Books in brief: Scotland’s Castle Culture | Wellington’s Wars | Midwifery in Scotland

MICHAEL Kerrigan casts his eye over the latest literary releases.

Scotland’s Castle Culture

edited by Audrey Dakin, Miles Glendinning and Aonghus Mackechnie

(John Donald, £25) 
Rating: ****

Why have the Scots historically been castle-mad? What function did these fortresses serve in medieval and early-modern times? Barely had the need for the defensible home receded than the castle came back as kitsch – not to mention castellated mansions, schools and even farm buildings. What did such structures mean to Scots – and what did they say about Scotland to the wider world? Did they stand as evidence of barbarism and backwardness? Or are they monuments to Scottish sophistication and enlightenment?

Wellington’s Wars

By Huw J Davies

(Yale, £25) 
Rating: ****

“If the military solution contradicts political imperatives, find a different military 
solution …” This was the crucial insight Arthur Wellesley gained from his Indian campaigning in the Maratha Wars, says Huw Davies. The Iron Duke didn’t have the flair of Napoleon; nor the organisational skills he’s sometimes credited with – or the caution he has frequently been faulted for. Indeed, his recklessness and refusal to learn from his mistakes would have fitted a far less distinguished general. What he did have, Davies suggests in this highly original, audaciously irreverent and yet admirably scrupulous study, was an instinctive understanding of Clausewitz’s adage that war is “the continuation of politics by other means”. In an age of complex alliances and mixed diplomatic motives, Wellington was the right man for the job.

Midwifery in Scotland

By Lindsay Reid

(SHP, £25)

Rating: ****

“Mark me gentlemen,” said Sir John Halliday Croom, spelling out the realities of modern midwifery to his students: “Orange paste for your nails, a clean shirt every day, a flower in your buttonhole, and your fortune’s made.” How were Scotland’s untrained, uncertified “howdies” to compete against the placebo-power of the frock coat and university diploma? Lindsay Reid has no illusions about the inadequacies of pre-modern medicine, and applauds early attempts to put Scottish midwifery on a professional footing. Yet she also makes it clear, in a history which is as poignant as it is fascinating, that official acknowledgement came at the cost of autonomy – and, to some extent, respect.

That the insights of some pimply youth just out of medical school should automatically have trumped the instincts and experiences of a veteran midwife must have been galling.