FIRES AND FIRE-BRIGADES
Fires are necessarily frequent, as the majority of the houses are
constructed of wood; and such dangerous articles as paper-lanterns,
small charcoal fire-boxes, and movable open stoves, for household
purposes, are in common use. The candles burnt in the paper-lanterns
render them extremely dangerous, as they are fixed by a socket inside
the lower end of the candle, which fits on a peg in the
lantern--generally very loosely; and as they flare a great deal, very
little wind or motion will cause a conflagration. Fires are, mostly
attributed, however, to the 'chebache,' or small charcoal fire-box,
which is used for smoking purposes. It is placed on a small stand in
the middle of the thickly-matted rooms, the smokers sitting round
drinking saki, and occasionally filling their small pipes. Their
method of smoking, like all the rest of their habits, is remarkably
peculiar; for, after inhaling a few whiffs, the smoker invariably
knocks out the half-consumed remnant on the 'chebache,' and, presently
refilling, commences another pipe, and so on, two or three times in
succession, rarely troubling himself about the ashes of the last,
which the slightest current of air may carry unperceived to smoulder
in the combustible flooring.
[Illustration: A FIRE BRIGADE ON ITS WAY TO A FIRE.]
Fires occur frequently, notwithstanding the great precautions which
are taken for their prevention. Town and country are divided into
districts, for which certain of the inhabitants are responsible. Each
of these has its alarum, with observatory and regular watchers; while
every guard-house is provided with a supply of ladders, buckets, and
other necessary implements. Whenever a gale is coming on, the
'Yoshongyee and Kanabo,' or 'watch and fire look-outs,' who on
ordinary occasions only go their rounds by night, parade the towns
with rattles and clanking iron instruments, as a warning to the people
to keep their fires low.
They have numerous fire-brigades, which are well organized, and
remarkably efficient. In the illustration one of them is seen hurrying
along the street to the place of action. On the right, a watchman is
striking an alarum, and another may be noticed, half-way up an
observatory in the distance, pointing out the direction of the fire.
The white building on the other side of the street is a fire-proof
storehouse, in which the public documents and valuables of the
district are deposited whenever a fire breaks out in it.
[Illustration: Yoshongyee and Kanabo. (Native drawing.)]
A Japanese 'Shecase,' or fire-brigade, passing silently along the
streets, lighted by its weird red-and-black distinguishing lanterns,
is a strange sight. Some of its members wear armour, with helmets and
black-lacquered iron visors, and carry 'martoe,' or 'fire-charms,' and
various necessary implements; others are clad in head-and-shoulder
pieces and gauntlets of light chain-armour, to protect them while
pulling down and unroofing houses, which is their especial duty. All
have a regular fire costume, from the 'Oki Yaconin,' or 'head man,' to
the bare-legged coolie, who carries the badge of the brigade in large
red characters on his back. On arriving at a fire, a _point de tête_
is selected--generally a house, on the roof of which the fire-charms
are immediately fixed, as if to forbid its further advance. These
charms (the circular white objects with black mouldings) have, of
course, as little effect on one element as Canute's celebrated
command had on another; but the people put such faith in their virtue
that their presence is a powerful auxiliary in prescribing the limits
of fires, which are rarely allowed to pass the bounds marked out by
them. The firemen fight with the flames as they close on the charms,
like men determined to stand by their colours to the last, rushing
into the burning houses, pulling them down, and drenching the blazing
thatch, with great courage and endurance. When, by thus putting their
shoulder to the wheel, the fire is fairly subdued, they turn round and
point exultingly to the martoe as the Hercules that has procured the
result. On one occasion, at a fire in the village of Omura, adjoining
Yokahama, the charms and their supporters were actually licked by the
flames from the house opposite to that on which they were fixed, whose
thatched roof was pulled off while in a state of rampant ignition by
fire-coolies, who with bare hands, and no other protection than their
saturated clothing, fought with the actual fire. One plucky fellow
fell through the roof while thus employed, and, as the spectators
still shuddered at his anticipated fate, rushed out apparently
uninjured, and, re-ascending, resumed his fiery task with unabated
vigour. Although the fire-charms were triumphant on this occasion,
they did not escape unscorched, and several engines had to be kept in
constant play upon them and their supporters, to prevent the one from
ignition, and the other from being baked in their armour like crabs in
their shells.
The engines in present use are made of wood, and, though simple, are
efficient in damping the roofs of houses (which, being tiled with thin
squares of wood, are very inflammable), putting out embers, and
playing upon the firemen, who, as already indicated, prefer being
stewed to being roasted. The Japanese, however, are thoroughly aware
of the superiority of our engines, which will probably soon take the
place of their own, as the people are singularly quick in availing
themselves of anything useful.
The townspeople generally calculate on being burnt out once in every
seven years, and whenever this calamity falls upon them, no time is
lost in rebuilding. For instance, in December, 1864, a fragment of
blazing wood, from a fire which destroyed the United Service Club at
Yokohama, was blown across to the village of Omura before alluded to,
which was half burnt down, greatly endangering the General Small-Pox
Hospital and the huts of the Royal Marine Battalion in its rear. But
early next morning, while the embers of the old houses were still
smoking, new ones were in course of erection, and before night some of
the industrious occupants were fairly roofed in afresh.[2]
[Footnote 2: As an illustration of the spirit which characterises
British merchants in their intercourse with the Japanese, it may be
mentioned that a liberal subscription was promptly got up for the
re-establishment of these burnt-out villagers; but, although the
Japanese Government seemed thoroughly to appreciate the kindly spirit
in which it was offered, national pride came in the way of its
acceptance, and the people were only induced to waive their objection
on its being urgently pressed upon them that the fire which destroyed
the Foreigners' Club was the cause of the calamity.]