Armadale - Week 1: Book the First, Ch. I - Book the Second, Ch. 1 > Likes and Comments

If you have read with me before, you know how long-winded I can be! This is actually the condensed version--it is so plot heavy! Please don't judge me! LOL

Book the First (or Prologue)
Ch. I - “The Travellers”

We open in 1832 in the small German town of Wildbad with the arrival of a bad-tempered Scotsman, Mr. Neal, and a high-born Englishman, Mr. Armadale, who has been struck “with the death-in-life of Paralysis. The doctor’s eye questioned his lower limbs, and Death-in-life answered, I am here. The doctor’s eye, rising attentively by way of his hands and arms, questioned upward and upward to the muscles round his mouth, and Death-in-life answered, I am coming” (13). They are both there to take the waters for their health..

Ch. II - “The Solid Side of Scotch Character”

The next morning, the doctor arrives late for his scheduled appointment with Mr. Neal. We learn that the doctor only gives Mr. Armadale a week to live. He asks Mr. Neal to allow the doomed man to dictate to him, the only other English-speaking resident in the town, the end of a letter he began before his illness incapacitated him. Mr. Neal, uncomfortable with this request, tries his best to come up with another solution, but in the end, acquiesces.

Ch. III - “The Wreck of the Timber Ship”

Mr. Neal and the doctor arrive at the Mr. Armadale’s room, where they are met by Mrs. Armadale. Mr. Neal is floored by her beauty and becomes more compliant with the task he has agreed to. He begins to read the letter aloud.

From the letter, we learn that Mr. Armadale (born Allan Wrentmore) was born in Barbados and raised by an indulgent widowed mother. He was named Allan after his godfather, a wealthy man. At twenty-one, he learns that Armadale has disinherited his lawless and disgraced son and made Allan the heir to his sizable West Indian estate, but only if Allan changes his last name to Armadale. He does so, and a week after it becomes legal, Mr. Allan Armadale (the godfather) dies and Allan Armadale (formerly Wrentmore) is now the wealthiest man in Barbados.

The new landowner hires a clerk, Fergus Ingleby, who seems shady, but Allan likes him. Allan’s mother also dislikes him and arranges a trip to England in hopes of matching her son up with the daughter of her old boyfriend. Allan sees a picture of the daughter, is smitten, and agrees to go. However, the father and daughter are currently in Madeira for his health. Allan tells Fergus of his plans, and his friend is very supportive.

On the eve of departure, Allan becomes dangerously ill with what turns out to be the result of poison. While he lies ill, Fergus is accused of misconduct and disappears. Recovered, Allan takes the journey to meet the woman he has lost his heart to only to find that she is already married–to Allan Armadale! It turns out that Fergus was the scoundrel son of Allan’s godfather. He seizes on the opportunity to take the woman of the man who “stole” his inheritance. (If you’re keeping track, we’re up to three Allan Armadales now)!

So “evil” Allan Armadale takes “nice” Allan Armadales’s place on the ship for Madeira and ingratiates himself with Mr. Blanchard and his daughter. Only when a letter is about to be mailed to Mrs. Wrentmore, inviting her to her “son’s” wedding does he confess to his fiancee and persuade her to keep his secret. She does, but enlists her young maid to help forge Mrs. Wrentmore’s handwriting. The marriage takes place with her father none the wiser. “Nice” Allan Armadale’s arrival leads to their confession. “Nice” Allan challenges evil Allan to a duel, but evil Allan flees on a ship to Lisbon with his new bride.

Nice Allan gets hired as a crewman on Mr. Blanchard’s yacht as he sets off in pursuit of his daughter. The yacht weathers a terrible storm but the larger ship founders. The yacht crew helps save the seamen on board the ship, including the new Mrs. Armadale. Evil Allan is ultimately found dead on the ship.

At this point, Mr. Armadale requests Mr. Neal to stop reading the letter aloud. He asks his wife to leave, which she does. The letter continues with Mr. Armadale’s confession of murder of evil Allan. He locked the newly-married man into the cabin and left him to drown. This shocks both the doctor and Mr. Neal, and also Mrs. Armadale, who was listening at the keyhole (a habit of hers). They hear her fall in a swoon and the doctor leaves to attend her. Mr. Neal agrees to continue reading but only if the doctor stays as a witness.

Mr. Neal continues: Mr. Armadale gives more details of the crime. Afterwards, he is able to leave the island with no trouble. The widow realizes who killed her husband and why, but due to a false report that nice Allan had died, no legal action is taken. Allan sails to Trinidad, where he meets his current wife. They marry, and his goal is to make sure she never knows what he has done (oops!). They have a son who is named–can you guess? The new baby is Allan Armadale! Because can you ever have too many? Daddy Allan is having health problems, and the family travels around Europe in search of a cure, but in vain. In Lausanne, Allan receives a letter from a friend who tells him that the widowed Mrs. Armadale has an infant son named–that’s right, Allan Armadale! Daddy Allan fears that the family of the man he killed will somehow visit retribution on his child. This is where the letter ends.

The doctor administers a sedative to the dying man so that he will have the strength to continue. Mr. Armadale dictates a warning to his son to avoid anyone attached to the family of his victim. Avoid the widow Armadale, the maid who wrote the forged letter, and especially, the other Allan Armadale. This, he believes, is the only way to avoid catastrophe. The letter ends with a plea for forgiveness. Mr. Neal prepares it for mailing with cold professionalism, and Mr. Armadale dies with his young son on his lap.

Book the Second

Ch. I - “The Mystery of Ozias Midwinter”

It is now 1851. We meet the Reverend Decimus Brock as he struggles with a problem. As he ponders his decision, he takes us on a reflective trip through the last fourteen years of his life. It begins with his initial meeting with Mrs. Armadale, the widow of evil Allan. He agrees to tutor her eight-year-old son and does so for eight years. Young Allan struggles with academics (it sounds like he has ADD) and impulse-control, but he is also generous, affectionate, and sweet-tempered. He loves the sea and begins to learn boat-building.

Mr. Brock, early in their relationship, had made advances to Mrs. Armadale but had been firmly friend-zoned. During tea with her one evening, he is startled to see an ad in the newspaper asking for a 15-year-old Allan Armadale to contact a law firm. Mrs. Armadale informs him reluctantly that there are two Allan Armadales and begs him not to talk about it further or show it to her son. He is curious but agrees.

Five years later, Allan is now twenty-one. He is still heedless and impulsive and focused on boat-building. Mrs. Armadale’s health is failing and she is increasingly worried about Allan’s future. Their routines are disturbed when a young man is discovered wandering, disordered and disheveled, in a field. He is taken to the inn and Mr. Brock is summoned. The doctor declares it a case of brain fever. Going through his belongings, they discover that his name is . . . (drum roll) NOT Allan Armadale! It is actually Ozias Midwinter, which is a refreshing change, right? Mr. Brock considers it strangely uncouth, but if it was Allan Armadale, we would have to start assigning these guys numbers!

Allan generously offers to cover the stranger’s inn bill and takes a fancy to him, promoting him to the position of best friend. Mrs. Armadale is very disturbed about this and demands that Mr. Brock immediately background-check him. Mr. Brock finds Mr. Midwinter an unsettling figure–he claims to be twenty but looks and acts like an older man, and his eyes look shifty. He has no family or friends, a checkered, unimpressive employment history, and a world-weary attitude. He does, however, pay his own bills, and he is fervently grateful to Allan.

Mrs. Armadale’s worries are not laid to rest by this information and so Mr. Brock tries again. Mr. Midwinter immediately sees through Mr. Brock’s attempt at probing his past, and the younger man leaves the following morning. Allan does not take it well and vows to Mr. Brock that either Midwinter will be welcomed back, or he will go to London with him. Unfortunately, Mrs. Armadale dies before the deadline for this ultimatum is reached. Her death appears to be precipitated by a visit from the now-adult young maid who wrote the forged letter to assist in Mrs. Armadale’s marriage. Mrs. Armadale wishes to move away, even to a foreign land, to evade this woman, but her health fails too rapidly and she dies a month later. In an attempt to cheer Allan up, Mr. Brock takes Allan on a trip to Paris. They stop in London on the way, and Allan attempts to visit his friend, Mr. Midwinter, but he is curiously absent from his normal routine. Mr. Brock sees another ad for the mysterious second Allan Armadale, this time with a reward attached. With no word from Mr. Midwinter, they depart for Paris.

Once in Paris, Allan is contacted by Midwinter and invites him to join them. Before he receives a response, he learns that all his maternal male relatives have suddenly mysteriously died and he is now the heir to his family’s estate of Thorpe-Ambrose, and a wealthy man. The two men immediately return to London. There they learn that Allan’s cousin Henry, the current master of the estate, had jumped into the river to save a suicidal woman. He becomes ill and dies within two weeks, while the suicidal woman, saved but unidentified, vanishes. Allan’s remaining uncle and cousin, traveling in Milan, are rushing back when they are killed in an avalanche in the Alps. (The narrator pins all of this on the suicidal woman).


Allan goes cruising in his yacht with Mr. Brock and Mr. Midwinter for two months before taking possession of his estate. Mr. Brock learns that Midwinter has been left a letter in trust for him at a law firm. Hmmm! He also tells Brock that he has done what he can to avoid friendship with Allan, but from now on, the friendship will only end if Allan wills it. “The dog’s master has whistled . . . and it’s hard, sir, to blame the dog, when the dog comes” (82).

They stop at the Isle of Man to repair damages resulting from a storm. Mr. Brock receives a letter requiring his return to his church and it is this decision he is wrestling with at the beginning of the book. He doesn’t feel easy leaving Allan alone with the still-mysterious Midwinter. It is too early for Allan to take possession of his estate, so I’m not sure what, exactly, the reverend’s choices are. Is he going to blow off his church duties, or try to order Allan home with him? Anyway, his ruminations are interrupted by Midwinter, who walks in and expresses a desire to “make a clean breast of it.” He hands Brock the letter that Mr. Neal posted from Wildbad all those years ago.

So thoughts, questions, predictions? I think we could have used a few more Allans, don't you? Are you having trouble keeping them straight? The scene is clearly set for a discussion on fate and free will. As the moribund Armadale says:

“I look into the Book which all Christendom venerates, and the Book tells me that the sin of the father shall be visited on the child” (47)
and:
“My son! the only hope I have left for you hangs on a great doubt—the doubt whether we are, or are not, the masters of our own destinies. It may be that mortal free-will can conquer mortal fate” (48).

Cindy, excellent summary. I agree with you on the importance of fate and free will, even at this early stage in the narrative. That was what struck me the most, actually, especially as we can already see the hand of fate at work in Allan Armadale the younger's surprise inheritance.

It is also evident that Midwinter, receiving his father's letter, has also begun to contemplate what the role of fate will be in his life. He seems capable of serious thought and understands the gravity of the choice that stands before him. I think that this novel's engagement with the fate vs. free will debate is also interesting in light of how often in appears in Wilkins' other novels: No Name and The Two Destinies come to mind, but even in his better known novels there is an undercurrent of interest in just how much self-determination we really have. I would be curious to read further and see if Collins takes one particular side of this debate consistently or if his views shift as time passes.

Another, entirely different aspect of these early chapters struck me. Has anyone here read Jean Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea? It's a canonical, Caribbean-authored prequel that imagines the life of Bertha, Rochester's Jamaican Creole wife in Jane Eyre. (It's an excellent Victorian-adjacent novel, for anyone interested. I highly recommend it.) I think that a similar novel could be written about Armadale's West Indian wife. Reading Victorian literature (and other novels published during the broader colonial era) I am always struck by the way that West Indian (and indeed other colonial) characters hover round the margins of a story, impacting the narrative and broader thematic structure in spite of their lack of centrality. I know that many a dissertation has been written on this topic, especially during the last few decades or so as post-colonial studies have gained traction and importance within the academy. Reading these first few chapters has me wanting to do a deep dive into the scholarly literature to see what has been written on the topic about Armadale.

I'm finding this novel gripping! I adore Collins and have read a handful of his titles, but this one, so far at least, is a standout.

Lauren wrote: "especially as we can already see the hand of fate at work in Allan Armadale the younger's surprise inheritance."

you call it "hand of fate" .... I call it a serious case of Victorian mass murder.

I've heard people complain about e.g. Gaskell's body count in North and South, where characters are killed off left and right to suit the plot - I think 7. Wilkie tops that in these first few chapters with 8 (if I've counted them all - easy to overlook a few). I wonder how many more there are to come.

The novel has not gripped me yet, precisely because of this surfeit of corpses and the contrived setup of the story. My impression is that Wilkie is setting up a chess problem. He starts with the full set of pieces, then quickly takes the major part of them to arrive at the endgame with basically 2 kings and 1 queen (plus a few pawns here and there) - and at this moment I hope he will not draw out the endgame over the very long rest of the book. And that is also the impression I get of the characters: they are more chess pieces than humans, and the author seems more interested in the chess problem than in them. I may be wrong, I hope I am, but what can I do against first impressions?

Lauren wrote: "Reading Victorian literature (and other novels published during the broader colonial era) I am always struck by the way that West Indian (and indeed other colonial) characters hover round the margins of a story, impacting the narrative and broader thematic structure in spite of their lack of centrality...."

Thank you, Lauren! I have never thought of that before, but it would be interesting to see if Collins takes a side in the Fate/Free Will debate.

I have read The Wide Sargasso Sea, but it has been so many years that I have forgotten quite a bit of it. I was struck in this book when Mrs. Armadale interrupts the narrative to ask her husband, "Was she a fair woman? . . . or dark, like me?" Her demeanor upon his answer tells us everything we need to know about the sense of inferiority she feels toward this unknown woman. From the description given of her, she sounds much more beautiful than Miss Blanchard. There is no mention in the letter of Armadale's continued love for Miss Blanchard. Once he gets his revenge on evil Allan he leaves and there is no mention of any feelings for her until he warns his son to stay away from her. Could this enduring love be a figment of Mrs. Armadale's insecurity over her race?

sabagrey wrote: "you call it "hand of fate" .... I call it a serious case of Victorian mass murder...."

I agree, to a certain extent. There are quite a few bodies strewn about, it is true, and an alarming number of them have the same name, but to be fair, these first few chapters required an insane amount of setup for the remaining story. It actually covers three generations, so a few deaths are only to be expected. Not to mention that it is almost required for a Victorian hero or heroine to be an orphan!

Killing all the heirs almost simultaneously is rather bloodthirsty, but at least the methods of their deaths do not strain credulity too much (except for Henry's death as a result of getting wet, but they really seemed to believe that could happen then, so I guess we have to let it slide).

Hopefully, Collins' lust for blood has been satisfied, at least for a while, and we can avoid death for a few chapters.

sabagrey wrote: "The novel has not gripped me yet, precisely because of this surfeit of corpses and the contrived setup of the story."

This has been my reaction so far too: that the people are not people, and the setup is extraordinarily long-winded. The early chapters reminded me a bit of the office joke, "this meeting could have been an email," with the endless extras introduced to say a line or two and toddle off, digressions of the Scotch and German national characters (which I found interesting as they are quite the opposite of Scotch and German stereotypes today), unconvincing accounts of dying men who were able to write a 30-page letter, and then the oddness of the story itself.

Still, I know the main interest of this novel is meant to be a female character who hasn't yet appeared, and a good character would be enough to save the novel from all that... so I hold out hope.

Emmeline wrote: "the Scotch and German national characters (which I found interesting as they are quite the opposite of Scotch and German stereotypes today)"

don't forget we are in Wildbad, Baden-Württemberg - these "Germans" are actually Swabians, to whom different stereotypes apply ;-)

sabagrey wrote: "Emmeline wrote: "the Scotch and German national characters (which I found interesting as they are quite the opposite of Scotch and German stereotypes today)"

don't forget we are in Wildbad, Baden-..."

Good point! But still I tend to think of Scottish people nowadays as good-humoured an earthy, rather than dour and moral, though I know that is an older stereotype.

Emmeline wrote: "sabagrey wrote: "Emmeline wrote: "the Scotch and German national characters (which I found interesting as they are quite the opposite of Scotch and German stereotypes today)"

don't forget we are i..."

that said, I trust Collins insofar as characters that he introduces at length, such as Neal, will probably have some role to play later on.

I confess that I’m hooked. Yes, the bodies are falling. Yes, we have an amazing number of Allan Armadales. Yes, there are coincidences that strain reason. But those things are a normal part of the Victorian literature that I love. Also, because my favorite writer is Dickens, I find the prose of Wilkie Collins to be quite succinct. I’m looking forward to a long read of mystery, misdirection, and probably more murders. Who knows, maybe even more Allan Armadales!nAnd despite my enjoyment of the story so far, I appreciate the comments of those who are not so happy because you make me a better, more thoughtful reader.

Nancy wrote: "Also, because my favorite writer is Dickens, I find the prose of Wilkie Collins to be quite succinct. ..."

This is so true, Nancy! This is what I meant when I said it was so hard to condense my post because it is so plot-heavy. I also adore Dickens and enjoy his long passages of description and philosophising, but there is precious little of either to be had here. The backstories he is setting up are so lengthy and convoluted that almost every sentence is a factual detail that contributes directly to the events.

That being said, I do love Collins, as well (maybe a smidge less than Dickens because he is my favorite!), mainly because of Collins' talent in creating fascinating characters. Not that Dickens' characters are not interesting--they just have two completely different approaches, in my opinion. We will see more of the author's talent as the novel progresses, so just hang in there!

I am only a fan of some of Dickens’ long winded descriptions and have just suffered quite a few over indulgent examples in his novel Martin Chuzzlewit.

I enjoy Wilkie Collins’ much more direct style which still contains some excellent descriptive passages, (eg the description of the view across Wildbad which Neal was ‘looking’ out at through the window in the dying Armadale’s room.)

The focus in these first four chapters was definitely on the plot rather than the development of characters.

From my point of view, perhaps that was a good thing, because none of the characters, especially the male ones, appealed to my interest with regards empathy. There was far too much wilful self interest.

Hopefully, now that the convoluted plot has been bedded in, there might be more to this novel than confessions of abuse of power, lust for wealth, deceit and murder.

It seems to me that neither Armadale son deserves any inheritances because of the behaviours of their fathers. However, their initial coming together was positive for both of them showing that they have a capacity to care about people other than themselves.

However, the great stress that has been laid upon their being kept apart is not just ominous, it has forebodings of further dark deeds being perpetrated in the chapters that follow. I hope I am wrong because I would like to see them become great friends, helping each other through life after experiencing different, difficult childhoods. But this is Wilkie Collins, who tends to shy away from comfortable rides.

Trev wrote: "Hopefully, now that the convoluted plot has been bedded in, there might be more to this novel than confessions of abuse of power, lust for wealth, deceit and murder.."

This! Interested to see what the next section holds...

Well, having to Allans is very confusing and as I tend to make notes as I’m reading novels, I had to devise a method to differentiate between the two. Therefore I have named them

Allan le faux (friend of the cleric who paid the bill at the inn)

Allan le vrai (AKA Midwinter)
The two seem inseparable at the moment, but they need to sort out who is the rightful heir and it’s not going to be pleasant. I think that the lady’s maid who knows about the name change is going to return and cause trouble.

Trev wrote: "However, the great stress that has been laid upon their being kept apart is not just ominous, it has forebodings of further dark deeds being perpetrated in the chapters that follow...."

I am reading Martin Chuzzlewit right now, too, Trev, and am enjoying it, description and all! I agree that the former two Allan Armadales were neither very admirable. This next generation of Allans seems much more likable, at least at this point. I would also like to see them bury the hatchet and lay to rest the enmity of their fathers, but as you said, that does not seem likely. Going back to the discussion of fate, there just seems to be this element of inevitability--that no matter how far either of them runs, they will inexorably be drawn together again. Will it be to befriend or war with each other? We shall see!

Emmeline wrote: "However, the great stress that has been laid upon their being kept apart is not just ominous, it has forebodings of further dark deeds being perpetrated in the chapters that follow...."

Hopefully, the pace slows a bit.As I said, this backstory is so dense that these first chapters were basically an infodump! Maybe now that we're up to speed, we can slow down and enjoy the story.

Neil wrote: "I think that the ladies maid who knows about the name change is going to return and cause trouble...."

I thought it was interesting that when the dying Allan Armadale is dictating the letter he leaves for his son, he specifically mentions that maid as someone to be avoided. A very young (12-years-old) housemaid, writing a letter at her mistress's bidding (even if it is illegal), seems not to be much of a threat, but apparently the dying man does not perceive it that way. Was he right about that? Again, we shall see!

Something struck me as I reviewed this section again. The Allan Armadale who is the son of the imposter Allan loves boats and boat-building in much the same way as did the real Allan ( the old man who wrote the letter to his son and then died). He is also impulsive, as was that Allan. Midwinter, who we suspect is the “real” Allan doesn’t show many characteristics of his father.

Nancy wrote: "Something struck me as I reviewed this section again. The Allan Armadale who is the son of the imposter Allan loves boats and boat-building in much the same way as did the real Allan ( the old man ..."

That is interesting, Nancy, especially since both Allans grew up without their fathers. They're actually both "real" Allan Armadales as that is both their legal names. The "imposter" Allan was the imposter only in that he presented himself as the son of Mrs. Wrentmore, not in presenting himself as Allan Armadale. That was actually his legal name.

You probably already know that, but I just wanted to make sure! :)

Thanks, Cindy. I do understand that but lost it in my description because there are so many Allan Armadales!

Nancy wrote: "Thanks, Cindy. I do understand that but lost it in my description because there are so many Allan Armadales!"

I know!! We only have two living but the drama of the two who have passed is still such an important part of the story that we're constantly having to figure out which of the four we are talking about!

I'm going to have a difficult time keeping on the reading schedule with this page-turner! To further the list of coincidences, or perhaps the machinations of fate, did others notice the woman who leapt from the deck of the ship was wearing a red paisley shawl? Perhaps she is the same evil maid who blackmailed the fair Mrs. Armadale and is willing to engage in risky behavior as a means to an end. But what is her endgame, I wonder?

Shannon wrote: "did others notice the woman who leapt from the deck of the ship was wearing a red paisley shawl?.."

Good catch! Midwinter realizes this in the next section (that's not really a spoiler since you already noticed it yourself). Are they related? Does it mean something? Will we ever meet this mystery woman? We shall see! I think we're just getting into the part of the story (in the second section) where we can start connecting with the characters more. Everything was so rushed in the first part to accommodate the infodump. Hope you enjoy the next section, as well!

I've been away for a few weeks so I am very late in starting this read but just wanted to say I'm now joining in! And seeing as I have just read all of the first section in a day, I think I'll catch up quite quickly - and then will have to force myself to slow down! As I've said many times before, Wilkie is one of my very favourite writers and I agree with others who have said that his prose canters along at a great pace - even if this section was indeed an infodump, as Cindy said!

Lorna wrote: "I've been away for a few weeks so I am very late in starting this read but just wanted to say I'm now joining in! And seeing as I have just read all of the first section in a day, I think I'll catc..."

Glad to have you join us, Lorna! I think the pace of the action does make it easier to keep reading. Looking forward to your thoughts on the next sections!

Chiming in late - it took the interlibrary loan 4 weeks to come in, but I'm grateful for their services. (I know online versions are often available, but I'm a physical book guy.)

Definitely intrigued to see Lydia Gwilt get more involved after Collins' comment, "No creature more innately deceitful and more innately pitiless ever walked this earth."

I'm a big Collins fan. In my book he trails only Hardy & Austen for pure enjoyment.

Brian wrote: "Definitely intrigued to see Lydia Gwilt get more involved after Collins' comment, "No creature more innately deceitful and more innately pitiless ever walked this earth."..."

Glad to have you join in, Brian! No worries about timing. Yes, Lydia Gwilt is a fascinating creature, indeed!