The Fireworks of Japan.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 456, 22 March 1890, Page 3

The Fireworks of Japan.

By E. H. House. [Copyright 1889 by the Author.] ‘Of course I like Fourth of July,’ said Master Charles Rushton, aged seven ; 4 everybody does. But I should like it better if I could see more of the fireworks. They come so late at night that I am all tired out, and mamma says I ought to be. in bed instead of going out to the park with Uncle Ned and Georgie. I wish they could have the fireworks earlier.’ t ‘So do I,’ agreed his cousin George. 4 Charlie thinks I am almost grown up, because I am five years older than he : but it doesn’t make much difference after ten o’clock, especially when you have been hard at work enjoying yourself all day long. I would rather get up before sunrise, and see the fireworks then.’ 4 How would it please you to live in a country where they have their best fireworks in the day-time?’ asked Uncle Ned, who had been a great traveller, and witnessed many things which were far beyond the children’s conception. ‘That would be delightful,’ answered Charley; 4 but I never heard of such a place.’ ‘ I have,’ exclaimed Georgie, 4 and I know what Uncle Ned means. Bub it is too far awav to do U 3 any good.’ ‘ If we want to see them very much,’ said his uncle, 4 they will certainly be brought here before long. A few specimen? have been shown, I believe, though not enough to make people understand how curious and beautiful they are. When their merit is known we shall have them in attendance.’ ‘I wonder what they are,’ said Georgie. ‘lb seems so strange to think of fireworks in broad daylight.’ 4 1 should as soon expect to see waterworks in the dark,’ added Charley. 4 Do tell us about them, Uncle Ned.’ 4 1 can do better than that, lads. Come with 'me, and we will make a call at one of the most celebrated manufactories that the empire of Japan contains. I am sure you will be interested. It will give you new ideas of a familiar art, to compare the effects produced in the most ingenious of Eastern countries with those of our own skilful invention. The proprietor is a very good friend of minp, and will receive you with all the courtesy and hospitality of his race. His establishment is eight thousand raile3 away, to be sure, bub that is the merest trifle. Put your hands in mine, and trust to me. There! For the next half hour we are on the shore of the Bay of Yedo, a little distance out of Yokohama, and among the pleasantest and politest people that ever greeted a party of inquiring strangers.’ 4 1 am afraid I can’t make believe quite so much as that-,’ said Charlie, shaking his head doubtfully. 4 I want to, but I don’t think I am old enough.'

4 Try, Charlie,’ urged his cousin. 4 Uncle Ned will make it easy for you..’ ‘Then this is what wo will do,' suggested Uncle Ned. 4 A few years ago I did really take a walk through Mr Hirayama’s warehouse with some young companions just about your age. If I relate exactly what occurred, you can imagine that the visit is taking place now, and that yomare in the party. Now, shut your eves and open your ears. One, two, three—here we are in Japan.’

Upon one of the poses or a finely-carved gateway hangs a little sign bearing the name of Hirayama Ginta, the present head of a family which for more than two hundred years has been distinguished for the successful fabrication of fiery marvels. Following the Japanese custom, we clasp our hands together to signify our presence, instead of knocking or ringing a bell, and straightway a smiling youth of fifteen appears, who, learning our purpose, invites us to follow him to his employer’s office. We cross a spacious enclosure, the aspect of which is much like that of an ordnance field, being filled with oddly-constructed mortars of different sizes, and piles of ammunition in the shape of bombs or enormous rockets. The difference is that these missiles are all innocent of deadly purpose, having been prepared for the peaceful amusement and not for the destruction of mankind.

While we sit waiting for Mr Hirayama’s arrival his young attendant directs our attention to a number of pictures suspended from the wall, in which the rise and gradual progress of Japanese pyrotechny are illustrated. One of the oldest of these commemorates a scene of great importance in the nation’s history. More than twelve hundred years ago, in the reign of the Emperor Teuchi, an invasion was attempted bv the Chinese, and the services of the makers of fireworks were employed to transmit signals from the islands nearest the point of danger to the capital in the interior. Their system of telegraphing, even at. that remote period, wa? so perfect that it might be advantageously repeated at the present day. Messages were conveyed by combinations of coloured lights displayed singly or in groups. A,red or blue flame alone would express one idea. Two flames, red and blue, placed horizontally gave further information. These could be reversed, and then shown perpendicularly, or at different angles. As other hues were added the arrangement? were multiplied indefinitely, and it was found that military or naval operations could in this way be directed from immense distances. As we gaze in some surprise.at the evidence of early intelligence which this picture - affords,'p-the

owner of t<e premises enters, and afbe r saluting his visitors, opens a conversation on the subject which, he perceives, has attracted our notice.

4 That was not the only occasion when we were permitted to serve the State,’ he remarks 4 although it may have been the first of importance. Precisely the same thing happened in the time of Hojo Sadatoki, six hundred years ago, when the greatest of all expeditions came from China, and was defeated. And again, three hundred years ago, when Taiko sent his armies to Korea, he kept a-chain of signalmen extending from a high hill near his dwelling in Kioto over a line six hundred miles long, the end being stationed on the island of Tsu, which is only a short distance from the Korean shore. His plan wa3 to give orders for every movement that took place, and this he was enabled to do until the war was brought to a close by his death.’ We are moved to inquire if the methods of communication then employed are still on record.

‘Certainly there are,' Mr Hirayama replies. ‘The ancestors of one of my employees was engaged in that very service, and all the details are carefully preserved.’ 4 Do you mean that the same family has been following the business for three hundred years ?’

4 That is our way to Japan. We think we gain more skill if we continue to study and practise not only for a life-time but through many generations. My own forefathers began to take up this vocation more than two centuries ago. We are younger, you see, than some of those who work for us.’

4 And have you all been united together these many years ?’ 4 Several of us have. We cannot conveniently separate, for each one has his particular branch of labour, which no other person can perform as well. It is often the case, indeed, that no one else can perforin it at all, for there are secrets in our craft which are never told outside the household that possess them. If, for example, this young man’s father should leave me,’ Mr Hirayama explains, pointing to the lad who met us at the gate, 4 there would be an end to some of my best productions. On the other hand, all that he does would be useless without the application of a secret process which belongs to my family.’ 4 lb must be difficult to keep these things from detection year after year.’ 4 We have not found it so. I may tell you that the whole of our work is never done in one place. I have my little laboratories scattered in numerous villages, where the inhabitants are nob too inquisitive. Each one contributes its shares, and the several parts are brought to Yokohama or to Tokio, and put together by men who know nothing of the materials that are used, or the way of preparing them. All that,we do here, as you shall see, is to bind the bombs into shape, and make the engines from which they are thrown into the air.’

He opens the side door, and leads the way to a large yard where half a dozen labourers are occupied in adjusting the component parts of instruments which closely resemble the ordinary cannon of our artillerists, but which are all formed of wood, instead of hard metal. They are of various sizes, the smallest being about one foot in length and having an interior diameter of one or two inches, while the largest are seven feet long, with a bore of six inches. For the sake of convenience they are made in two part?, each like the half of a big gun that has been split from the mouth to the breech, and are afterward strapped firmly together with strips of bamboo, in the same manner that buckets and tubs are fastened, bub continuously, from end to end. A large proportion of the butt is left solid, t.o be planted in the ground when the engine is discharged. ‘ All our fireworks, as you are aware,’ says Mr Hirayama,. 4 are shot upward to a great height before they are ignited. That is what chiefly distinguishes, them from the fireworks of other countries. I know in America you also use mortars and bombs, but not for the same effects that we strive for. You have rockets, too, but they are guided in a manner which would not be satisfactory to us. The stick is a very uncertain rudder, and you can never be absolutely sure as to the direction your projectile will take. Moreover, the propelling material is almost entirely expended when the rocket has reached its loftiest point. Our display only begins at that- stage. In fact, the shooting from the mortar is a mere mechanical necessity, and forms no part of the exhibition.’

4 Do you always use wooden guns, Mr Hirayama? It seems as if iron or steel would be more durable.’ 4 They would; but there are reasons why our delicate mixtures would be ineffective if thrown from instruments of metal. I am not at liberty to give the explanation, but it is so. We find that camphor wood is best suited to our needs, though pine is often sufficient. A well-made gun will beat seven or eight hundred discharges if the missile is sent perpendicularly upward ; if deflected at an angle, the tube wears out more rapidly. We can reach an elevation of twelve hundred yards, beyond which we could not produce good pictorial results. You shall witness the operation if you will kindly accompany me to my practising ground.’ He ushers us into an adjoining open space in which several mortars are standing upright, like cannon set at the corners of sidewalks in old-fashioned New England towns. At his command half-a-dozen bombs are placed ready, one of which he picks up and offers for our inspection.' It is about two feet long and four inches thick, and evidently extremely heavy. ‘This is divided into compartments,’ the proprietor informs us, 4 to the marks on the outer casing. The first holds an explosive charge, which is lighted by a fuse when the bomb is at its proper height. On bursting"’it releases the contents of the second compartment, which are immediately distributed in the air. In the third section another explosive charge is deposited, the shock of which lets loose the burden of the fourth. Thus it goes on until the eight divisions are disposed of. Sometimes we have a larger number, but more generally less. If you watch me you will observe that in loading the mortar I drop the bomb so that the first compartment with its fuse is at the bottom, resting on the powder. The missile is, however, weighted in a manner which causes it to reverse its position as soon as it leaves the muzzle, and the first compartment swings from below to the top. The successive explosions will take place at the part which is highest in the air. This is necessary to allow free play to the figures and objects as they come out from their hiding places.’ A charge of powder having been poured into the mortar, Mr Hirayama proceeded to lower the bomb slowly and cautiously after it. A match is applied to the touchhole and the compact cylinder soars skyward, too swiftly for us to mark the moment when it turns the half-somersault. As it reaches its extremest elevation a loud report is heard, and behold 1 a mass of fiery serpents is seen writhing and twisting m the air. While these clutch one another in sinuouß embraces, another detonation announces the second disclosure, which represents a flock of majestic and brilliant birds 1 beating their 'out - stretched wings and

sweeping in great circles as they descend towards the earth. The third fulmination brings to view a monstrous cuttle-fish mainly composed of thick smoke, the arms variously coloured, and the body of a dull, heavy hue, against which two luminous eyes shine with contrasting brightness. Once again the bomb explodes, and the last effect is revealed in the guise of a graceful girl, richly clad, waving a fan with one hand while in the other she holds an open umbrella above her head. The birds and the maiden being constructed of lasting materials, float far away, and are carried out of sight by the breeze. The reptiles, embodied in perishable flame and smoke, melt gradually out of existence.

Loud outcries of applause and entreaty resound in Hirayama Ginta’s premises. ‘ How do you do it, Mr Hirayama ?’ ‘Where do those huge creatures come from ?’ ‘ What makes them fly so beautifully ?’ ‘ How can you make living things out of file and smoke ?’

‘ Can you do it every time, or was this a splendid accident ?’ ‘ Do, Mr Hirayama, pray tell us all about

The worthy manufacturer is embarrassed and confused.

‘ Ah, young gentlemen, which of you shall I answer? You know I cannot tell you everything, but if you will look carefully about you as you go through my little store-house you will see as much as it is proper for me to let you know.’ We use our eyes with all the strength we can exert, but detect ho clue to the mysteries upon which Mr Hirayama depends for his magical combination of light and shadow. We do, however, get an insight into his methods of folding human figures and other well-defined objects compactly into slender tubes, and creating large scenic effects by projecting them into the atmosphere. We discover that the fair ladies, gallant knights, dragons, tigers, temples, palaces all his collection of rerial images—are made either of delicate silk or of a soft and thin, but remarkably cohesive paper, dexterously cut and sewn together, and brilliantly painted. To enable them to assume their proper posture when released from confinement in the chambers of the bombs, they are as ingeniously provided with springs, wires, and elastic bands as the paraphernalia of a conjuror. Without the utmost nicety of adjustment they could never be expected to leap forth from obscurity into, the fulness of their picturesque proportions. Small leaden weights aie affixed to certain parts of the frames, and holes are cut for the admission of air, to keep them inflated and buoyant. All these contrivances re quire to be calculated with the minutest exactitude, and yet in the extemporised exhibition with which Mr Hirayama entertains his young guests, not a single flaw is visible, and no irregularity occurs to mar its perfect precision. Having inspected the packing of these articles in their cases, we feel that the principle of their development is no longer an enigma ; but the problems of fire and smoke are still beyond our grasp. We are allowed to see and touch the various ingredients—powders, pastes, filings of iron and steel pulverised sands, flasks of variegated fluids—but we know that the master of ceremonies will not under any circumstances lay bare the secrets that lie hidden among them, and from what he has told us we are not altogether sure that he could do so if he would.

We are about to take leave of Mr Hirayama when he intimates that he has a surprise in store for us, which he trusts will prove agreeable. A bomb of larger diameter than those he has previously exploded, but with only three compartments, is hurled toward the sky. and as.it breaks asunder a superb ship unfolds itself and rides tranquilly in the unfamiliar element. It is a fine piece of workmanship, but not more remarkable than others they have preceded it, and we fail to comprehend why it has been reserved especially for the parting demonstration. Regarding it with puzzled eyes, we discern a small object climbing up the main mast, and fastening itself at the peak. A few seconds later the flag of the United States streams out in all the radiance that coloured vapours can give it, with the alternating stripes clearly defined, and the stars sparkling brightly on their blue field. At the same moment a broadside flashes through the open port holes, and we have the satisfaction of exchanging farewells with our amiable host under the banner of our native land, while the smoke of saluting cannon rises and mingles with its folds. This is the last, and not the least, gratifying incident of our friendly visit, and we march away, fervently hoping that the glories of Japanese pyrotechnic art may soon be made known to all nations, and that, if possible, Hirayama Ginta may be its herald and prophet.