英語訳
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**Damage to the Sericulture Industry**
According to inquiries made with district officials, the damage expected to be inflicted on the sericulture industry of the three districts of Hida Province next year, due to damage to mulberry fields from this year's floods, is anticipated to be extremely great. The average annual output until now had been 250,000 kan of cocoons, requiring 5,000,000 kan of mulberry leaves as the norm. The mulberry trees cultivated across the three districts were sufficient to supply that 5,000,000 kan with some to spare. However, as a result of this flood disaster, it is expected that next year's mulberry leaf harvest will amount to no more than 4,000,000 kan, meaning that the resulting cocoon production will be approximately 200,000 kan. In conclusion, it is said that a loss of 20 percent of the average crop—that is, 50,000 kan of cocoons—will be unavoidable.
**Damage along the Miyagawa River Banks**
The Miyagawa River originates at Mount Kuraikura, flows through the center of Takayama Town, and joins the Kawakami River as a tributary of the upper Jintsū River. The peak flood volume of this river occurred between 9 p.m. and midnight on July 21st, rising 12 to 13 shaku above normal water levels. Not a single village along its banks escaped some degree of damage, but the most severe destruction was seen in Miya Village at the northern foot of Miya Pass, and in Ōnaida Village. In Miya Village, eleven houses were swept away. Even the police substation building, which had been lauded as exceptionally solid construction rarely seen in the neighborhood, was the very first to be smashed to pieces, and its grounds along with the mulberry fields and paddies of some 13 chō nearby all became a wide expanse of riverbed. During the height of the flood, the villagers abandoned all their belongings and took refuge in the kagura hall and votive picture hall of Mina Jinja Shrine—a shrine of the Kokuhei Shōsha rank—and even those who had lost their homes could be seen sheltering there. The total length of embankment breaches in this village reached 1,146 ken. Pressing further on to Ōnaida Village, the residence of Heisei Hassuke, reputed to be the wealthiest household in the village, along with one other house, was utterly pulverized without a trace remaining. Nearby fields were either transformed into riverbeds or buried under piles of gravel and stones, rendered useless. Because the current had been so violently swift, the family members barely escaped with their lives, while most of their possessions were swept away by the current. After the water receded, only about 100 bales of rice were retrieved from downstream. When one ventures to ask the villagers about their situation,
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they speak, unable to wipe away their tears, of how they are at a loss from morning to night as to how they will sustain their livelihoods henceforth. It is a pitiful sight to behold.
**Collapse of the Hillside in Takayama Town**
At around 8 p.m. on July 21st, in the midst of a torrential downpour, the hillside behind Shimakawahara-chō in Takayama Town—the former site of the castle's third enclosure—collapsed with a tremendous and terrifying roar. A section of hill 180 shaku high and 120 shaku wide came crashing down, pulverizing more than ten houses lined up directly below, and continuing across the road to destroy several more houses on the opposite side. Seven residents who failed to escape were killed in a horrific manner, crushed to death. In response to this dreadful event, the local police station sounded the emergency bell, and nearby temples also tolled their warning bells to announce the emergency. Several thousand townspeople raced to the scene, vying to arrive first. However, in the already pitch-dark night, the entire area was enveloped in a fog-like water vapor, so thick that even a person standing directly in front of one holding a lantern could not be identified by their face. Furthermore, a peculiar odor resembling gunpowder smoke assaulted the nose, making it difficult to approach. Nevertheless, survivors buried under the rubble of destroyed houses, clinging to the last thread of life, were heard screaming for help in various places. The people, forgetting all danger, cried out "Over there, help them!" and with spades and hoes in hand made their way toward the voices, digging up earth and casting aside debris in their efforts to rescue the trapped. About an hour into these efforts, at around 9 p.m. that same night, another tremendous roar announced the second collapse. Caught utterly off-guard, the thousands of people who had gathered fled in all directions—some were trapped beneath the tilted remains of half-collapsed houses, others were buried under collapsing ground, and still others fell or were struck by clods of earth and pieces of wood, leaving several hundred with injuries of varying severity. Indeed, Mr. Shimaki Ichijūrō, who had repeatedly visited the author's lodgings during his stay in Takayama and kindly described the situation at the time of the disaster, himself had suffered a sprain to one leg, and it was said that with careful nursing he had only just recently been able to walk outdoors again. Given this state of affairs, the more than 200 households of Shimakawahara-chō, which stood at the base of the collapsed hillside, grew ever more fearful, not knowing when another collapse might come, and simply to preserve their lives, abandoned their household belongings and fled elsewhere. Meanwhile, the people of the surrounding neighborhoods who had fortunately escaped harm
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were caught up in a frantic mix of providing relief provisions, excavating the crushed-to-death victims, and managing general chaos—when to make matters even worse, fires broke out in two locations from the wreckage of the destroyed houses, and it was impossible to tell what great catastrophe might next unfold. Accepting the loss of the houses to fire as unavoidable, the townspeople resolved at least to excavate the bodies of those crushed to death and return them to their families, so while fighting the fires on one hand, they urgently pressed on with the excavation of the dead on the other. Their efforts were rewarded: the fires were extinguished before long, and all the bodies were successfully recovered without incident—with only one body having had its buttocks slightly singed. Then at around 7 a.m. on the following morning, the 22nd, a third collapse occurred, but it amounted to nothing more than further damage to areas already destroyed the previous day, and it then subsided. Furthermore, what was observed firsthand at the scene suggested that the section of hillside that had collapsed had, for a long time previously, been experiencing internal subsidence without anyone's awareness, as evidenced by a hollow some five sun in diameter that had formed along the narrow path at the crest. Additionally, two days before the collapse, water had spurted out from the hillside's mid-slope, and notably, there had always been a place directly below it at ground level where water perpetually seeped up from the ground. A merchant who had built his residence there was said to have made use of this water to create a garden spring in his backyard. Considering all of these signs together, it is clear that this collapse was by no means a sudden event, but had in fact been showing premonitory signs for some time.
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**Flood Damage in Mie Prefecture**
**Flood Damage in Mie Prefecture**
In the vicinity of Tsu City, from around dusk on July 19th, intermittent showers arrived, and around 1 a.m. on the 20th a sudden strong wind arose, accompanied by the sound of distant thunder, giving every appearance that a great storm was about to strike. People, startled from their sleep, lay awake anxious as to how the weather would turn. By around 4 a.m. there was still no sign of the rain letting up; on the contrary, the wind was steadily increasing, and with fierce rain added to it, the wind gradually reached its peak intensity, stripping roof tiles, blowing over window shutters, snapping trees, and whirling up gravel and sand—the ferocity was indescribable. Around daybreak, both wind and rain began to diminish somewhat, and by 8 a.m. they temporarily let up.
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But thereafter, sudden showers came again and again, and the dark and gloomy conditions continued, so all the shops in town closed their doors, the streets were entirely devoid of human figures, and from indoors one heard only the sound of relentlessly pouring rain. As a result, the major rivers of Mie Prefecture—the Miyagawa, Machiya River, Kumozugawa, Mitaki River, Kushidagawa, and Suzukagawa—all experienced extreme flooding, and the surrounding farmlands took on the appearance of lakes. The damage to rice paddies and wheat fields was a devastating sight, and there were no small number of bridges swept away, roads damaged, houses collapsed, and human and animal casualties.
**Damage in Matsusaka Town**
As for building damage, the theater Aiei-za in Atago-chō, which was under new construction and approximately 80-90% complete, was magnificently blown over, with only one or two front pillars left standing—a sorry sight. The Hinode-za theater at Atago Baba was also about 90% destroyed. The fire-watch bell at the police substation in the same area apparently was swung by the wind, with the bell alone falling to the ground and burying itself two or three sun into the earth. The chimney of the Mino-sei Glass Manufacturing Company in Shinmachi (considered the tallest in Matsusaka) snapped about one shaku and seven or eight sun above ground, crushing two nearby rental houses and injuring two people. The chimney of the Nishii Sake Brewery in Hiraoi-machi (considered the second tallest in Matsusaka) also snapped in the wind, but fortunately fell into a rice field and caused no injuries.
**Damage in Yokkaichi**
The harbor breakwater was destroyed for a stretch of approximately 500 ken, with a further 100-ken stretch destroyed to the south of Takasago-chō, and yet another 70-ken stretch destroyed in Inabamachi.
**The Great Disaster in Nagashima Wajū**
Nagashima Wajū in Kuwana District, Ise Province, had its farmlands reduced to wasteland by the great flood, and residential houses also suffered from inundation. The island residents had all set up makeshift shelters on top of the embankments, barely managing to keep out the rain and dew. In mid-last-month, the repair work to plug the breached embankments was finally completed, and the accumulated water on the island gradually decreased. A few days ago, the residents had straightened their tilted houses, repaired their fallen walls, dismantled the embankment shelters, and moved back into their homes—only to have strong northeast winds and rain strike again from the evening of the 30th. By midnight, the wind had turned to come from the southeast and grew increasingly fierce. The houses on the island, having been long soaked by the floodwaters, could not possibly withstand such a violent storm. Not a few immediately fell victim to complete collapse. Even those that did not fully collapse had their roofs...