IN 1906, MITFORD – Lord Redesdale – is now nearly seventy, but still has plenty of spring in his step. Edmund Gosse penned an affectionate portrait of him in his later years, describing him as a sort of ‘Prince Charming’:

He would, Gosse continued, stroll ‘down Pall Mall, exquisitely dressed, his hat a little on one side, with a smile and a nod for every one’.

It was now thirty-three years since he had last been in Japan and he had probably given up on visiting it again. There was no chance that he could in any way acknowledge Tomi and Omitsu, his high position in British society depending upon a respectable front that they could not be a part of. And a return as a dimlyremembered bit player in the Meiji Restoration, attempting to trade on connections made so long before, would not have been a good way to go back.

Fortunately, the perfect opportunity arose to revisit in style: sent by the King to assist his nephew in bestowing Britain's old est order of chivalry, the Order of the Garter, on Emperor Meiji. Mitford would get the chance to relive the greatest adventure of his life and be feted as Britain's highest-ranking expert on the country. With the added elements of royalty and honours, combined with the most luxurious travelling arrangements possible, it was a dream come true for him. In addition, it would give him the chance to publish another book on the country – an account of the trip – this time certain that it would be gobbled up by the public; the triumphant reception of Puccini's Madame Butterfly two years earlier was evidence that enthusiasm for Japan in the West was still going strong.

The British had been very reluctant to give the Garter to non-Christians, the Shah of Persia being the only one who had received it so far, so it did seem to be a distinct honour, even for an Emperor.