The memoirs of Napoleon’s stepdaughter and sister in law Hortense was only released in French and English. Now I would like to continue posting Hortense’s Memoirs in English. I’m hoping that the translating tool will be used so that as many as possible can see if they can figure out why and how this is a book that exposes some majors facts about our present reality. The main goal of this project has always been about raising awareness of this book. Hortense was the mother of Napoleon III. The most interesting true stories are the ones they don’t want you to know. The agent who harassed me the most directly by far is a German who was nonstop trying to gaslight me about this book. We also made repeated attempts to make our copy of this book available on Amazon and we could find no way to get them to allow it.
The book is available in the sidebar in French and English if you are interested.
In the passage below, Hortense as a child copes with the execution of her father in an obvious secret society operation which we know today as The Reign of Terror. Hortense is referencing below plans her brother Eugene wishes to make to fight this incomprehensible evil. The following is continued from here.
Thus, our childish plans, which we considered so easy to carry out, helped reassure us and drove away our fears. But they were unable to dissipate our sorrow for our loss or our anxiety over our mother's fate.
She was to have been executed at the same time as my father, but when she heard her name called, she fell in a swoon and when she revived was so weak that it was impossible even to carry her. "We'll take her some other time," declared the men charged with collecting those to be taken to the scaffold."
This took place on the 5th Thermidor [July, 17941]. Four days later the fall of Robespierre put an end to the execution and saved our mother.
CHAPTER II
IN THE DAYS OF THE DIRECTORY (1794-1799)
Josephine's Release—General Hoche and Eugene—Life at Boarding-School—A Dinner with Barras—First Meeting with Napoleon—Bonaparte' s Courtship—Josephine's Marriage—Following the Italian Campaign—Family Alliances—News from Egypt—The Return of Bonaparte—The 18th Brumaire (Establishment of the Consulate).
THE reign of Robespierre was over, but mother had not yet been released, when we received the visit of the celebrated beauty Madame de Fontenay, who later became Madame Tallien. Our visitor petted us and encouraged us with promises that mother would soon be with us again.
This indeed happened a few days after-wards. Tallien had been active in bringing about her release, using his influence to the best advantage. When, afterwards, he asked mother as a favor to receive the woman he had just married and who was attracting a somewhat undesirable amount of attention, could she do otherwise than comply with his request?
General Hoche had been a friend of my father. He had shared his captivity and nearly suffered the same fate, escaping only by a curious accident. In order to increase the number of executions the authorities were in the habit of implicating a certain number of prisoners in imaginary conspiracies among themselves. Instead of being placed with the other prisoners, Hoche as a measure of special severity had been condemned to solitary confinement; hence no charge of this sort could be brought against him. It was to this he owed his life. On his release, after the 9th Thermidor, he resumed his rank, sent for Eugene and took the latter with him when he was appointed commander of the Army of the Vendee, Hoche believed that one cannot begin too soon to form a man's character.
Although Eugene was only thirteen at the time, the General treated him exactly as he would have any other orderly, did not spare him any fatigue and exposed him to every danger. This was the beginning of my brother's military career. It was at this rough school that he became acquainted with the soldiers' ways and learned how to make himself popular with them. But what the General considered merely part of a useful education filled my mother with alarm.
Moreover, Eugene had not completed his regular studies. He was therefore recalled from the army, and he and I were placed at two boarding schools that had just been opened at Saint-Germain-en-Laye.
The one I entered was presided over by Madame Campan, formerly first lady in waiting to Marie Antoinette. Ruined by the fall of her royal mistress, without influence or means but possessing lofty ideals, Madame Campan sought by the use of her superior intelligence and fine mind to earn her livelihood and retain her independence.
Such was the woman to whose care I was now confided and who devoted herself to me with all of a mother's affection and understanding. More anxious to develop our spiritual natures than merely to cultivate such natural accomplishments as we happened to possess, she nevertheless pointed out constantly, by striking examples, the uses we could make of the latter. The misfortunes that befell Marie Antoinette and to which Madame Campan often referred made a deep impression on me. I was particularly struck to discover the amount of harm that can be done through malicious gossip and to note what changes of fortune may befall even persons of the highest rank.
The conduct of certain Frenchmen who had sought refuge abroad and who, while there, were willing to stoop to begging rather than earn a living by honest toil taught me another lesson. I felt that to be truly independent one must first acquire those things that insure this independence, in other words, strength of character and a sound education.
I sought earnestly to develop these qualities although handicapped by a too great natural facility of execution which interfered with serious concentration. But I was the more assiduous in my efforts as my mind was constantly haunted by the thought of my mother's captivity and my father's tragic fate.
My imagination was still so dominated by these memories that I constantly felt a menace suspended over me. The thought of being able to overcome it filled me with delight, and I rejoiced in the idea that no matter what Fate might have in store for me I should never stoop or humiliate myself. But the future did not always wear such a gloomy aspect.
Adele Auguié, niece of Madame Campan, a girl of my own age with a divinely sweet disposition, had become my closest friend, the depositary of my innermost thoughts. To her I described the romance of my life as it was to be in the days to come. "I intend to be happy," I used to say, "for I shall be ready to meet whatever may befall me. My ambition is to acquire moral courage. Armed with that one need fear nothing. I want my husband, whoever he may be, to love me. To win his affection I shall educate myself in such a way that if he proves too worldly, I shall know how to make him more serious minded, if he is jealous, I shall be ready to sacrifice all social pleasures for his sake. In short, I shall cure him, whatever ailment he may have."
We spent the greater part of our recesses in such conversation, and as I grew older these ideas became more and more firmly fixed in my mind. Although less high strung than I, my friend came to share my views. I had preached them with all the fervor of my convictions till she had adopted them as her own.
It is with pleasure I dwell on these early years, the only happy days I ever had. Never again did I wield as absolute a power as that which my schoolfellows conferred upon me. Why did they do so? They could not surmise the rank my family later would occupy. Was it because certain natural gifts attract as much attention at boarding school as they do in society? Was it because I was more advanced than the others in my studies, first in music, in drawing, in dancing, the fastest runner, the best at games as well as in the classroom?
No, I believe I owed my popularity, the sort of suzerainty I possessed, to my constant, all absorbing desire to be loved, a desire which expressed itself in every one of my actions. I was so afraid of creating jealousy that I sought to conceal anything that made me look superior to the rest. For instance, I had at boarding school a very beautiful lace veil. Not only would I not wear it, but I would not even let my fellow pupils see it for fear it might make them envious. I disliked having the teacher hold me up as a model and was tempted to make a deliberate mistake so that the other girl might not feel humiliated. At any rate I always found an excuse for her. I was frequently called upon to decide controversies between two of my comrades, and my verdict was received with respect.
