英語訳
## Map of the Flooding of Six Districts by the Sai River in the Hinoto-Hitsuji Year of the Kōka Era (1847), Summer, Fourth Month, Thirteenth Day
On the night of the twenty-fourth day of the third month of this year (Kichibō, Start of Summer) during the upper period of the Hour of the Pig [around 9–10 PM] (Note: at this time, shooting stars fell like rain; some say that earlier that day a white rainbow-like object was seen in the northwest), the earth of our province of Shinano shook violently. Mountains collapsed and filled valleys, rivers changed course and split the land. Among all the disasters, the one heard of as a particularly rare and great calamity was in Sarashina District (three-plus ri west of Obasuteyama), in the village of Hirabayashi: a high peak called Mt. Kokuzo (also known as Mt. Iwakura) collapsed on both ends (one side was over 30 chō high and 20 chō long, and the two villages of Iwakura and Magose fell into the water), crossing over the majestically flowing Sai River and reaching Minuchi Village in Minochi District (north of Kumejino-Magahashi bridge, over one ri downstream). Rocks and giant trees formed natural embankments (another side was over 15 chō high and 20 chō long, crushing the two villages of Fujikura and Furujuku into the ground), and that great river ceased to leak even a single drop of water. Downstream ferry crossings (Nagaimura, Yamakoichi, Tanbajima, and others below) suddenly lost their water, boats shattered, and people all escaped on foot without even wetting their heels (in this area, because the current was too swift to use poles, large ropes were used to pull boats).
According to one account, at this time someone launched a boat at the Koichi crossing and began rowing toward the middle of the river when suddenly the mountain shook and the river churned; the great ropes all snapped at once, and both the large boats and horse-boats shattered and were hurled to a hill beside the rapids. Within one ri upstream, the water suddenly dried up, the ground split, and a mountain welled up in the middle of the river. The fate of the people and horses there became unknown. Only the master boatman, clutching his sutra, managed to escape to a distant mountaintop. One might say this was truly a case of mountains and rivers exchanging their positions.
Also, a great mountain called Mt. Mushikura collapsed on both sides of its mid-slopes (burying several villages including Iori, Fujisawachi, and Kyohara), blocking the flow of the Tojiri River (consequently submerging the settlements of Iijiri, Ichinose, Nakajō, and others, and drowning the fields). Similarly, the headwaters of the Kanuka River on the mountain's shaded side were also completely blocked, leaving no water passage. Furthermore, the rivers Kayatani, Sarukura, Sakaigawa, Hijiri, Asakawa, Yajya, and Toriigatawa—all along the Sai and Chikuma rivers—saw the land to the northwest crack and collapse with particular severity (mountains, forests, and fields changed in elevation, and in some places mud, water, and fire erupted). Springs and wells ran dry because of this (and at hot springs, amidst the comings and goings, some springs that were hot changed to cold water). Houses toppled and overturned (tiled-roof buildings suffered the most; thatched-roof buildings were also not spared), and flames suddenly broke out. The old and young had no time to look after one another, and even the robust could not avoid being crushed and injured. Those who happened to escape did so with only their bare lives (those who were on upper floors were mostly saved from death).
Above all, Zenkoji Temple (the remaining flames took two days and three nights to extinguish) and Shimmachi (a market town in the Minochi mountains; even at the Hour of the Horse the following day the fire grew stronger; at this time the floodwaters of the Sai River surged backward, and water and fire fought each other, together submerging the town)—from Iizuna Mountain above to Iiyama below—burned for several consecutive days before being brought under control.
◯At this time, there was a grand ceremony for the public display of the Zenkoji Nyorai image, and pilgrims from across the country gathered like clouds, with solemnity surpassing the usual. Suddenly the earthquake struck and fire broke out, spreading to all four directions. Remarkably, the Main Hall, Tower Gate, Bell Tower, and Sutra Repository suffered almost no damage; the head administrator's Daikanjinji suffered only minor damage and did not collapse, fortunately escaping the fire. But the remaining forty-eight sub-temples, halls, pagodas, and lodgings were all reduced to ashes in an instant.
According to records, on the twenty-fourth day of the third month in the second year of Jishō
(1178, Tsuchinoe-Inu), Zenkoji suffered its first fire since its founding.
In the thirty-fourth year of Ōei (1427, Hinoto-Hitsuji), it burned again.
Both of those disasters occurred in years sharing the same cyclical signs as today's,
which may be called a curious matter.
On the twenty-eighth day of the same month (Hinoto-Hitsuji), at dawn, the backed-up water near Kanuka River and Soyama-Kuronami began flowing for the first time. Thereupon, one small boat was put to use at Tanbajima.
On the twenty-ninth day of the same month (Tsuchinoe-Saru), at the Hour of the Horse, there was another great earthquake, and many places in various directions were destroyed (Northern Echigo's Takada and Imamachi were particularly severe, said to surpass the disaster of the twenty-fourth; on the twenty-ninth of the fourth month, Imamachi burned completely).
On the seventh day of the fourth month (Hinoe-Tatsu), at the Hour of the Snake, a great wind suddenly arose and hail fell (at this time the sky to the southwest darkened as if rubbed with ink, heavy rain fell, and worsened further at night; on the following eighth day, it was said that Togakushi Mountain was washed as if by torrential rain).
On the tenth day of the same month (Tsuchinoto-Hitsuji), from the Hour of the Snake to the Hour of the Ram, violent winds arose and uprooted trees (that day, people all believed the Sai River would overflow and fled carrying their belongings; simultaneously great winds occurred across various provinces, and in the region between Owari and Mino, buildings were said to have partially tilted). At the Hour of the Horse, the Tojiri River's blockage broke through (this river originates in Azumi District and enters the Sai River at Daianji Temple; at the time, though the Sai River was dry, the flow was no less than an ordinary flood, and the embankments near Koichi were therefore broken. Before this, orders had been given to move the millet of Kawachi to the east bank and have the elderly and young temporarily reside in the eastern mountains).
Here the Sai River's flow had been stagnant for more than a month and up to twenty days, during which villages along the river sank to the bottom of the water. Upstream it flooded Chikuma and Azumi Districts (piercing through Minochi and Sarashina Districts, near Shōno, Ikazaka, and Uruka), covering approximately eight to nine ri. Within that distance, mountains ranged in succession and the river swirled in eddies; the width—sometimes over 30 chō, sometimes over 10 chō—could not be measured (some say that in late the third month, the Iwakura dam rose seven to eight shaku per day; by early the fourth month, as it gradually widened, it rose only two to three shaku per day and night). Then, since the seventh of this month, violent winds and prolonged rains had continued; the water overflowed at some points and leaked at others, and the second dam held water several jō deep (on the twelfth of the same month, the height of the water's edge was said to be two jō).
On the thirteenth day of the same month (Mizunoe-Inu), rain arrived at the Hour of the Horse and then cleared; at the lower part of the Hour of the Monkey, the mountains to the southwest rumbled (the first dam at Iwakura collapsed, and the sound of billowing waves rolling over and crashing down reached as far as Matsushiro, Suzaka, and Nakano).
(At this time, I—Shōgen—was on Kaidu Saijōzan and heard the sound of the water for quite some time; it was exactly as if it struck one's ears. Shortly thereafter, a signal fire appeared on Mt. Makamiyama to the west.)
Suddenly I saw clouds and mist pouring out of the valley and rushing northeast (this was water spray). At that moment, a fierce wind whipped up grit and sand, and the collapsing waves poured down like rain. The arrival of the advance water was like driving a million wild horses across a plain; the enormous waves surging overflowed until one wondered whether they would send heaven and earth adrift. Mountains seemed to seethe and boil because of it (at that time, the water depth below Mt. Makamiyama was six jō, six shaku, and four sun). The swiftness of the water's momentum: one channel headed south and overwhelmed Koichi and Komatsubara, passed through Imazato and Imai, and reached the Onbei River (passing via the irrigation upper weir, a distance of three ri), finally joining the Chikuma River. Another channel swept through Yotsuya and Nakashima, passed the villages of Sōhokubara (near Senbonmatsu), and at Komori (a hamlet of two houses) they all entered the Chikuma. The sun had already set behind the western mountains. Yet another channel flooded Kitagawara, Umezu, Kaji, and Kami-Hyōtai, swung south around Tanbajima, pierced through Ryōōtsuka and Ojimada, and pushed out onto Hachimanbara. There, all flows converged at Umezu (at that time the Chikuma River rose more than two jō in water level, reaching as far as Mizukami, Yokota, and Shinoi). Night came, and from the start of the disaster, the water extended five to seven ri east to west and reached as far as the Koshi Road to the north and south (on the following fourteenth day at the Hour of the Monkey, the advance water first reached Niigata in Northern Echigo—roughly fifty ri away). There was no place, high or low, without water (by the Hour of the Ox, the water momentum gradually receded, and by dawn it had all dried into three or four large rivers). On the fourteenth day of the same month (Mizunoto-U, clear), looking far into the northern districts (Intoku-oki, Kijimadaira), it appeared vast and boundless like an endless great river.
After several days, the water receded, the ground dried, and all returned to normal.
On the seventeenth day of the same month (Hinoe-Saru), at the Hour of the Ram, thunder suddenly arrived and a violent storm broke roofs (in Saku District and Kai Province; large hail covered the ground, rice seedlings all withered, and agricultural work was abandoned).
On the twenty-eighth day of the same month (Hinoto-Ushi), the sun was dark as night with no luminous halo.
On the twentieth day of the fifth month (Tsuchinoe-Inu), the backed-up water of the Kayatani River broke through and flowed out.
On the twentieth day of the sixth month (Hinoto-Hitsuji), thunder struck several places (burning temple buildings and injuring people and horses).
On the first day of the seventh month (Tsuchinoe-Tora), the second and third days saw repeated tremors day and night.
On the nineteenth day of the same month (Hinoe-Saru), at the lower part of the Hour of the Ox at night, a great tremor shook all directions, and people all made temporary beds in their gardens (at dawn, the backed-up water of the headwaters of the Kanuka River and the Setogawa-ura area broke through, sweeping away houses near Zenkoji).
Now, at the end of the tenth month, the aftereffects (sometimes sudden tremors, sometimes rumblings) are still frequent.
Among the four great elements (earth, water, fire, and wind), water, fire, and wind commonly cause harm, but it had seemed that the great earth was somehow special and exempt from this—and yet what is to be feared above all else is only the earthquake (nai), as Chōmei wrote long ago in his Hōjōki (An Account of My Hut), and indeed his words proved true.