispered Kōchiyama, holding the bowl of the pipe under Ryōtetsu’s nose.
“You finally got it out of him, didn’t you?”
“Didn’t I tell you? It’s no use your being envious now.”
“Next I’ll go and get him to give me one.”
“H’m, do as you like.”
Kōchiyama tried the weight of the pipe once and then, with a glance toward Narihiro beyond the sliding door, again shrugged his shoulders and laughed derisively.
IV
As for Narihiro, who had been wheedled out of his pipe, he was not so unhappy as you might suppose. This was evident from the fact that when he retired from the castle, the samurai attending him were surprised to find an expression on his face which seemed to indicate an unusually pleasant frame of mind.
He felt a sort of satisfaction at having given the pipe to Sōshun. Perhaps this satisfaction was greater in degree than that he had felt when he had the pipe. But this was most natural. Because, as has already been explained, his pride in the pipe lay not in his fondness for the thing itself. Really he was proud of his million _koku_ in the form of the pipe. Wherefore, just as his vanity was satisfied by the using of this pure gold pipe, would it not be the more fully satisfied by the giving of it willingly to another? Even if he was somewhat governed by outside circumstances when he gave it to Kōchiyama, his satisfaction was not the least bit lessened by that fact.
So when Narihiro returned to his residence in Hongo, he pleasantly said to the retainers nearest him,
“I gave the attendant Sōshun my pipe.”
V
When Narihiro’s household heard this, everybody was surprised at his generosity. But just three men, Yamazaki Kanzaemon, chamberlain, Iwata Kuranosuke, keeper of the stores, and Ueki Kurouemon, treasurer, involuntarily knit their brows.
Of course the cost of one pure gold pipe was nothing to the finances of the Kaga Clan. But if one had to be given to an attendant every time Narihiro went to the castle on festival days, and the first, the fifteenth, and the twenty-eighth of every month, it would entail an alarming expenditure. There was no denying that the taxes might have to be increased to pay for the pipes. That would be terrible, and the three loyal samurai were one in their anticipatory fear.
Therefore they decided to hold a council at once and devise remedial measures. But of course there was only one possible remedial measure, and that was to change entirely the material of which the pipe was made and use some metal that the attendants would not covet. But Iwata and Ueki differed in their opinions as to what metal should be used.
Iwata said it would be derogatory to the honor of their lord to use any metal cheaper than silver. Ueki thought that, if they wanted to put a stop to the avarice of the attendants, nothing could be better than the use of brass. To regard honor now was temporizing. Each stuck to his own opinion and argued for it hotly.