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.
Napoleon felt without an heir his reign would end in chaos. Chaos was brought back into France through the trap of pretending to offer Napoleon a legitimate heir through an insincere marriage with an “asset”. This was the plot that succeeded in bringing down sovereign France. We are watching that plot play out in Hortense’s Memoirs.
I’m underlining this to show how nations are brought down from within by agents who study the desires of their targets.
An agent has been trying to bring me down using this method obviously non stop since 2018. She even blurted out to me on twitter, “what are you after?”
What I want is not of this world.
However, I would like to see some real justice in this world so trying to trap me - using my legitimate grievances - to lure me into a fake populist movement via that lawyer psyop was pretty clever. I was, at that point, expecting their operations to be full of actors and sometimes musicians.
Now the spies themselves have taught all of us that the global spy club has plenty of scientists, lawyers and doctors on their payroll as well.
Our education in the spycraft of right now comes from the spies themselves. As they continue their massive cover up of what they are and have been doing, we can continue to learn their methods and what they are covering up so fervently. I’m hoping if we all get serious about shining a bright light on this group, that we can finally see some real beneficial changes for humanity.
Hortense’s memoirs continues:
A few days before he left for Bayonne, I entered his drawing-room to say good-bye. My mother was just leaving the room. The Emperor was sitting down and seemed thoughtful and preoccupied. As he saw me enter, he did not stir but looked at me closely without saying a word, the time for my confinement was very near.
Suddenly he exclaimed: "It hurts me to see you like that. How I would love your mother if she were in that condition!"
Then he again lost himself in thought until the Empress returned. This preoccupation, the sudden exclamation that had escaped him, all seemed to me to prove that he was obsessed and tortured by the idea of a divorce.
Nevertheless, he left with my mother for the south of France, and she was not worried as long as he was at Bayonne where his attention was wholly absorbed by negotiations with Spain. Thus, I found myself alone in Paris, a prey to all my mental anguish, without any consolation other than that which I could find in the company of my ladies in waiting and the officers of my household.
I was convinced myself that the end of my confinement was also to be the end of my earthly life and I did not dread to see this end approaching.
I had become more and more attached to my surviving son. His delicate health required my constant care, but his father's wish that the boy should join him in Holland frightened me and made me foresee further misfortunes. The child fell dangerously ill of a tertian fever. In spite of my own ill health I did not leave his bedside and I felt that other sufferings still were in store for me.
As had been agreed Adele wrote me when occasion offered an exact account of whatever went on in Holland that concerned me. My husband had not been able to prevent public prayers being offered for my recovery, but when surrounded by his courtiers he made biting remarks about me, which wounded Adele to the heart.
He talked about me often with her at this period, telling of the violent love with which I had inspired him, and of the way in which I had ruined his life. He wished always to put all the blame on me but could find only imaginary wrongs of which to accuse me. His unfortunate character caused him constantly to think up new grounds for suspicion, which embittered his feelings still more.
One day the King sent for his surgeon, a man skilled in his art, but rough and uneducated. "I am counting on you," the King said, "to do me a great service. People are anxious I should go to Paris and be present at the Queen's confinement. Perhaps this is a plan to deceive me. Perhaps the child has already been born. I think in fact this is what has happened. You should certainly be able to tell if her pregnancy is a simulated one. The excuse for your trip will be to take my son back with you."
On leaving the King the surgeon told Monsieur de Broc of the errand he was being sent on and Madame de Broc hastened to communicate with me.
At the same time, she advised me to receive the surgeon and take every precaution to convince him of the actual state of my health in order that he might reassure my husband and calm his constantly increasing uneasiness.
Her letter was sent me in a shoe which the surgeon brought with him, little guessing what the package contained. Imagine my state of mind on learning what low means of espionage my husband employed.
He dared put my reputation at the mercy of an utter stranger. The passion which blinded my husband's reason caused him to forget all they prayers he had uttered, the efforts he had made and the resistance he had been forced to overcome in order to secure our reconciliation.
Was he not teaching me that there is a point beyond which the most obstinate desire to insure another person's happiness cannot go? Was it not he who was breaking the mournful chain of duty which I had once more consented to assume?
From that day on my mind was made up I would never again return to him. I was at my son's bedside, suffering from the most intense mental anguish, the result of all the foregoing thoughts, when the surgeon was announced. "Enter, monsieur," I said. "Look at me closely and you can report to the King the exact condition in which you found me." The man stammered, attributed the idea of sending him on such a mission to my husband's ill health and to his natural cast of mind. When he returned to Holland and told the King what had taken place, Louis, unable to believe that anyone could have betrayed him, sent for Monsieur de Broc and declared I must be mad to have spoken in such a manner.
Who is the person whose health and strength could resist such constantly repeated insults and misfortunes? My health had received a fatal blow; it would doubtless have given way completely if the presence of my unborn child had not once more animated my courage. But nothing could dispel a dark and gloomy tinge that colored all my thoughts.
Following the surgeon's depressing visit I daily felt violent pains that seemed to indicate the approach of my confinement. A month went by and I became accustomed to them. I counted that there was still another week to wait. Caroline came and invited me to take my son to a party she was giving that evening for her children.
The original French is available below:
