The day was fortunately fine and exceptionally warm for November. We started from the Imperial Hotel in Tokio, where we were staying, at about half-past one, Colonel S. and his wife from Hongkong sharing a carriage with us.
Japanese horses are willing little beasts, not much larger than ponies. Our coachman drove full gallop through the streets, and the ‘betto,’ or footman, ran along in front shouting at the crowds to get out of the way. How an accident was avoided I do not know, as the streets seem to be the playground of all the children in Tokio; and I thought several of the little doll-like figures must have been run over. Our driver and betto wore dark blue linen with a crest embroidered on their backs, and large white pith hats fastened under the chin with a strap.
OUR INVITATION-CARDS WERE VERY LARGE AND THICK (p. 52).
Colonel S., who was only passing through Japan on his way to England, had no frock-coat with him, but in his well-cut dark suit and top-hat we all thought he could not fail to pass muster. We were mistaken, however. On our arrival at the palace, we were ushered into a large hall where a row of officials in blue-and-gold uniforms were waiting to inspect us. As the gallant Colonel passed up the room, two of the officials stepped up to him, pointed to his frockless coat, began gesticulating wildly and talking rapidly in Japanese, of which the Colonel did not understand a word. My father, who speaks Japanese, attempted to explain matters, but without success. The discomfited and disappointed officer had to retire, leaving his wife, who fortunately had on the required silk dress, to go on with us alone.
After walking about half a mile through the grounds, which are very beautiful, over little bridges and up little winding paths, we arrived at some large tents, where the chrysanthemums were on show. Numerous groups of people were dotted about--Japanese officers and officials in uniform; others in grotesquely-cut frock-coats and opera-hats; their wives and daughters in European dress; also members of the different legations and consulates. I could not help thinking how far better the little Japanese ladies would have looked in their own national costume, but European dress is the strict order at Court. The scene was a very picturesque and animated one, and great excitement prevailed when, about half-past two, the Emperor and Empress were announced to be coming. The Corps Diplomatique arranged themselves in line--first the French Minister as doyen, with his wife, daughters, secretaries, and Belgian staff; then followed the English, German, American, Spanish, Dutch, Italian, Russian, Chinese and Korean diplomats, the two latter looking very picturesque in their quaint head-dresses and long robes. The remainder of the guests stood in a group a little apart.
As the Royal procession appeared in sight, walking slowly up the winding paths, the band played the Japanese National Anthem and there was dead silence amongst the crowd.
The Emperor walked first in full General’s uniform, quite alone. He is a tall man for a Japanese, stout and extremely plain. He had a stern, somewhat forbidding expression, which he always wore in public; and as Sir Edwin Arnold says, ‘The slightest bend of his brow in salutation appears to be the result of superhuman effort of reluctant will.’ Yet he is idolized by his people; it is said that his power is enormous, while no one knows how he controls and rules the Empire from the privacy of his walled-in palace.
Behind him walked the Empress, quite alone also, dressed in crimson brocaded satin with a little Paris bonnet to match, followed by her ladies-in-waiting and the Court officials and Ministers of State--amongst them the Marquess Ito, Count Oyama, and General Yamagata, all well-known names in Europe at the present time.
They bowed low as they passed us, and we kept up a succession of bobs and curtsies until we joined into line and followed the procession into the flower-tents.