Teito Monogatari:
The Tale of the Imperial Capital
Part 1: Great Spirit of Tokyo
Author: Hiroshi Aramata
Part 5: A Preposterous Proposal
Chapter 19: Two Imperial Capital Renovation Plans
The confidential meeting on the Imperial Capital Renovation Plan regained its former sharp, tense atmosphere the moment Baron Shibusawa returned to his seat. There was much agitated discussion among specialists. The baron brought these conversations to a swift end, and at last the next part of the meeting began.
Baron Shibusawa addressed Yoichirō. "You there—please give everyone the background of the Imperial Capital Renovation Plan."
"Understood. I have the honor of explaining the Imperial Capital Renovation Plan to you all."
Yoichirō spoke in a thoroughly bureaucratic, monotone voice. "I will briefly report on the actual course of events concerning the plan as things stand today.
"About twenty years ago, on August 16th of 1888 (Meiji 21), this improvement plan was promulgated as an ordinance. The Imperial Capital Renovation Plan Committee was organized and began implementing improvements. Fiscal hardship remained an issue for many of the plan's early years. It was difficult to do anything about it; in 1903 (Meiji 36), the scope of the original plan was greatly reduced.
"As you know, in February of the following year, the Russo-Japanese War broke out. An expedited plan, greatly reduced in scope from the original plan, was produced.
"Due to the expenses incurred in the Russo-Japanese War, the Imperial Capital Renovation Plan fell into a state of complete stagnation. However, renovations and improvements are essential to stabilizing people's livelihood in the imperial capital. We are currently performing many renovations and improvements that have been delayed for years.
"The projects included in the expedited plan are underway. In July of last year, public works projects amounting to over three hundred million yen (about 2 million dollars or 1.5 million pounds sterling) were issued. Measures have been taken to ensure funding so that these projects can be successfully completed.
"Now then, shortly before our brief recess, Staff Officer Kudō made a grand proposal that might be called the Imperial Capital High-Rise Plan. On the recommendation of Dr. Nagaoka Hantarō, we have Mr. Terada Torahiko of the Imperial University's Experimental Physics Department joining us here to offer his views. Mr. Terada raised an objection to the plan. We were about to hear the details of that objection when the discussion was interrupted. Mr. Terada, please present your opinion.
"As all gathered here are aware, we have already begun construction throughout Tokyo. The sound of hammers is everywhere. Our grand project has finally entered the implementation stage. The deadline for completing the plan is set at five years."
Baron Shibusawa smiled and raised his hand to interrupt Yoichirō's procedural report. "Excellent. Thank you for giving us all such a thorough overview. Mr. Terada, if you would."
Torahiko swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. Brushing aside his hesitation, he sprang to his feet. His face was pale and drawn. "My objection to the plan is due to the state of the ground, the very foundation for this project. In the downtown area, the ground consists of alluvium and clay carried by the Sumida River, the Edo River, and the like, together with layers of volcanic ash. The entire lower city was devastated by the Great Ansei Earthquake. Tokyo is extremely vulnerable to earthquakes. For this reason, I oppose the present high-rise city plan from the standpoint of physics and geography.
"Tall buildings must be constructed upon firm foundations. Consider a high-rise tower constructed entirely of brick. We would have to dig a hundred feet or more to find solid bedrock to build it upon. It would be like building a tall watchtower on top of tofu. If a great earthquake came, it would not stand a chance."
Staff Officer Kudō rose to his feet, his expression grim. "But the tower could be built on bedrock. It would just be difficult. Indeed, this residence was designed by an architect named Tatsuno Kingo. This Western-style mansion also serves as a meeting place for businesspeople. It does not shake in earthquakes, and it is fire-resistant. With such solid Western-style construction, Tokyo will be protected from great fires as well as earthquakes."
The conversation moved in the direction of disaster prevention studies. Torahiko grinned fiercely. This was his area of expertise. "As for the earthquake resistance of high-rise buildings, there is the problem of natural vibration. I cannot say categorically one way or the other if a high-rise building would be able to withstand a strong earthquake. The notion that brick high-rises are resistant to fire is also unproven. All tall buildings are vulnerable to fire. The higher we build, the greater the risk."
Baron Shibusawa opened his mouth in surprise. "But Mr. Terada, I thought that taller buildings were more resistant to fires. Is that not the case?"
"I have more than a little interest in the Great Fire of London that occurred in 1666. The reason the famous St. Paul's Cathedral burned down was that the fire spread to its tall roof. During the fire, people gathered in a large square near the cathedral. They evacuated there, thinking it would be safe. The outer walls of the cathedral were made of non-combustible materials, so there should have been no way for the fire to spread. The lead shingles on the roof of St. Paul's were believed to be safe from fire as well. Lead was also used to carry water in pipes at the time.
"Some wood was exposed to the elements on the roof. This caught, and then the whole roof caught fire. The terrible flames did not spread from low places, but spread as it ran along high roofs." Mr. Terada sighed, then drained the remaining coffee in his cup. "With regards to your proposal, Staff Officer Kudō, I understand it to be a beneficial policy to reinforce structures with fire-resistant materials. However, to make the outskirts of Tokyo into a fortress—I do not believe this to be feasible or practical. Simply surrounding the city with brick buildings cannot be called a complete defense against a great conflagration. Other city plans include wide-open green spaces like parks to serve as firebreaks. May I explain the plan a little more concretely?" he asked.
Baron Shibusawa nodded.
"May I have use of the table?"
Another nod, and the baron gave commands to the maids to clear the table. Mr. Terada told him that this wasn't necessary. The maids were released to their other duties.
"Let's use this round table as an example. The teacups and plates are all in their usual places." Mr. Terada, who had been quite tense, now regained his natural composure and humor. He was like a fish happily returned to familiar water. "Let us regard this round table as the topography of Tokyo. Assume, if you please, that I am standing here on our map." He pointed. "I shall take as the south direction Tokyo Bay, and as north the direction of Mr. Shibusawa. East is the direction in which Staff Officer Kudō and Second Lieutenant Katō are seated. For south, and I shall take the direction of Mr. Oda. The direction of Mr. Kamo, who is seated to my left, is west.
"Mr. Kodachi of the Meteorological Observatory is positioned at Shibuya and Shinjuku. The center is the Imperial Palace, so let it serve as a landmark. I will have you each place one plate before you.
"I would like to examine the history of several of Edo's great fires. First, let us consider the the Meireki Fire of 1657, also called the Furisode Fire, one of the most devastating fires in Edo's history. This occurred nine years earlier than the Great Fire of London. Edo was rebuilt into a larger, grander city after this fire.
"At this time, the wind blew from the northwest. This wind carried the fire, allowing it to spread widely. It ignited in succession at three locations—Hongo, Koishikawa, and Kōjimachi. I shall arrange teacups in each of these locations." He did so, then nodded down at the table.
"The wind blowing from the northwest drove this fire toward the center of Edo. I think you will readily understand how it managed to spread." He gestured from the northwest to the northeast. All of the teacups were in a roughly straight line. Each location would have carried the fire farther into the city.
"That fire was an accident, but at the time, there was a rumor that Yui Shōsetsu sympathizers had committed arson.
"Next, let us consider the Great Fire of Meiwa in 1772. A monk set fire to Meguro--an optimal location--and a beggar named Mashū plotted to burn Edo from end to end. At the time, the wind was blowing from the southwest. The fire spread out, following the line of the wind like other great fires we have seen. It tends to spread in a fan shape that is half-open. The angle is roughly thirty to sixty degrees, and the stronger the wind speed, the smaller the angle becomes."
"Which wind direction is most common?"
"Excuse me, but Mr. Kodachi of the Meteorological Observatory, would you please tell us?" Mr. Terada asked. He adjusted his round-rimmed glasses on his nose.
The middle-aged official singled out by mr. Terada stood up, somewhat flustered. "The wind blows generally to the north or the south, depending on the season. I cannot give a detailed answer without additional research."
"Very good. My findings concur with yours. The wind rarely blows straight west or east, correct?"
"Correct," Mr. Kodachi said.
"For the south, moats connecting Kiyabashi, Kajibashi, and Gofukubashi serve as a wall of water and fulfill the role of checking the spread of the flames. However, in the southeast direction, from Asakusa and Ueno to Hongō, there is no wall of water.
"The northwesterly wind contributed to the Meireki Fire. Countermeasures against fires have been standard building practices ever since. The waterways and canals being built in eastern Tokyo are designed to prevent the worst kind of fires that our city has experienced.
"The district where we stand is the face of the imperial capital. Logistics, roads, and infrastructure are vital here. We must create wide, safe roads like those in western Europe to make our firefighters more effective. Swamplands are being reclaimed for this endeavor even now. I cannot object to that part of the plan; better roads will serve us well. More green spaces like public parks and diverted water might also serve as better firebreaks. Consider Toshima, Shinjuku, Koishikawa, Hongō, Ueno, Asakusa, and similar places..."
Yoichirō cut in to stem the tide of place names. "But such measures wouldn't work if the high-rise buildings themselves are built on unstable foundations, right? I believe you've explained fire prevention measures sufficiently. Regarding transportation and infrastructure, construction of Tokyo Station in the heart of the city is already underway. The train tracks will connect Shimbashi to Ueno to start. There is also a plan to build more roads near the tracks to facilitate shipping and travel. Would these measures suffice to mitigate risk in Staff Officer Kudō's proposal?"
"No, I don't think so. In 1884 (Meiji 17), the Yoshikawa Plan was drafted up. It includes a plan to build a canal crossing the districts I have just mentioned for the reasons we are discussing."
"Was that canal built?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Mr. Terada, let me ask you: what kind of city do you envisage? How is it different from my own?" Staff Officer Kudō asked.
Mr. Terada relaxed the corners of his mouth. He faced Staff Officer Kudō genially, with warm enthusiasm.
"I would like to answer. Prepare to be dazzled. The imperial capital I envision is an underground city."
"An underground city!"
Voices of astonishment rose in unison around the table. Then a fearful silence fell.
"That's right. A moment ago, I spoke of building foundations being made about a hundred feet underground in order to prepare for terrible earthquakes. The roads connecting building to building should be underground roads constructed at different levels. It would be easy to construct four-story buildings underground. Not only would they be protected from earthquakes, they would be defended against military bombardment and bombing."
"Ridiculous!" someone shouted; nearly everyone present was thinking the same thing.
Mr. Terada gave the meeting participants a delighted look.
Translator's Note
Yui Shōsetsu (1605 – September 10, 1651) was a Japanese military scholar and rōnin in the Edo period.
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