Alright, let’s talk about this fella, Louis-Nicolas Davout. They called him somethin’ fancy, somethin’ like Prince of Eckmhl and Duke of Auerstaedt. Sounded real highfalutin, but to me, he was just a soldier, a tough one at that.
This Davout, he fought for France, fought in all them wars, the Revolutionary ones and the ones with that Napoleon fella. Folks said he was good at it, real good. A born fighter, they said. Knew how to whip them soldiers into shape, that’s for sure. He was hard on ’em, a real stickler for rules, but I reckon that’s what made ’em good fighters.
Now, some folks say he was the best of the bunch, the best of Napoleon’s marshals. That’s sayin’ somethin’, cause Napoleon had a whole heap of ’em. But Davout, he was different. He stuck with Napoleon till the bitter end, even when things went sour. Not like some of them others, who jumped ship when the goin’ got tough.
- He fought hard, that’s for sure.
- Never gave up, no matter what.
- And he always had France’s back, even when Napoleon didn’t.
They called him the Iron Marshal, on account of him bein’ so tough. And I reckon that name fit him just right. He wasn’t one for soft words or easy ways. He demanded the best from his men, and he gave it right back to ‘em. You knew where you stood with Davout, and that ain’t a bad thing, let me tell you.
There’s this story about him defendin’ Hamburg, a big city, I guess. The enemy, they surrounded it, tried to starve him out. But Davout, he held on, wouldn’t give an inch. He held on till Napoleon gave up, abdicated, they called it. Only then did Davout surrender. That tells you somethin’ about the man, don’t it? He wasn’t one to quit, not even when things looked hopeless.
Now, Napoleon, he said somethin’ funny about Davout after that Waterloo mess. Said he thought Davout loved him, but turns out Davout just loved France. Well, I reckon that ain’t so bad. A man’s gotta love his country, ain’t that right? And Davout, he sure loved his. He even tried to take the blame for some of his generals after Napoleon lost, tried to keep ’em from gettin’ punished. That shows you what kinda man he was, loyal to the bone.
After all that fightin’ and carryin’ on, they took away his fancy titles, those Prince and Duke things. Sent him off to some place called Louviers, made him live there. I reckon they wanted to keep him quiet, keep him outta trouble. But Davout, he’d already done his part. He’d fought for France, and he’d done it well.
He wasn’t like them other fancy marshals, the young ones like that Marmont fella, born in 1774, became a marshal when he was just a young’un. Or that old Kellerman, born way back in 1735. Most of ’em got their fancy titles in 1804, but Grouchy, he got his real late, in 1815. But Davout, he was somethin’ special. He wasn’t just a marshal, he was the Iron Marshal, and that’s a name worth rememberin’.
So yeah, that’s the story of Louis-Nicolas Davout, as best as I can tell it. A tough soldier, loyal to France, and a man who knew how to fight. He wasn’t perfect, mind you, nobody is. But he was somethin’ else, that’s for sure.
Davout’s Achievements were many, battles won, titles earned. He was a force to be reckoned with, and nobody could deny that. He may have been stern, but his men respected him, and his enemies feared him. And that, I reckon, is the mark of a true soldier.
Tags:Louis-Nicolas Davout, French military, Napoleonic Wars, Iron Marshal, Marshal of the Empire, French Revolutionary Wars, Hamburg siege, Napoleon’s marshals, Duke of Auerstaedt, Prince of Eckmhl
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