CHAPTER IX

THE GREAT CONFLAGRATION—THE CHARITY “BENTO”

IT was on the 18th of January in the third year of the Meireki era (1657 A.D.) that a bitterly cold north wind, much colder than usual, was blowing hard. As the wind increased in strength, the foot-passengers, even in the busy streets, became fewer. From the hour of _ne_, or the snake, which is the same as ten o’clock A.M. in our modern reckoning, it had become a regular hurricane, raising clouds of dust and even whirling pebbles into the air. It seemed as if the heavens and the earth were creaking and shaking under the rage of it. At this juncture the people of the city were alarmed by the repeated hasty ringing of several fire-bells in the direction of the Hongo district, the northern part of the city. Everybody went up to his fire-lookout and saw the ominous black smoke rising in the shape of a vast eddying cloud over the part of the city called Maruyama in Hongo.[31]

Footnote 31:

Hongo precinct of the Maruyama Mountain.

It happened that, a few days before, Bunzayemon, with five or six young men and a plentiful supply of money, had gone into the mountains of the neighboring country to buy lumber, leaving the management of his affairs, in his absence, entirely to Chobei San.

So when Chobei hurried up to the lookout to ascertain where it was that the fire had broken out, he glanced up to the heavens and said to himself: “From the appearance of the sky this wind will not fall for some time, and in all probability the whole city will be burned down, because the houses are quite dried up by the continued fine weather we have been having lately. This is the time to save many people, and it is also a very good time to make a great deal of profit!”

Saying this, Chobei made for the shop and issued orders in excited haste to the men. “Now, you men must form yourselves into two bands: one to go straight to Fukagawa and get a huge iron pot and a quantity of rice to be boiled, and make preparations for a charity lunch for the poor; the other to stay here and put together all the goods in the shop that we may transfer them without loss of time to Fukagawa.” Though the men complained against his hasty decision to retreat before the distant fire, they could not resist the order of the chief man in the shop, so they reluctantly began to pack up the goods in preparation for departure, though they thought it would only prove necessary in the end to brush the dust and soot from off them. Seeing how they were employed, the neighbors, too, jeered at the hurry they were in; but consternation soon spread even among these neighbors when the sparks, carried and fanned by the wind, had started fresh fires—one at Kanda[32] and another at Nihonbashi, the business part of the city.

Footnote 32:

A precinct of Yedo.

By this time Chobei had already closed the shop and sent off some valuables and some furniture on carts to Fukagawa, escorted by the men of the shop, while he had all the timber floated down the river to the same place, to be put with the other timber which had already been stored there. Chobei was much delighted to find that all the preparations for the charity luncheon for the destitute had been carried out by those who had gone before them. “For our first work is the saving of the people,” he exclaimed.

So saying, he engaged a few coolies to assist the men in boiling the rice and so forth. Having wrapped the boiled rice in broad bamboo leaves, together with pickled _daikon_,[33] he contrived a luncheon for many thousands of the poor in no time.

Footnote 33:

Large white radishes.

The stronger the wind grew the farther the fire spread: it devastated the city with such rapidity that noontide of that day saw even the districts of Hachobori and Shiba reduced to heaps of smoldering ashes. Those who were burned out had not had time to put away their furniture, but only escaped with their lives, and were seeking in vain to find shelter in the houses of their relatives, who had suffered a like fate with them and could not assist them. Not knowing where to turn, they wandered about in terror the whole day, and their misery was such that they could not even get themselves food.

While this was the state of things, a band of coolies came among them with a rectangular bamboo basket with _bento_[34] in it, and one of them held aloft a paper flag with huge characters on it, which read as follows: “Kinokuniya Bunzayemon’s Charity Luncheon!”

Footnote 34:

Luncheon.

The coolies distributed this _bento_ among the men and women who were in distress. Every man and woman, therefore, whether young or old, who was sore oppressed by hunger, was glad to get hold of this food and was relieved by it, though it was only for a time. With admirable sagacity Chobei quickly hired many more coolies and prepared more luncheons, sending them to every quarter of the city; and so wherever men went they saw the selfsame flag flying for charity, and the whole city was surprised, and praised the generosity of this Kinokuniya Bunzayemon.

In this great fire even those large palaces of the _daimios_,[35] which stood in the line of the fire and which could in ordinary days call up many hands to keep the fire off, were not able to escape from the disaster. Even the nobles of high rank and their retainers knew not where to find shelter, but stood bewildered in the corners of their big gardens and waited for help, but in vain. For such personages Chobei ordered men to prepare _bento_ in nice packages of _sasaori_[36] and to present it to those nobles and their households in the name of Kinokuniya Bunzayemon. In consequence, even the servants of these nobles were grateful to the coolies, and received the presents on behalf of their masters.

Footnote 35:

Feudal lords, or the nobility of Japan.

Footnote 36:

Boxes made with bamboo leaves.

Then, too, Chobei ordered the men of Kinokuniya to put up wooden inclosures round about the grounds of those nobles to protect them from robbery or trespass.

The fire raged through the whole night of the 18th and through the whole of the next day, so Chobei engaged yet more coolies, and ordered them to make more charity _bento_ for the relief of the poor.

There was a certain man named Kamada Matahachi, who was well known for his physical strength. He had always kept a large portable closet, about six feet by three, and five feet seven inches in height, in which to carry his furniture in case of fire. When he thought his house was in danger, he put all his belongings into this box, placed a sheet of matting on the top, and carried all these on his back by the means of a rope specially prepared for the purpose. Carrying a long, heavy stick in his hand, he walked unconcernedly and steadily among the crowd like an elephant among dogs. Every one marveled at his size and strength, and was forced to make room for him to go by. When he came to Fukagawa to escape from the fire, he saw there a large sign which read:

Day laborers are wanted for carrying the charity _bento_. Let all who wish to be engaged call at the timber reservoir of Kinokuniya Bunzayemon at Fukagawa. Three meals will be given, and one _kwan mon_[37] will be paid daily for wages.

Footnote 37:

A sum about equal to one dollar.

As he had nowhere to go at the time, he was glad to find some work. He went to the timber reservoir of Bunzayemon, where he found a bustle and hurry of men and women, hundreds in number, for the preparation of luncheon. Some were preparing a quantity of rice in large iron pots, others were cutting up some pickles, while a third set of men were wrapping these up in bamboo leaves.

Many bands of coolies with their paper flags were carrying out the luncheons in the baskets, while others were coming back with empty ones.

Matahachi, with that big closet on his back, drew near to the place and thundered out: “Is this the place where hands are wanted?” The people turned, and without giving any answer simply looked at one another in astonishment at his curious appearance.

Once more he called out: “I’m one Kamada Matahachi; I come to assist your charity work for the rescue of the people.”

The voice apparently penetrated even to the inner room, for Chobei came out and was also surprised by the man’s appearance, but said: “Nothing can be more fortunate for us than to have the assistance of Mr. Matahachi, who is noted in the whole of Yedo for his physical strength. Please help us in our work by distributing the _bento_ in this big, light-wood chest.”

With ready acquiescence Matahachi laid aside the heavy baggage on his back. “This is my furniture,” he said; “please keep it for me.” The rattling sound of iron and china in the chest made those near by wonder at the forethought with which he had made provision against the contingency of a fire, and by which he had been enabled to move away at once with all his household goods.

Having safely stowed away his possessions, Matahachi lifted the big wooden chest, now packed with _bento_, and by means of a rope put it on his back, and, holding the big pole of hard oak-wood in his right hand and the paper flag in his left, started forth to the scene of ruin, with one coolie to assist him.

As he called out in a loud, deep tone of voice to announce the charity, the people turned to him in astonishment and soon came flocking around him. The attendant coolie, standing behind, distributed the _bento_ from the chest on Matahachi’s back with no inconvenience. So these two finished their task in less time than it would have taken five or six men to do it with ordinary methods. On their way back to Kinokuniya, when they came to a crowded place Matahachi put forth his staff, and by pushing the crowd to one side made his way through without any hindrance.

In one of those crowded places he heard the shrieking cry of a girl. Forcing his way to the spot, he found a girl of twelve or thirteen years of age who could not get up on account of being trodden down by the crowd. Being naturally of a chivalrous character, he soon helped the girl up and asked whether she had not her parents with her.

She sobbed, and said: “We all ran away when the fire broke out, and I became separated from my parents!”

As he could not leave her there, he said: “That cannot be helped. If you wander about here you may be trampled to death. I will take you to a better place if you will get into my empty chest.” So the coolie helped her in, and they hastened on to Fukagawa.

At another time he saw an old woman of about threescore years, half dead, lying by the wayside with her dress partly burned. He felt he could not leave her behind in such a state, so she, too, was put into the bamboo basket by the side of the girl.

Having got back to Fukagawa, he said to Chobei: “I rescued these two on the way home. Give them the treatment which is suited to their need.” He handed them over to the acting master, who thanked Matahachi, and thus addressed the other bands of coolies: “To give away the _bento_ alone does not cover the whole work of charity; whenever any of you are coming back with empty chests, you, too, had better bring people home, if such help is needed as these two received.” And a cordial reception was given to the old woman as well as to the young girl.

During such a fire there were naturally many lost children and aged persons who might have been trodden down under foot. Having understood Chobei’s instructions, the other bands from that time were sure to bring back two or three who needed help. To any who were thus brought in Chobei gave proper treatment, and as he gave the coolies prizes they worked with great zeal and diligence. Kamada Matahachi went in and out of the fire ruins many times a day and repeated the same charitable work. The five or six hundred coolies did their best, also, and, in consequence, at the reservoir there was a continuous trooping out with the _bento_ and trooping in of the people; and by the night of the 19th there were 2800 rescued persons, old and young, all told, who had been brought to this temporary shelter.

Even on the night of the 19th there was no sign of the abating of the fire. The strong northwest wind was still raging, and within two days, the Hongo, Kanda, Nihonbashi, Kyobashi, and Shiba districts were all swept by the fire. And now the fire was burning down Takanawa with such terrific force that the very sea-line seemed to recede before it. But that night the wind suddenly changed to the south-east, and the fire turned backward and licked up all the houses on both sides of the great river Sumida and those that had survived at first in Asakusa and round about Yushima. Then at last it was got under control near to Senju about noonday on the 20th. And since the morning of the 18th, within three days and two nights, the whole city of Yedo had been reduced to ashes and as many as 108,000 people were lost. It was one of the most terrible of fires.

Indeed, such a disastrous fire had never before and has never since occurred in Yedo, and even now it is sadly referred to by the people as the “Furisode-Kwaji”—the long-sleeved fire—quite as often as it is called the great fire of Hongo-Maruyama.