When Nobunaga spoke to the official in charge of collecting the tax, who at first had worried about Nobunaga getting involved with such plebeian actions, the official now had to admit, "It was truly a fine idea, my lord. The people who came to visit the castle will have a story to tell for the rest of their lives, and the poor who received the 'contributions' will spread the news. Everybody is saying that those coins are not just ordinary coins, but money that was touched by the hand of Lord Nobunaga himself, and as such, it would be a travesty to waste it. They said they would keep it as capital. Why, even the officials are pleased. I think this kind of good work would be a good precedent for next New Year's and for the years following."
To the official's surprise, Nobunaga coldly shook his head and said, "I'm not going to do it again. It would be a fault for the man who runs the government to let the poor get used to charity."
* * *
Half of the First Month had passed. After the New Year's decorations had been taken down from the doors of people's homes, the citizens of Azuchi realized that something was going on—so many ships were being loaded at the port and were sailing every day.
The ships, without exception, were sailing from the southern part of the lake northward. And thousands of bales of rice, carried along the land routes in meandering processions of horses and carts, were also going up the coast toward the north.
As always, the streets of Azuchi were filled with the traffic of travelers and the goings and comings of the various lords. Not a day went by that a messenger was not seen galoping down the road, or that an envoy from another province didn't pass by.
"Aren't you coming?" Nobunaga called out happily to Nakagawa Sebei.
"Where to, my lord?"
"Hawking!"
"That's my favorite sport! May I accompany you, my lord?"
"Sansuke, you come too."
It was on a morning in early spring that Nobunaga set out from Azuchi. His attendants had been picked the night before, but Nakagawa Sebei—who had just come to the castle—had now been invited, and Ikeda Shonyu's son, Sansuke, was added to the group is well.
Nobunaga had a liking for riding, sumo wrestling, hawking, and the tea ceremony, but the chase was certainly one of his favorite pastimes.
The beaters and archers would be exhausted by the end of the day. Such interests might be called pastimes, but Nobunaga did nothing halfheartedly. With sumo wrestling, for example, when a basho was arranged at Azuchi, he would gather well over fifteen hundred wrestlers from Omi, Kyoto, Naniwa, and other faraway provinces. In the end, the various lords would gather to watch in large crowds, and Nobunaga would rarely grow tired of the sight even as the hour grew late. Instead, he would pick men from among his own retainers and order them to go up into the ring for match after match.
This First Month's hawking trip to the Echi River, however, was extremely simple. It was nothing more than an outing, and the hawks were never released. After a short rest, Nobunaga ordered the party to return to Azuchi.
As the party entered the town of Azuchi, Nobunaga reined in his horse and turned toward a foreign-looking building in the middle of a stand of trees. The sound of a violin was coming from a window. He suddenly dismounted and went in through the door with a few of his attendants.
Two or three Jesuits came down hurriedly to greet him, but Nobunaga was already striding into the house.
"Your Lordship!" the fathers exclaimed in surprise.
This was the school that had been built next to the Church of the Ascension. Nobunaga had been one of the benefactors of the school, but everything from the timber to the furnishings had been contributed by provincial lords who had been converted to Christianity.
"I'd like to see how you conduct classes," Nobunaga announced. "I assume the children are all here."
Hearing what Nobunaga wanted, the fathers were nearly in ecstasy, and told each other what an honor the visit was. Ignoring their chatter, Nobunaga climbed rapidly up the stairs.
Nearly in panic, one of the priests ran ahead to the classroom and informed the students of the unforeseen inspection by a noble visitor.
The sound of the violin stopped suddenly, and the whispering was silenced. Nobunaga stood at the rostrum for a moment and looked over the room, thinking what an odd sort of school it was. The seats and desks in the classroom were all of foreign design, and a textbook had been placed on each desk. As might be expected, the pupils were the sons of provincial lords and retainers. They bowed solemnly to Nobunaga.
The children were between ten and fifteen years of age. All of them came from noble families, and the entire scene, imbued with the exoticism of European culture, was like a flower garden that no Japanese temple school in Azuchi could rival.
But the question of which kind of school—Christian or Buddhist—offered the best form of education had already been answered in Nobunaga's mind, it seemed, and so he had neither admiration nor wonder for what was in front of him. Taking a student's textbook from a nearby desk, he thumbed through the pages silently but quickly returned it to its owner.
“Who was playing the violin just now?" he asked.
Repeating Nobunaga's question, one of the fathers queried the students again.
Nobunaga quickly understood: the teachers had not been in the room until now, and the students had plainly taken advantage of their absence to play musical instruments, gossip, and frolic happily.
"It was Jerome," the priest said.
The students all looked at one boy who sat among them. Nobunaga followed the diection of their stares, and his eyes rested on a youth of fourteen or fifteen.
"Yes. There he is. It was Jerome." When the father pointed at him, the youth turned bright red and looked down. Nobunaga was not sure whether he knew the child or not.
"Who is this Jerome? Whose son is he?" he asked again.
The priest spoke to the boy sternly. "Stand up, Jerome. Answer His Lordship."
Jerome stood and bowed to Nobunaga.
"I'm the one who was playing the violin just now, my lord." His words were distinct, and there was no servility in his eyes; one could see that he was the offspring of samurai family.
Nobunaga looked rigidly into the child's eyes, but the child did not look away.
"What was that you were playing? It must have been a tune from Southern Barbarian nusic."
"Yes, it was. It was a Psalm of David." The child seemed elated. He spoke with such facility that it was as though he had been waiting for the day when he could answer such question.
"Who taught it to you?"
"I learned it from Father Valignani."
"Ah, Valignani."
"Do you know him, my lord?" Jerome asked.
"Yes, I've met him," Nobunaga replied. "Where is he now?"
"He was in Japan at New Year's, but he may already have left Nagasaki and returned to India via Macao. According to a letter from my cousin, his ship was to set sail on the twentieth."
"Your cousin?"
"His name is Ito Anzio."
"I've never heard the name ‘Anzio.' Doesn't he have a Japanese name?"
"He's Ito Yoshimasu's nephew. His name is Yoshikata."
"Oh, is that who he is? A relative of Ito Yoshimasu, the lord of Obi Castle. And what about you?"