Let’s have another look at Hortense’s Memoirs. If you want to read the book it is available for free at the side bar in English and French. Use the widget on the sidebar to translate the text below into pretty much any language.
One of the obvious agendas in the twisting of Napoleonic history is professing the great popularity of Louis Bonaparte in Holland. The artificial elevation of Louis’ role in history is a sneaky way to throw digs at Hortense and Napoleon - since Louis frequently railed against both. Here Hortense describes how Louis’ jealousy was an all encompassing one.
Hortense’s memoirs continues:
I left Mayence deeply depressed. The season was bitterly cold. Nevertheless, my always delicate health had somewhat improved. I arrived at the Hague a few days after the sad accident at Leyden.
My husband on this occasion had behaved in a manner that had won the admiration of the Dutch. As soon as the news of the explosion reached him, he hastened to the spot, encouraged the rescue-parties, and in order to save those who were injured did not hesitate to expose himself to the danger of being crushed by the tottering walls.
My heart ached as I passed through this city. I wished to do my share in helping the unfortunate victims and I gave twenty thousand francs for those who were the most in need.
My husband objected but I insisted on doing this. As a rule, he did much for the poor. Even in Paris he gave large sums, and in Holland his gifts were enormous. If I happened to give someone a fixed income in response to a request for help, I was sure that if he heard of it, he would double the amount without being asked.
It seemed as though he were trying to efface the impression made by what I had done. I may have been mistaken in thinking this but at any rate I believed it at the time.
Consequently, instead of visiting charitable organizations, helping them extend their work, and in general concerning myself with philanthropy as a queen should do, I only went out driving and displayed the most complete indifference to everything that went on in order to give no grounds for my husband's displeasure.
When I arrived at the Hague, the King had already been there some time. In the evening my ladies in waiting and the officers of his household were in the habit of meeting in his apartments. There was no formality about these receptions and it was more like a family gathering than a royal court.
People played parlor games, and sometimes the fun became even boisterous. As soon as I was back no one was allowed to enter my drawing room any longer. Everything became serious and impressive and even the simplest gatherings were forbidden. One morning, without any reason being given, all the French who had rooms at the palace received orders to leave at once and secure quarters in town.
Not a moment's delay was allowed, and everyone wondered "What can have happened last night? What can be the cause of this abrupt and drastic order?" A little later a still more extraordinary order was issued.
From six o'clock on no one was allowed to enter or leave the palace without a card signed by Monsieur Senegra. Tradespeople were arrested, others thought they would be obliged to spend the night in the halls. Every day there would be misunderstandings and ridiculous situations which people laughed about among themselves and which I heard of only through my young ladies.
I could not see the humor in these incidents as they did, for to me they had too serious a meaning. The Dutch thought at first that all these precautions which they could not understand were due to suspicions regarding them, and they were indignant.
Later, when they discovered that it was all owing to domestic misunderstandings—a thing which surprised them greatly, for we had arrived with the reputation of being a model couple—they paid no more attention to the new regulations. As I always considered my husband's obvious jealousy a public insult, I had been much embarrassed by the first appointments he had made in Holland of the members of my household.
My equerry was the Baron de Renesse, a very worthy man who, had he lived in the days of Cervantes, might have served as model for Don Quixote. The chamberlain Monsieur Van der Dun was still more ridiculous in appearance, although with a fine mind.
The Frenchmen, who always love a joke, insisted that he looked like a Sancho Panza who had swallowed a jumping-jack. The other members of my household were of the same kind. Of all the handsome Brussels guard of honor who formed part of our escort, and of all the young men belonging to the best families of France, who had asked for posts at our court, the King chose only Monsieur de Marmol, a fine man in everything except looks. These appointments were so arbitrary and so evidently inspired by my husband's jealousy that they always annoyed me.
As my equerries were all of them at least sixty years old I never dared ride fast when I went out on horseback on their account. A Frenchman who was only fifty was not allowed to remain long attached to my household. He was ordered back to his regiment and obliged to leave within twenty-four hours.
It was in vain that Monsieur de Caulaincourt, our high chamberlain, intervened, asking that the man be permitted at least to finish his week's service in order not to seem to have been dismissed through some fault of his own.
Monsieur de Caulaincourt's intervention was useless. It appeared that in spite of his years the man might have attracted me. At all the state receptions I went around the room and spoke to everyone. The King told me that I remained standing too long, that it tired him and that it would be enough merely to nod and not stop and speak to those present.
At the following reception I obeyed his instructions. To my surprise I saw that he did exactly what he had forbidden me, going up to each person and making a few pleasant remarks.
Meanwhile I remained alone standing by the chimney and waiting for him to finish. How can such jealousy be explained? I had brought my old friend, the wife of Marshal Duroc, with me from Mayence. She returned to France and took Adele with her. I have already mentioned that the latter was an exception to my husband's universal jealousy and I have spoken of his efforts to gain her esteem.
The original French is available below:
