Had well become a princely court.
I never learned who Madame Sannomiya was in Europe, nor how she came to decide upon so unusual a marriage and the consequent residence. But I knew before she spoke that she was no adventuress. She had had character and position all her life. Her every word and motion proclaimed it. She had been facile in the ways of many a Western Court before she became one of the Court circle of Japan.
She was a tall, large woman, with a plain, strong face. She had a quantity of waving fair hair which she wore elaborately dressed. Her even teeth were large and white. Her hands were over large, but surpassingly beautiful. When I first saw her she wore a soft pink cashmere house-robe; it was touched here and there with sage-green, which might have been Japanese; but I was sure it was French.
I have rarely met a better-informed woman than Madame Sannomiya, and never one who gave me more the impression of quiet force. She had just come back from Kioto, where she had been sent as the representative of the Empress to the Tsarevitch; for I am writing of a time a few days after the attempt upon the life of his Imperial Highness.
Great preparations had been made in Tokio for the reception of the Russian prince. The Japanese Court was like a nursery full of children about to give a tea-party. All the detail of the elaborate arrangements had devolved upon the master of ceremonies, Mr. Sannomiya. Everything had been so admirably planned that I shall always believe it had in reality evolved from the active, capable brain of his English wife. Then the attempt was made upon the life of the son of the “Great White Monarch” just as he was entering Japan. The Japanese Court was like a beehive turned upside down! It was a burlesque reign of terror. Every one that could went to bed. The Empress set the example; her Majesty kept her bed for weeks and spent the time crying. The entire nation seemed to expect the Russian fleet to swoop down upon their little island and sink it for ever in the deep ocean. The Mikado hastened to the Tsarevitch at Kioto, and the Empress sent Madame Sannomiya with him. It was the most sensible thing she could possibly have done. Madame Sannomiya was charmed with his Imperial Highness, and with his princely, generous way of passing over and making light of an incident which very nearly cost him his life, and which did curtail his pleasant trip, for his Imperial mother very naturally insisted upon his immediate return home. What mother would not have done so? For weeks the Japanese Court eschewed all festivities.
A reaction against Western influence had already begun. This contretemps fanned it into a flame. That is not altogether to be regretted. It was a pity to see the clear, bright tints of Japanese life shrouded by the gray of our duller Western existence. It was a crime for the women of Japan to disfigure their forms (or lack of form) with inappropriate European gowns. I gloated over Japan; it feasted my eyes and my mind. I rejoice to feel that the characteristics of her people are to be preserved yet a little longer. Madame Sannomiya, who, I am sure, loved Japan and sought its welfare, felt this keenly. She was, however, ambitious for the Imperial family to have the broadest cosmopolitan culture. Nor was she a woman of passive ambitions. She told me how she had deplored the adoption of European dress by the women of Japan.
It was the second time I visited Madame Sannomiya that she took me into her dining-room. Above the wainscoting hung a remarkable collection of framed photographs. They were all of “great folk” and all were autographed. Almost every crowned head in Europe was represented there. The largest and the most handsomely framed of the photographs was of Queen Victoria. Madame Sannomiya was very proud of it, and of the letter her Majesty had sent with it. The Duke of Connaught was ill in Japan. Madame Sannomiya nursed him. When his Royal Highness had returned to England, his Queen-mother sent a note of thanks and her picture to the woman who had the good fortune to serve the Duke.
I do not know why she was called “Madame” Sannomiya. Her cards are engraved “Mrs. Yoshitane Sannomiya,” but “Madame” she invariably is throughout Japan.
She always spoke of the Empress with great and almost tender affection. I can well understand that her sovereign lady has come to lean upon her, and often finds it easier to bid Madame Sannomiya decide for her than to decide for herself. Certainly “Madame” is extremely influential, and I think she enjoys her influence. No woman in Japan, not of the immediate blood-royal, is so free of her Majesty’s bedchamber; yet no one seems jealous. Added to the gift of strength, she has the grace of tact.