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.
The key words of Hortense’s Memoirs are contained in the passage below and I will place this quote of hers here as well: “my affection for certain people meant more to me than anything else in the world, and in my position, there was no way in which I could express that affection.”
The passage below also describes Hortense’s interaction with two very likely international spy system “assets”, Napoleon’s sister Caroline and Charles de Flahaut. I believe this passage shows how this spy system uses those they control to toy with their targets (wittingly or unwittingly ) and to deliberately harm them. There is a “hidden hand” destroying the lives of Napoleon and Hortense. This is clearly shown in this book if you know how to spot this hidden hand at work.
That this deliberate destruction is so clearly illustrated should hopefully help the public to see that a lot of our problems are engineered to occur and that’s why improvement has been so very difficult for us our entire lives.
It is an illusion to believe that it is “easy” to go along with the international spy system and that going along with them is a path to “success”. It is really a path to misery and bondage and to becoming a traitor to one’s own humanity and to one’s own nation.
I’m openly going against that system because I am absolutely fed up with what they have been doing to me and others. I feel the only way to save my soul is to resist this dark global entity. I feel I have no choice but to stand up for my true interests and the interests of humanity. I will continue to do everything I can to shine a bright light on what they are trying to do to me and us for as long as I can and I hope that my dear reader will choose to help me.
Hortense’s memoirs continues:
What good could such advice do to a broken spirit? Affairs in Spain were becoming serious. The Prince of the Asturias had seized the throne from his father. The Emperor summoned them both to Bayonne. My mother often told me how, on this occasion, the anger and hatred of the parents toward their son expressed itself with a directness and vivacity such as our Northern and more controlled natures find difficult to understand.
The father seemed to find a sort of joy in surrendering his crown as long as it should not be given to his son. The throne was bestowed on Joseph, at that time King of Naples.
Consequently, the throne of Naples became vacant. Caroline at once left for Bayonne and returned shortly afterwards proud and triumphant at having been made Queen of Naples. I could not understand her satisfaction. She had been happy where she was with her husband, free from the cares of state and the obligations of authority.
Rich, surrounded by everything that can insure comfort and confer happiness on others, yet she was willing, even anxious, to set aside all this in order to obtain a crown.
Indeed, the thought delighted her. Happiness consists in a harmony between our tastes and our position in society. Why was it that I could not appreciate the brilliant, distinguished life Fate offered me as highly as I would have done the calm tranquillity of some more modest lot?
Probably because my affection for certain people meant more to me than anything else in the world, and in my position, there was no way in which I could express that affection. To be sure I had abandoned all my youthful dreams of domestic bliss and for years had not dared even to think of them again. Sorrow was all that life held for me. How could it be otherwise since the bond of matrimony which I believed should be the fairest portion of my existence was its most galling burden? My children's life, their mother's reputation were at stake in this question of my leaving or remaining in France. It was absolutely necessary that I look after my sons in that Country and there too I felt that I must gain the appreciation of the persons whose opinion mattered.
That other affection for Monsieur de Flahaut, whose appeal I had so long resisted, appeared to have been transformed into a tender friendship, a friendship such as my heart desired and which could console me for the unjust opinion people were beginning to have of my conduct.
Who knew me better than the man I had loved so dearly in the past? Who could better appreciate my force of character than he whom I had so long avoided in spite of the strength of my inclination for him? Since the last campaign he had remained in Germany.
The war was over. I no longer worried over the question of his safety. He sympathized with the misfortunes which had befallen me and had written me several times. On his way to take the waters in the Pyrenees he passed through Paris. I discovered that his sentiments toward me, his respectful admiration had not changed, and I felt that at least this friendship might prove a source of support for me in my affliction.
It was in such feelings as these that I sought consolation for all the affection that I failed to find elsewhere.
Consequently, I did not seek to hide from the man who seemed worthy of my confidence either my sorrows, or the extent of my discouragement, or the hopes which I placed in him.
“Friendship," I told him, "is the noblest sentiment the human heart can conceive. But at the same time, it is also the most difficult to achieve since it constantly demands perfection. Love demands only a tender reciprocity of feeling. Friendship requires also nobility of ideals.
Anyone can be a lover, but how many people know how to remain friends? In other words, how many people can treat another human being with that frankness which admits one's own mistakes combined with that tolerance which accepts the weaknesses of others? Hence do not fear to confide in me your affection for another woman.
I insist that you do so. I am sure of myself I can bear both my grief and yours too. I want only to be the consoler of misfortune, which is so frequent that to seek its remedy it is to assume a duty both arduous and sweet."
Monsieur de Flahaut remained only a few hours in Paris. My complete yielding to all those emotions which I considered quite innocent had perhaps a tendency to fill my mind with new hopes as vain as the old ones had been.
I was preparing more disappointments for myself, which I should become aware of as by degrees I discovered the truth. But as yet I did not surmise what lay before me. The mutual confidence we had promised one another was enough for me.
My resolve to forgive whatever there might be to forgive removed all fears of ever being deceived by my friend. One day I went to see Caroline whom I found in the midst of preparations for her departure for her new kingdom.
She hurried about, now inspecting her traveling carriages, now coming back to speak to me, then dashing off to give an order with a smile, returning the next instant to shed a tear.
“Hortense," she finally said to me, "I must confess to you my grief at leaving France in spite of the crown which Fate has placed on the head of my children. You have never guessed the depth of my affection for Monsieur de Flahaut.
How often have I feared that his feeling for you was equally intense! You are the only woman in the world I should have feared as a rival. He seemed to care for you, but this affection was only a fictitious one.
Although he was young and frivolous, it is impossible he could love anyone as he did me. It is impossible twice to experience the feelings I aroused, and had it not been for my duties and my love for Murat I do not know whether I should have been able to resist his advances.
I dread the despair the news of my departure will cause him. He will perhaps try to console himself in your company, but promise me not to take him seriously.
He must remain faithful to me. He has cared for me too dearly to do otherwise. The idea that another woman might attract him would be torture for me."
I had let her finish her sentences without interrupting her. My breath failed me. Part of what she was telling me I already knew, but it seemed as though I was hearing it for the first time, so intense was my pain. I collected all my courage and replied "Why should you fear me? You know nobody is interested in me."
“You are the only woman I am afraid of," she replied emphatically. "I cannot tell how you do it, but you have a secret for attracting men and making them admire and sympathize with you. There are women more beautiful than you are. For instance, I know I am the better-looking of us two, but you must have some special charm of your own because everyone is drawn to you. A thousand times I have tried to make Monsieur de Flahaut say he disliked you. He never would do so. It seemed when I spoke of you as though I were referring to some sacred being; but I know you and trust you. I saw him a few days ago when he came through Paris. The glimpse of a bracelet I was wearing upset him, for his love for me is as jealous as it is intense. Your name came into my mind and I told him the bracelet was a present from you. Promise me when you see him again not to betray me."
I promised and returned home in a state of mind which is difficult to describe. Had the man who had sworn he was sincere been deceiving me? I had just learned that another woman had been the object of his attentions at the very time he had declared I, and I alone, occupied his thoughts.
True I had asked only for his friendship; but did that not include complete frankness? Made more wretched than I can describe by this cruel uncertainty, I did not know which way to turn. The consolation I had counted on was once again failing me.
More alone than ever, indifferent to everything that went on about me, obliged to keep all my troubles to myself, I grew more ill and my illness threatened to prove serious.
The original French is available below:
