Curious Chapbooks & Hysterical Histories

THE  BORDENS of FALL RIVER

The Borden family of Fall River, Massachusetts, were prominent citizens -- not only because of Old Andrew Borden's wealth, but also because of their old New England name. Lizzie was ninth-generation on her father's side to live in Fall River, and she took her rightful place in Fall River society despite her father's miserly habits.

Old Andrew grew up poor and made his own wealth in his own way. According to one Fall River legend, "When he was an undertaker, he cut the feet off the corpses so that he could cram them into undersized coffins that he got cheap (Lincoln, 35)." Even after enjoying prosperity as a banker and slumlord, Andrew Borden did not mind selling eggs from his farm on Main Street. Perhaps this humble entrepreneurialism embarrassed Lizzie on her errands of mercy for the Christian Endeavor Society, the Fruit and Flower Mission and the Hospital of the Good Samaritan -- but it hardly seems a motive for murder. Andrew Borden himself was not much of a churchgoer or a socialite; his community activities were reserved for the many boards of directors to which he belonged. These positions of prestige and power included being president of Union Savings Bank, director of First National Bank, director of Durfee Safe Deposit & Trust Company, director of Globe Yarn Mill Company, director of Troy Cotton & Woolen Manufacturing Company and director of Merchants Manufacturing Company.

In spite of Andrew Borden's business drive and Lizzie Borden's social ambition, the Bordens lived quite modestly in a narrow little house on Second Street, a busy thoroughfare in the south part of town, heavily traveled in sight and sound of factories and ironworks and only a few hundred yards from City Hall (Sullivan, 10). Despite the crowded neighborhood and proximity to the police station, none of the neighbors saw anything helpful the morning of the murders and the police that day were all off on a clambake at Rocky Point, Rhode Island (Sullivan, 31).

Thursday, August 4, 1892 began inauspiciously enough with leftovers for breakfast. At the wealthy Borden table on that hot summer morning, breakfast was a meal of johnny cakes, bread, coffee, cookies, week-old mutton and mutton soup. There was later to be some controversy over bananas: a visiting uncle, John Morse, recalled them at the table (Radin, 58); the maid, Bridget, disagreed, saying to the best of her belief, no bananas were served (Pearson, 197).

The question of the morning meal proved to be an important one, for no less than two members of the Borden household had claimed only the day before that they were being poisoned. Mrs. Borden had gone to Dr. Bowen across the street with stories of an anonymous note claiming they were being poisoned (Lincoln, 62); later that evening, Lizzie told her friend Alice Russell, "Sometimes I think our milk might be poisoned (Sullivan, 98)."

The entire household had been sick for several days, some claim due to eating "warmed-over fish" before assaying the mutton (Lincoln, 61). The entire household at this time included Mr. and Mrs. Borden; Lizzie; and the maid, Bridget. Lizzie's older sister, Emma, was away visiting friends in Fairhaven. The unexpected guest, Uncle John Morse, who arrived without luggage the night before the murders, presumably knew enough to stick to bananas.

That fateful morning the elder Bordens had recovered enough to come downstairs and attempt the joint of mutton once more. Lizzie stayed upstairs, as was her habit, until the others had finished, so she could slip down unobserved and forage for herself. Andrew Borden was the first out the door to make business calls, followed shortly after by Uncle John gone a-visiting a distant niece who lived in town. Abby Borden, an overweight recluse, never left the house for business or social calls, but instead went to hide upstairs in the guest room, turkey duster in hand. Before she left the kitchen, Abby gave the curious order to Bridget to wash the windows. Washing windows in a heat wave must have been trying for the nauseated maid. Furthermore, the lowered windows must have made the air close inside the shut-up house for Abby and Lizzie, two women who hated and feared each other.

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