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With our young soldiers marching off to war all around us and
returning home with not only visible injuries, but the many you can’t see, I
began to consider Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, as it was viewed in
the past. And it became a pivotal plot point in my upcoming book BLOOD LANCE,
my medieval mystery with protagonist Crispin Guest, a disgraced knight turned
detective in fourteenth century London. A knight from Crispin’s chivalric past,
Sir Thomas Saunfayl, pulls Crispin into his difficulties that are quickly spiraling
out of control. Sir Thomas is accused of desertion and must fight for his life
in a judicial joust. Desperate to ensure his victory, he has paid a fortune to lay
his hands on the Spear of Longinus, a religious relic he believes will give him
invincibility on the lists, and he hires Crispin to find it.
The idea of knights possibly suffering from PTSD fascinated
me. I wondered if throughout history, in the days before modern artillery, combatants
suffered from it. After all, it is a malady that manifests once a soldier
returns home to “normal” life, and many soldiers and knights were away from
home for years and years. Even though there is little in the way of discussion
about it in old documents because of the cultural and sociological differences
between then and now, I didn’t suppose it was a modern phenomenon, though we
have given it fancy modern names.
In World War I, they talked of being “shell shocked” from
the nature of the new style of warfare where soldiers huddled in trenches while
being barraged by exploding shells. By World War II it was called “battle fatigue.”
General Patton famously slapped a soldier suffering from this. “Battlefield
stress” is yet another term.
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| Battle of Courtrai |
But in the Middle Ages it could only be recognized as a
failure on the part of the soldier and labeled as cowardice. Interestingly
enough, some parchment was given to the problem of cowardice. The idea--then as
now--was to train the soldier so thoroughly that the “flight” part of the
natural “fight or flight” response would be eliminated. Drill, discipline, and
group bonding went a long way toward shaping the mind (though the medieval foot
soldier wasn’t drilled in the sense of practicing formations, not like their
ancient ancestors in Greece or Rome. It was an impracticality. They had to rely
on the discipline of the knights, those in the front lines, to form strategies
for the foot soldiers to follow. However, infantry was able to save the day
over the mounted knight many a time, including in the battle of Courtrai in
1302 and Bannockburn in 1314).
Instilling a greater fear in one’s commander than in the
enemy also proved optimal. In ancient China, for example, generals would
maneuver their armies in such a way as to make retreat impossible thus forcing
the advance as the only option. Religious fervor, too, offered a standard under
which one could fight while also offering ultimate rewards if death should
strike.
There was a reason for rallying the troops before a battle
with a stirring speech. From ancient Greece and probably before, generals and
kings gave battle orations meant to bond, to encourage, and to remind the men
of their reasons for fighting and for their ultimate rewards if they succeeded.
Think of the St. Crispin's Day speech in Shakespeare’s Henry V. I don’t know about you, but it makes me want to take up arms!
Combined, this is what made up the “band of brothers,” where
even the general or, in some instances, the castellan of a fortress, feels
close to his men in a way that defies the social classes.
Still, even with all this training and discipline, with the subsequent shame in society associated with cowardice, there were certainly soldiers and knights who succumbed to the rigors of war. A knight on a horse could flee a lot easier than a man on the ground, and there were instances where generals insisted the knights dismount in order to make fleeing more difficult. Early flight of the knights lost many a battle, including King Stephen’s battle at Lincoln and Robert Curthose’s battle at Tinchebrai. Are these instances of cowardice as we might understand it, or of a man cutting his losses and getting the heck out of there?
Battle stress manifests itself in running away in the face
of battle, sleeplessness, irritability, irrational anger, mood swings, and
thoughts of suicide. Sir Thomas in this piece suffers from these symptoms and can’t
understand why. All his training and discipline failed him in the face of the
constant barrage of the battle royale. What’s a knight to do? As he said, they
can’t all be Crispin Guests.
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My new medieval mystery BLOOD LANCE will be released Oct 16
in hardcover, e-book, and audiobook. See a series book trailer and discussion
guides for all my books at www.JeriWesterson.com
