Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 2 — Inside the Classic

The March as a Stage for Conflict

The journey from Cairnvreckan toward Stirling is not merely a passage of miles but a series of verbal and physical confrontations. Gilfillan’s harangue—calling the Presbyterian minister a 'dumb dog' and denouncing 'copes and vestments'—reveals the deep sectarian rifts within the Lowland population. Scott uses the march to expose the ideological fault lines that the Jacobite rising will exploit. The pace is deliberate: Gilfillan 'put forth his strength' to reach Stirling by night, yet he cannot resist slowing down to debate. This tension between forward motion and digression mirrors the novel’s own structure, where the plot advances through detours and disputes.

Pistols, Black-Cocks, and Lurking Figures

A recurring motif in this volume is the sudden appearance of a weapon or a threat from concealment. Alick Polwarth warns Waverley that the Mac-Ivors might 'mak a black-cock o' ye'—a phrase that conflates a game bird with a corpse. The warning is immediately followed by a pistol shot from Callum Beg, who 'whisked away through amang the reises.' The image of the lurking figure, the smoke-blackened muzzle, and the boy’s unblinking denial all reinforce a world where violence is both impulsive and ritualized. Fergus’s response—striking Callum with the pistol butt—shows that even discipline is enacted through brutality.

Shifting Loyalties and the Threat of Treachery

Waverley’s position grows precarious as he moves between factions. The Baron of Bradwardine commands his regiment half a mile ahead, while Fergus’s Highlanders march separately. The physical separation of the forces mirrors the political fragmentation of the Jacobite cause. When Callum fires, Waverley must decide whether to confront Fergus directly or seek protection from the Baron. Scott emphasizes the precariousness of personal honor: Fergus treats the shot as a 'pleasure' he had reserved for himself, turning a near-assassination into a matter of precedence. The scene suggests that in this world, loyalty is conditional and revenge is a sport.

The Landscape as a Space of Ambush

Scott’s descriptions of the terrain—the 'long avenue,' the 'reises' (brushwood), the 'common'—are not mere backdrop. They function as tactical spaces where concealment and surprise are possible. Callum Beg uses the cover of the reises to escape after firing; the avenue becomes a corridor of danger. The novel’s movement between open ground and enclosed paths creates a rhythm of exposure and hiding. Waverley, riding back to the squadron, is caught in this spatial logic: he must traverse the very avenue where the shot came. The landscape itself seems complicit in the threat, a reminder that in a civil war, no ground is neutral.

Readers attentive to Scott’s use of setting will find that the landscape is never merely scenic. The march, the avenue, the common—each is a stage for confrontation. The recurring image of the pistol, whether fired or brandished, ties together the themes of honor, revenge, and discipline. As the volume progresses, watch how these spatial and material details accumulate, shaping not only where the characters go but how they act and what they risk.