by Gai-Jin(Lit)
"Yes, do what you can, it might work. If the wind doesn't drop we're finished, hurry!"
"Happened to be watching from the bluff, looked like three of four fires started in the Yoshiwara, same time, different areas."
"Good God, you mean arson?"
"Don't know, but whether it was an Act of
God or the Devil or a bloody arsonist, this'll burn us out!" With the engineers he raced into the night.
Sir William saw the Admiral trudging up the beach from the Legation wharf where more sailors and marines were landing. "Boats are ready to evacuate," Ketterer said. "We've stores enough for the whole population. We can assemble them along the beach, should be safe enough."
"Good. This could be dicey."
"Yes. Completely changes our plans, what?"
"'fraid so. Couldn't have happened at a worse time." God-cursed fire, Sir
William thought angrily. Complicates everything
--the Yoshi meeting tomorrow and bombardment of
Kagoshima, and just when Ketterer had finally agreed to obey instructions. What the devil do we do, evacuate or what? Put everyone aboard the fleet and sail back to Hong Kong with our tails between our legs, or move everyone to Kanagawa and to hell with what the Japanese might do? Can't. Kanagawa's a worse trap, bay's too shallow for the fleet to be useful.
He glanced at Ketterer. The Admiral's face was hard and weatherbeaten, the small eyes fixed in the distance. He'll plump for Hong
Kong, he thought sickened. Damn this wind!
Down the street MacStruan had ladders against the side of his building. Servants and clerks handed up buckets of water to others perched there dousing the shingles. Next door at Brock's,
Gornt and others were doing the same.
"Christ, look!" someone shouted. Now fires blanketed the whole of the village and Drunk
Town skyline. The wind was blistering hot and furious in their faces, rushing at them, taunting them.
"Mon Dieu," Angelique murmured.
She wore a heavy coat over her nightdress, head scarf and had dressed hastily at the first warning and fled outside. It was evident the fires would reach them soon, so she scurried back indoors, up to her room. Rapidly she stuffed her brushes and combs and salves and creams and rouge into a bag, her best lingerie next. A moment of thought, and then no longer frightened, she opened the window, shouted at Ah Soh below to stay there and began throwing dresses and coats to her.
Ah Soh sniffled and did not move. MacStruan, close by, cursed her into motion and pointed across the road to their jetty where clerks already guarded boxes of papers, stores and rifles, Vargas and others sweating more parcels into place, MacStruan having decided to chance leaving their specie, bullion and certain documents in their iron safe.
"You motherless whore, Ah Soh," he shouted in perfect Cantonese, "take tai-tai's things over there, guard them and stay there even if the fires of hell fall on you or I'll beat the soles of your feet to pulp!" She obeyed instantly. "Angelique," he called out with a laugh, "we'll get plenty of warning, stay in the warm until I call for you!"
"Thanks, Albert." She saw Gornt looking up at her from next door. He waved.
She waved back. Now there was no fear in her.
Albert would warn her in good time, safety lay across the road or in boats collecting on and near the shore. Her mind was clean of worry.
Earlier she had decided how to handle Andr`e and
Skye and the Woman in Hong Kong. And Gornt tomorrow, and what to do.
Humming Mozart, she took out her brush and sat in front of her mirror to make herself much more presentable for all of them. It was like old times.
Now, what shall I wear, what would be best?
Raiko followed the burly servant amidst the remains of her Inn. He carried an oil lamp and led the way carefully, using stepping stones where he could, skirting bad patches of embers that glowed overbrightly, a warning in the dark, fanned by the hot, acrid air. Her face was blackened, hair heavy with ash and dust, her kimono scorched and in tatters. Both wore smoke masks, yet they coughed and wheezed from time to time. "Go more to the left," she croaked, throat dry, continuing her inspection, only stubs of stone supports, in neat square patterns above ashes, indicating where dwellings had been.
"Yes Mistress." They plodded onwards.
Above the noise of the wind they could vaguely hear others calling, an occasional cry of pain and weeping, distant fire bells from the village and
Settlement that were burning furiously. She was over her initial panic. Fires happen. They were the work of the gods. Never mind, I'm alive.
Tomorrow I will find out what caused the fire, if it was an explosion as some were claiming, though in the uproar this foul wind could play tricks with hearing, and the bang could easily have been an ill-placed oil jar falling into the kitchen fires and bursting where the blaze began. The Three Carp is gone. So are all the others, or almost all.
I'm not ruined, not yet.
A group of courtesans and maids, many crying, appeared out of the night, a few of them scorched. She recognized women from the Green
Dragon. None of her own girls. "Stop crying," she ordered. "Go to the Sixteen
Orchids--everyone is collecting there. It's not badly damaged, there'll be beds for all, food and drink. Help those who are hurt. Where's
Chio-san?" This was their mama-san.
"We haven't seen her," said one through her tears, "I was with a client, it was all I could do to hurry out with him to the underground shelter."
"Good, run along, go that way and be careful,"
Raiko said, satisfied, pleased with herself, remembering that when the Yoshiwara was being built, just over two years ago, and mama-sans had been selected by their Guild--with prior, expensive approval of that department of Bakufu--she had suggested that each Teahouse have a fireproof cellar built near the central structure, and for further prudence to put their brick fire-safes below ground level. Not all of the mama-sans approved, saying the added expense was not merited.
Never mind, it's their loss. Let's see how many wail and beat their breasts tomorrow that they didn't follow my example.
She had just finished inspecting hers. Steps led down to the iron-sheathed door. The interior was unblemished. All valuables were safe, all contracts, indentures, debt papers, loans made to the Gyokoyama and bank statements,
IOU'S, best linens and dress kimonos--both hers and the Ladies' as good as new in their wrappers. From the beginning it had been her policy that all expensive linens and clothes that were not to be worn and used that evening, had to be put away underground, almost always to groans at the extra work.
There won't be groans this dawn, she thought.
To her immense relief all her ladies, staff and clients were accounted for, except
Fujiko, Hinodeh, Teko, Furansu-san and Taira, two servants, two maids still missing. But that did not worry her.
They were surely safe elsewhere. A servant had seen a gai-jin, perhaps two running safely towards the Gate.
Namu Amida Butsu, she prayed, let them all be safe, and bless me for my wisdom making sure that my people were well rehearsed with fire drills.
The horror of Yedo's Yoshiwara conflagration, twelve years before, had taught her the lesson. That fire had almost killed her and her client, a rich rice merchant in the
Gyokoyama. She had saved him by waking him from his drunken stupor, staying to drag him out at the risk of her own life. Escaping through the gardens they had suddenly found themselves surrounded by fire and trapped, but they had rescued themselves from death by furiously digging a trench in the soft earth with her obi dagger, allowing the fire to pass over them.
Even so, much of her lower back and legs had been badly burned, ending her career as a courtesan.
But her client had remembered her and when she had recovered enough to walk, he talked to the
Gyokoyama who lent her the funds to open her own Teahouse and then he had gone on to another lady. Their
investment had been repaid fivefold.
In that fire over a hundred courtesans, sixteen mama-sans, countless clients and maids had perished. More had died in Ky@oto's
Shimibara fire. Over the centuries hundreds in other fires. In the Great Fire of the
Trailing Sleeves, a few years after the mama-san Gyoko had built the first
Yoshiwara, fire erupted and obliterated it, and cost Yedo a hundred thousand lives. Within two years it was rebuilt and thriving, to burn again and be rebuilt again, endlessly. And now as before, Raiko swore, we will rebuild ours better than ever!
"The Sixteen Orchids would be that way,
Mistress, neh?" The servant hesitated, unsure in the billowing smoke clouds. Around them nothing but embers and ashes, a few pathetic house supports, no outlines of meandering paths or stones to guide them. Then a gust broomed away ash and cinders to reveal cornerstones and a stone dragon cracked by the heat. She recognized it and knew where they were. Hinodeh's bungalow.
"We must go back a little," she said, then something caught her eye. A glint. "Wait. What's that?"
"Where, Mistress?"
She waited. Again the wind fanned embers and again the glitter, slightly ahead and to the right.
"There!"
"Ah, yes." Taking care, he used a blackened, leafless branch to brush a path, stepped forward and raised the lamp and peered ahead.
Another cautious step, to retreat hastily as a gust shoved embers at him.
"Come back, we'll look tomorrow!"
"A moment, Mistress." Flinching against the heat, he used the branch swiftly to brush away more ashes. He gasped. The two charred shapes lay side by side, the left hand of one in the right hand of the other. What glinted was a gold signet ring, twisted and partially melted. "Mistress!"
Aghast, like a statue, Raiko stood beside him.
Furansu-san and Hinodeh, must be, she thought instantly, he always wore a signet ring-- remember, he even offered it to me a few days ago.
And, as instantly, her spirit was uplifted with the sight of the clasped hands, the picture they made on their bed of living coals, seeming to her to be a cradle of precious gems, rubies, glinting and living and dying and being reborn by the air currents
--as the two of them would be until the end of time.
Oh so sad, she thought, tears brimming, so sad and yet so beautiful. How peaceful they are, lying there, how blessed, dying together, hand in hand. They must have decided on the poison cup and to go as one.
How wise. How wise for both of them.
She brushed at her tears, murmured,
"Namu Amida Butsu," as a benediction. "We'll leave them in peace and
I'll decide what to do tomorrow." She backed away, her tears bittersweet, but gladdened by the beauty she had seen. Once more they picked their way towards the gathering point.
A random thought took hold of her.
If those two were Furansu-san and Hinodeh, the gai-jin who escaped must be Taira. That's good, much better than the other way around. I lose a fine source of intelligence but gain more in the long run. Taira and Fujiko are more docile and have a future. Skillfully handled,
Taira will easily become as informative, soon
I'll be able to talk directly with him, his
Japanese is improving daily and already good for a gai-jin. I must arrange extra lessons and teach him political phrases, not just the language of bedding and the Floating World that is all Fujiko is capable of--andwitha peasant accent at that. Certainly my investment with him long term is much more promising and--
Both mistress and servant stopped at the same moment. They stared at each other, then abruptly at the southern sky. The wind had dropped.
Wednesday, 14th January:
"Yokohama's finished, William," the
General said in the first light of dawn, his voice raw. They were on the bluff, overlooking the
Settlement, Pallidar in attendance, all of them mounted. Smoke still wafted up to them. The
General's face was bruised and filthy, uniform torn, cap ripped and the brim burnt. "Thought it best to ask you to come up here, gives you a better picture, sorry. Act of God."
"I knew it was bad, but this..." The words trailed off. Sir William was numbed. None of them had slept. The signs of fatigue and worry were in all their faces, their clothes scorched and dirty, Pallidar's ripped and the worst of all. As the sun rose slightly they could see the whole panorama to Hodogaya on the
Tokaid@o.
The Yoshiwara no longer existed, nor the village, most of Drunk Town, over half the
Settlement including stables. No confirmed reports of casualties yet, but a richness of rumors, all bad. No confirmed reason for the catastrophe yet. Many shouted arson by Japanese, but which Japanese and at whose orders, no one knew, though destruction of the
Yoshiwara and village would concern none of them to gain their ends.
"You'll order evacuation this morning?"
Sir William's head ached with a thousand questions and forebodings. "First an inspection. Thank you,
Thomas. Pallidar, you come with me." He spurred his pony down the incline. At the
Legation he reined in a moment. "Anything new,
Bertram?"
"No sir, no confirmed names or numbers yet."
"Send for the village Elder, the shoya, at once, ask him to find out how many casualties he has and to see me at once."
"I don't speak Japanese, Sir
William, and Phillip Tyrer isn't here."
"Then bloody find him," Sir William bellowed, glad for the opportunity to rid himself of some of his pent-up anxiety, concern over Tyrer, and was rewarded to see the effete youth pale. "And bloody learn Japanese or I'll pack you off to Africa and you can burden them! Get all senior traders here in an hour... No, not here, the Club's better, and let's see, it's six-twenty now, make it at nine-thirty, and for
Christ's sake pull your finger out and start using your bloody head!" Idiot, he thought and trotted off feeling better.
Under the lightening sky, the people of Yokohama were picking up the pieces of their places and their lives. At first Sir William, escorted by Pallidar, stayed on the High Street, greeting everyone, answering questions by saying, "First let me have a look. I've called a meeting at the Club for nine-thirty, by then I'll know better."
Nearer Drunk Town the stench of burned buildings worsened. This morning when the wind had dropped, about 2:00 A.m., the fires had died rapidly and no longer jumped fire breaks or from house to house. Only this had saved the
Settlement from oblivion. All Legations were safe, as well as the Harbor Master's, the main traders and their godowns--Struan's,
Brock's, Cooper-Tillman and others.
Lunkchurch's was gutted.
The fire had stopped exactly before Holy
Trinity leaving it untouched and he thanked God for a most suitable miracle. Further down the street the Catholic church had lost most windows and roof, the maw of charred and smoking beams now like an open mouth of rotten teeth. "'morning, where's
Father Leo?" he asked a man working in the garden, cleaning up.
"In the vestry, Sir William. Top of the morning to Yourself and that Yourself is safe, Sir
William, sir."
"Thank you. Sorry about your church. I've called a meeting in the Club at nine-thirty, spread the word, would you? Father Leo's welcome, of course." He went on again.
Unlike the village and Yoshiwara where piles of clean ash were in drifts, like snow, the ravaged areas of the Settlement and
Drunk Town were a mess of bricks, flagstones, twisted metal, the remains of machinery, engines, tools, guns, cannon, anvils and other manufactured objects, now junk. The festering sore of No Man's Land had been cleaned, except for metal, and that pleased him.
He meandered down to the South Gate. The guard house had disappeared. A temporary barrier had been erected in emptiness and samurai were on sentry duty. "Stupid clods," Pallidar said. "They're barricadin
g against what?"
Sir William did not answer, too wrapped up in what he could see and what he could do. Ahead at the canal and moat he could see villagers and others wandering around, or squatting in dismal groups. The other side of the moat where the
Yoshiwara had been, clusters of women and cooks and menservants sat or stood around the only partial structure still standing, canvas screens up as shelter. Samurai still doused fires here and there. A lot of crying and sobbing on the gentle wind.