An English girl in Japan

by Ella M. Hart Bennett

THE GREAT BRONZE BUDDHA.

At one of the temples which Pauline and I visited a sacred horse is kept in a stall, and close by small trays of corn are sold and given to the horse to do duty as prayers. Needless to say, the poor beast is almost as broad as it is long.

We had our first experience of an earthquake soon after our arrival in Yokohama. It was not a severe shock, but quite enough to alarm the visitors at the Grand Hotel, who came rushing out on the landings and corridors in the strangest and most sketchy attires. I hardly like to describe the appearance of one or two visions I met as I ran out of my room to see what had happened. One lady was tearing downstairs followed by her maid holding out a dressing-gown, which she vainly endeavoured to persuade her mistress to put on. Two old maiden ladies, who had arrived only the day before, insisted on the manager of the hotel hiring them two rickshaws, although it was nearly midnight, and in them the two agitated spinsters spent the rest of the night driving slowly up and down the Bund (parade), to be prepared in case of further alarms. I saw them the next morning looking very pale and weary, but still holding on their laps bundles of underclothing, several bags and a miserable little pet dog.

One or two cracks in the ceilings and walls of the hotel was all the damage done by the shock that night.

A fire is almost as much dreaded as an earthquake in Japan, and, unfortunately, is of common occurrence owing to the houses in the native quarters of the towns being built entirely of wood and paper.

A few nights after the earthquake scare I was awakened at about 2 a.m. by a brilliant glare in my room and the noise of many hurrying footsteps passing the hotel. Looking out of my window, I saw what was apparently the entire native quarter of Yokohama in a blaze. Flames and sparks were leaping high into the air and great clouds of smoke were pouring down the street. Quickly flinging on a few clothes, I hurried to Pauline’s room, which was next mine, and found her already half dressed. It needed but little persuasion on her part to convince me that the one and only thing to be done was to go and see what we could of the fire from a safe distance. We crept downstairs and out of a side-door into the street, which was by this time full of little figures running rapidly in the same direction, all carrying lanterns in their hands. I then remembered that our passports, which had been given us by the British Consul only a few days previously, notified that no one was to attend a fire on horseback, or without carrying a lantern. I could well understand the danger there would have been riding amongst this excited crowd of little Japs, but what were we to do without a lantern? Suddenly I remembered I had my purse in my pocket, and seeing two shabby-looking boys carrying a light just in front of me, I stopped them, and holding out a yen (dollar), pointed to their precious lantern. They understood my signals and, grinning broadly, snatched at the money, handed me the lantern and scampered off.

Pauline and I, clinging closely to each other, were swept on in the crowd, which every moment grew denser, until we found ourselves on the edge of the moat separating the native quarter from the settlement.

As it seemed hopeless to attempt to put out the fire, which every moment attacked fresh houses, figures of men could be seen jumping from roof to roof and tearing down houses still untouched to stop the flames going further. The fierce glare lit up the pale, excited faces of the thousands of little spectators swaying in one moving mass backwards and forwards, whilst the clashing of bells from every quarter of the town--one of the regulations in case of a fire--the shouts of the crowd, and the crackling of the burning wood, all added to the strangely horrible, yet fascinating sight. The heat and smoke became almost unbearable, sparks began to fall on us and one had even scorched my hair. It seemed probable, unless the wind changed, that the fire might cross the moat, in which case our lives would be in danger. I turned and asked Pauline whether we had not better try to get out of the crowd and return home. To my horror I found she was looking ghastly and ready to faint. The heat and excitement had been too much for her. I was in despair, knowing it would be impossible to help her out in such a crush. At that moment, to my intense relief, I saw my father’s head and shoulders towering above the crowd not far behind. I managed to call loud enough to attract his attention, and he soon pushed his way through to where we were standing. After some difficulty we managed to get poor Pauline safely to a cooler and less crowded spot. When she had revived a little, we returned to the hotel half dead with fatigue, our clothes ruined, and both of us thoroughly ashamed of ourselves. I think my long-suffering parent thought we had been punished sufficiently, as he did not refer to our escapade, and Pauline’s father never knew in what danger his idolized daughter had been that night.

The next day we heard that over four hundred houses had been destroyed in the fire and three lives lost. The loss of property was not great, as the Japanese keep all their valuables in ‘go-downs’--small fireproof buildings, which alone remained standing and unhurt when we visited the spot a few days later. Even before the ashes were cold the plucky little people were hard at work marking out fresh sites for new buildings, and three or four months later it was difficult to believe that a fire could ever have taken place in that neighbourhood.