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.
Hortense finds herself back in a marriage that she hates and it leads her to suicidal ideation. Napoleon finally sees Hortense again and orders her to keep it together which results in her not liking him much either.
Hortense’s memoirs continues:
I could not succeed in concealing from my husband a sort of fear and even a physical repulsion I felt at our reunion. He desired it so ardently and seemed so pleased that our reconciliation took place at Toulouse.
We traveled back to Paris by very short stages through southern France. Our only companions were Madame de Broc and Monsieur Lasserre, our physician. We maintained the strictest incognito, this allowing us to see all the points of interest in the different towns through which we passed.
At Montpellier, where I happened to be on Sunday, I was amazed to see a crowd of young men, wearing white robes and hoods, going in and out of the church without any appearance of reverence or even ordinary restraint in their manner. I was placed in a quiet corner of the building with Madame de Broc.
The young men noticed our presence, and all eyes were fixed on us with so much attention that we felt embarrassed and rather scandalized, especially by the thought that priests could so forget their sacred mission. Later that evening the archbishop told me all these young men were laymen, members of a brotherhood of White Penitents, who paid so much attention to the pomp of their own services that those of the main church suffered.
Hearing this I was no longer so surprised at the indiscreet way in which we had been examined, but found it curious that these young men should have chosen this particular form of amusement. I visited the College of Soreze and the pool of Saint-Ferreol where two streams flow in different directions and form that Canal du Midi which unites the two seas.
At Nimes I admired in detail some architectural remnants of the Roman occupation. At Avignon I was shown the spot on which so many atrocities were committed during the Revolution. Here was a new reason to be grateful to the Emperor for having put an end to so much civil turmoil.
I wished to see the fountain of Vaucluse. While my husband amused himself composing verses and carving them on trees which bordered the stream, I approached close to its not very impressive abyss and was seized with some inexpressible terror when I drank the waters.
Was it because this fountain had witnessed the ecstasies and inspired the lyricism of an especially sensitive soul? Was it some memory of those fabled fountains which possessed the power of troubling even the most unblemished mind? I cannot tell the cause, I can only describe what I felt.
In those spots where others have loved ardently one's heart is conscious of its capacity to experience passion and fears it all the more keenly. Mine, when I penetrated beneath its surface, showed me that there was still much to be done before I really destroyed what I flattered myself had been crushed long ago. Leaving the lonely shades of Vaucluse, which after the Pyrenees are not remarkable except as they recall the memories of Laura and Petrarch, we arrived in a little town in which the inhabitants recognized us.
The crowd unhitched our horses and dragged us through the streets with all that enthusiasm which is characteristic of southern races. Who would have dared predict that in that same country, so enthusiastic towards the Empire, only a few years later a Marshal of France would be assassinated and the life of the Emperor be in danger? That is what the favor of the mob amounts to, and yet it is the crowd that knows best how to acclaim its favorites. Fortunately, the ovation of which we were the object did not last long.
Nevertheless, it was almost necessary to use force in order to regain our freedom. Farther along the route we passed unrecognized.
But at every town where I remembered that one of my former school-mates was living I had her informed of my presence and felt delighted at this opportunity of catching a glimpse of my old friends. We had only gone as far as Lyons, and already I felt I could scarcely continue to endure the fatigue. It was in August. The heat exhausted me extremely, and my husband's indifference to my comfort proved that there was not much improvement to be hoped for on my return home.
The love he declared he felt for me did not seem compatible with his lack of attention. Consequently, instead of gaining courage, I felt it ebbing from me more and more. One day our carriage broke down, and we were nearly hurled over a precipice. I remained inside without becoming excited and exclaimed, "Ah, at last the moment has arrived." But nothing happened and we escaped this peril.
On another occasion we were over-taken by a terrific storm. The lightning was so violent and so continuous that we feared it might blind us. We were in the very heart of the storm. I thought how welcome death would be and awaited in joyful anticipation the bolt that would bring me that blessing.
How unhappy one must be, and how utterly wretched one must feel, to arrive at such a state of self-abandonment, opposed to all the laws of nature! But soon I was to experience vastly different emotions. We arrived at Saint Cloud after nightfall. The court was attending a theatrical performance. My mother left it in order to come and greet me. My son was brought to me fast asleep. I pressed him to my bosom, and the feeling I had on being again among these beings who were so dear to me showed me I had recovered all my capacity for emotion.
I wept bitter tears when the Emperor entered the room. "Ah, there you are!" he exclaimed joyfully. After embracing me he noticed my tears. "What's the meaning of this? You must stop behaving so childishly. You have cried long enough over your son. Do you want to be like a 'Nina' of maternal devotion? You are not the only woman who has suffered such a loss, but other mothers are braver than you are. Especially when they still have children to love and when they, like you, have duties to perform. Your child needs you, your kingdom is begging you to return and you are saddening your mother's heart. I admit that I have not found you as brave as I expected you would be. What an idea to go off mountain-climbing instead of remaining with your mother and your son! You have been unjust to them in seeking elsewhere consolation for your grief. If I had been here, I would not have tolerated such behavior. But now you are back, smile, be gay, indulge in the amusements of youth, and don't let me see a single tear."
He left the room after having delivered this lecture, not guessing for an instant how deeply his words had wounded me. It was true that the flow of my tears ceased, but in their place came a feeling a thousand times more painful.
"Can this be what people call the kindness of the Emperor?" I said to my mother. "I thought of him as being more considerate. It is easy to see he does not know in the least what maternal affection is. Heavens, how can he reproach me for weeping? I scarcely cried at all and if he does not understand my very natural emotion in finding myself once more in the midst of you all, it must be because his heart is shut to all natural human feelings. Is it possible that he does not understand them at all? I admit the sight of my sorrow may displease him. Therefore, I do not seek to remain here. Let me go away."
My mother sought to quiet me. "You do not understand the Emperor's nature," she said. "He believes you increase your grief by giving way to it unrestrainedly.
He had told me in advance that he would speak severely to you because he considered that was the only way you could be cured. But you may be sure he shares your sorrow. He speaks of it very often to me, and his cold attitude toward you was prompted solely by his interest in your welfare."
The original French is available below:
