Teito Monogatari:
The Tale of the Imperial Capital
Part 2: Supernatural Babylon
Author: Hiroshi Aramata
Part 5: Destruction in the Year of the Boar
Chapter 24: Night Flight
“Stationmaster, the Shibusawa family automobile has just arrived.”
“Oh! I’ll go at once.” The Ueno Stationmaster hastily put on his white gloves, donned his cap, and went out to the front entrance. The area in front of the station was overflowing with people. Automobiles were no longer considered unusual, but the car carrying Shibusawa Eiichi, the great businessman of the Meiji era, attracted great attention as it pulled into Ueno Station.
The stationmaster saluted and approached the black automobile.
“Keizo, this is Ueno Station,” the elderly Eiichi Shibusawa said to his grandson Keizo, who was seated beside him. This morning, Shibusawa Keizo was leaving for Sendai. This departure was a cause for celebration, and so Keizo’s grandfather had gone out of his way to see his grandson off at Ueno Station.
Keizo nodded shyly. “Yes, Grandfather.”
“Good, good, Keizo. When you graduate, you will be my successor. Do you understand? Apply yourself to your studies. Come home during the holidays. I look forward to eating conger eel tempura with you.”
“Thank you, Grandfather. I’ll be off now.” Keizo bowed his head, grabbed his bag, and then stepped out of the car. The September sunlight was nearly blinding. The station master’s white gloves were dazzling.
Shibusawa Eiichi got out of the car and called out to the stationmaster. He had to rely on his cane to stay on his feet. “My grandson is going to Sendai. Please take good care of him.”
“Yes, sir! But Professor Shibusawa, weren’t you scheduled to depart today yourself?” the stationmaster asked, confused.
“No, not me; my grandson. He is the heir to the Shibusawa family.” Eiichi laughed and waved to his grandson. His white hair gleamed in the sun.
“Grandfather, be well.”
“You, too, boy,” Eiichi replied with a bright smile. Then he turned on his heel and got into the black car. He sighed as he watched his grandson off through the car window. “I suppose I should try not to worry. Now that I have disinherited my son Atsuji, my grandson Keizo must inherit my legacy. Keizo wants to study science. He says that he wants to become a zoologist, but I must have him become a banker. I cannot grant his wish to study biology under Professor Asajiro Oka.” He shook his head. “Curse me as a selfish old man if you will, Keizo. I have no choice but to rely on you. Please forgive me.”
The old man, now past seventy and retired from all business, covered his face with his hand. “Take me home,” he said to the driver.
The black car drove forward slowly.
“Hey, go by the New Nihonbashi. I want to see it. That fellow Yoshirō is probably off watching airplanes again anyway.”
Mr. Shibusawa was speaking of Sakatani Yoshirō, who served as Minister of Finance in 1906 (Meiji 39). He was Shibusawa Eiichi’s son-in-law. Lately he had become fascinated with airplanes, and from time to time he would invite Eiichi to the Aoyama Drill Grounds.
1916 (Taishō 5) was a memorable year in the history of aviation. On January 8, Otōjiro Itō piloted the Emi No. 1, an aircraft he had built himself, and successfully completed a flight to the imperial capital from the airfield at Inage. Charles Niles, the American “king of aviators,” who had arrived in Japan the previous year, flew a Bleriot monoplane and demonstrated the first loop-the-loop maneuver in flight. One hundred thousand spectators crowded into Aoyama to see this maneuver. In April, the American aviator Art Smith landed at Yokohama and, competing with Niles, piloted a Curtiss biplane to an altitude of one thousand meters. He performed a splendid looping flight over the skies of the imperial capital.
As a result of all this aerial showmanship, Sakatani Yoshirō was now completely captivated by air shows.
When Shibusawa Eiichi stopped at the Aoyama Drill Grounds, he found his son-in-law there as expected.
“This December, a woman aviator is coming from America,” Yoshirō said cheerfully. “She is a nineteen-year-old young lady named Katherine Stinson, and I hear her flying skills are magnificent. This young lady is going to demonstrate a night flight. How marvelous, don’t you think? If that night flight should succeed, as one retired from the business world, I should like to present you with something as a token of appreciation.”
Shibusawa Eiichi’s eyes narrowed.
“I have in mind a scheme that will make you gasp in surprise, father-in-law.”
Eiichi was skeptical, but he was in an indulgent mood. “So even a Ministry of Finance official like you can do something stylish. I shall look forward to discovering this so-called scheme of yours.”
***
On December 15, 1916 (Taishō 5), six days after the death of Natsume Sōseki, the aviatrix Katherine Stinson departed Aoyama at 7:15 p.m. and succeeded in a night flight and a night loop over the skies of the imperial capital. She piloted a Wright biplane tractor equipped with an 80-horsepower Gnome engine. That night in Tōkyō, large bonfires were lit at seven locations, and the Ginza area was illuminated by bright gas lamps.
Compared with Art Smith’s, Katherine’s technique was rougher and still immature, but she completed the flight while she was only nineteen, and a woman. That was significant in its own right. Sakatani Yoshirō, who watched the entire performance from VIP seats, leaned toward Lieutenant-General Nagaoka of the Army and President of the Imperial Flight Association. He whispered, “I believe that Second Lieutenant Mizuta of the Tokorozawa Army Airfield said it best: Niles' flying was grand, and Smith’s was graceful and delicate. If one were to compare them to dancers, they were the Fujima school and the Hanayagi school. Miss Stinson’s style would be girls’ revue, I suppose. She is certainly spirited.”
“Haha—girls’ revue. What keen insight.” The lieutenant-general laughed.
“Lieutenant General Nagaoka, there is something I would like to discuss with you.”
“I’d be delighted to discuss anything at all with you, Mr. Sakatani.”
“It is about my honored father-in-law. As you know, old Mr. Eiichi obtained the rights to lay railways in Korea and has devoted himself to public works. Korea’s management has now expanded into the operation of the South Manchuria Railway in Dalian, pioneered by Gotō Shinpei. He desires to build a great commercial city centered on a port and railways in Dalian. The Imperial Capital Renovation Plan was merely a stepping stone for him. He has commenced construction of a great commercial city on the scale of Paris in Dalian.”
“Dalian, together with Port Arthur, is an important base for the Imperial Army on the continent, and it cannot be limited merely to functioning as a commercial city.” Lieutenant General Nagaoka’s eyes flashed sharply.
Sakatani smiled slightly. “Of course, I understand that. Mr. Gotō created the new district of Changchun. In his capacity as president of the railroad, he built roads and rows of houses like those of Europe’s dynastic age. Compared with those accomplishments, my father-in-law did not succeed in creating the great commercial city of his dreams, the Venice of Japan.
“However, watching this airplane, I have thought of something. It occurs to me that there is great scenic beauty in the imperial capital that not a single person—not even, with all reverence, His Majesty himself—has yet seen.”
“You intend to show him Tōkyō from the sky?”
“I would like to request that honor on behalf of my father-in-law. He should be the first to behold the city in such a way.”
“Understood, understood. Airplane safety improves by the day. He should be able to take in the sight of the city from above before long.”
“Excellent. If possible, a night flight would be preferable, as I have thought of another little idea.”
“It seems like you have this all planned out already.”
“Oh, nothing of the sort. I simply want my father-in-law to feel like he is one of the great builders and reformers of Tōkyō.”
Sakatani Yoshirō’s dream came true on the night of August 5, 1920 (Taishō 5). The Imperial Aviation Association held an aviation meet. Ōkuma Shigenobu had recently become the association’s new president. At the meet Mr. Sakatani took part as chief judge. He arranged for Gotō Yūkichi, the runner-up in the day’s competition, to fly the Itō Emi 16 Fuji-go plane over the imperial capital at night.
Astonishingly, the passenger accompanying him would be Shibusawa Eiichi.
The airplane took off from Inage and was to maintain an altitude of six hundred meters, reach the skies above the imperial capital, circle from Aoyama toward Shibuya, and then return.
Before takeoff, Sakatani Yoshirō whispered these words to his aged father-in-law: “When you arrive over the imperial capital, I hope you will look down at the ground around Kabutochō. I have prepared a small token of appreciation from all the citizens of Tōkyō, including myself. The residents of Kabutochō have all joined in to help me prepare this for you.”
Shibusawa Eiichi could not make sense of what he meant. What on earth was he talking about? He boarded the airplane and it took off. Prompted by Gotō, the pilot, he lowered his gaze to the area around Kabutochō.
What a sight! Shibusawa Eiichi could hardly believe his eyes. Along the roads and canals surrounding the Western-style Venetian residence at the center of the district where he had sought to build Tōkyō as a water city in imitation of Venice, many torches and bonfires had been lit.
It was beautiful. Rows of red flames were reflected in the Sumida River, shining like jewels.
As Eiichi’s surprise faded, he looked calmly at the fires and realized that they spelled out letters. Letters of flame and light.
EIICHI
He read the fiery letters and was left speechless. So this was what Yoshirō had prepared for him! A heartfelt celebration by the citizens of Tōkyō in praise of Shibusawa, Eiichi, the king of industry who had contributed so much to Japan’s wealth and infrastructure during the Meiji era.
Shibusawa Eiichi stared down at the fiery letters and didn’t say a word. He was deeply moved by this display. He was retired from public life and saw this as a remembrance of his legacy. The fiery letters were strung from Kabutochō toward Ryōgoku, spanning the Sumida River. On the streets, citizens lit fires; on the river’s surface, boats burned flames; beacon fires on the bridge joined the others in the skillful display. The airplane beat its great wings and circled overhead.
“What do you think, Mr. Shibusawa?” asked Gotō Yūkichi, piloting the biplane.
“Well…” Eiichi trailed off. He smiled and then spoke to the young aviator. “I finally understand. The imperial capital does not belong to the government or to the military. Tōkyō belongs to its citizens. Ha, ha, ha…”
High above the imperial capital, the biplane skimmed over the ground where the beacon fires burned and answered the Tōkyō’s citizens by blinking its red navigation lights.
Translator's Notes:
The Aoyama Drill Grounds were a large military parade site in Tōkyō, Japan, used during the Meiji and Taishō periods. The grounds were established in 1886 and later replaced by the Meiji Jingu Gaien park complex and the Japan National Stadium.
The girls’ revue dance style is a high-energy, precise performance. It combines jazz, tap, and Broadway dance steps. Dancers wear bright costumes. They focus on sharp movements, synchronized team kicks, and audience engagement.
The Itō Emi 16 Fuji-go, built in 1920, was intended as a cheap and simple general purpose civil biplane, but gained publicity with exhibition flights.
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