New Lizzie Finds!

by Sherry Chapman

First published in December/January, 2005, Volume 2, Issue 6, The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.

Sometimes I go to Fall River to look for a specific item related to Lizzie Borden. Sometimes I just happen to be in the right place at the right time, or I dig a little deeper than others. Sometimes I have a hunch and I play it. But this time, things I did not expect were practically handed to me. Totally out of the blue, I leaned up against a slot machine and hit the jackpot.

Having a chronic case of Borden-itis as most of us do, catching it from one another, you know how it is. For those who live far from Massachusetts, visits to Fall River can be rare, and when we do have a chance to go there is no stopping us. (If you are saying that’s not you then you probably have a less mild form of it than me.) The excitement starts just in knowing you are going to Fall River. The trip out is upbeat and hopeful. No bored faces in my car. (Well, my husband is an engineer. I don’t think he has two expressions.) The closer to the destination, the faster you want to go, even if it’s just to reach your hotel and check in for the night.

Taking a tour of the house on Second Street, though you’ve done it a few times before, is still exciting because each time you go you discover new things. You can’t go to the house without driving by Maplecroft, even if you can’t get in. And the obligatory short drive to the cemetery where all the Bordens lay seems almost disrespectful to skip. Researching at the Fall River Historical Society is fun and an adventure. Researching at the public library is tedious and an adventure. I guess it turns out that way because you have some great people to talk to at the Historical Society, and you have to be quiet in the library, which is not the thing I do best.

Sometimes, if you’re really lucky and really, really patient you catch a glint of a gem that’s not quite within your grasp. Yet. The adventure leading to this article started from calling a number on a business card. Actually, it started when Lizzie Borden was acquitted in the summer of 1893 for the double axe murders of her father and stepmother.

After her acquittal, Lizzie was probably frazzled and worn. It is also probable that she would find no rest in Fall River after her rise to notoriety. Friends graciously offered her a place to stay in Newport, Rhode Island. The house at 43 Farewell Street was owned by the William King Covell family. It was there that Lizzie stayed for at least a week, relaxing and riding. The house was featured in a previous article in The Hatchet (Aug/Sept, 2004, Vol 1, Issue 4) entitled “Lizzie in Newport” by this writer. Built in 1810, the house is in a charming old Victorian neighborhood. It now serves as a Bed & Breakfast. Having been given a tour of the rooms, it looks both beautiful and comfortable.

In 1895 the Covell family moved to a mansion on the water at 72 Washington Street in Newport, not far from the Farewell Street house. Today that house is also a Bed & Breakfast.

My interest in Lizzie Borden’s association with the Covell family stems from the well-known photograph of Lizzie standing behind a chair on the porch of the Farewell Street house. Her appearance shows a weight gain from lack of exercise due to her incarceration in Taunton as she awaited trial. It was this photo that mesmerized me as a child and pulled me into the world of Lizzie Borden. (Admittedly, the title of the book it was in – something about Lizzie Borden, axe murders, and blood – helped a little then too.) 

I was visiting Fall River in the spring of 2004 and drove to Newport to photograph the exteriors of both houses. Someone at the Washington Street house gave me a business card and apologized that the owner was not home, or I could have seen the inside. I did not expect that – just taking a few pictures outdoors if that’s all right, thanks, and I’ll be on my way. 

That night in my hotel room, I looked at that business card and my heart began to beat just enough to tell me, Oh, go on. You know you want to! Ah, what would I say? Hey, I like you, kid. You’ll think of something. Mmmmm . . . It’s late. It’s too late to call. What’s the worst that can happen? It’s now or never. That was certainly true. I went to the phone and placed the call, in part to get my heartbeat to pipe down. It was almost 10 PM. A pleasant voice answered. I felt at ease as I asked if she were the owner. I told her that I was the person who was taking outside photos of her house that day. She knew about it, and we started to chat. I was talking to Anne Ramsey Cuvelier, a direct descendant of the William King Covell family, who were very dear friends of Lizzie Borden. 

I immediately picked up the hotel pen and the maid’s tip envelope and started taking notes. Ms. Cuvelier said that her mother, who is in her 90’s, is probably still up and she could three-way us. Before I knew it, her mother was on the phone, her mind clearer than my own. Her father (James Ramsey) had actually walked past 92 Second Street on the morning of the murders, and she remembered him saying, “It was very hot.” Her family did not speak of Lizzie often, though the Covell side were staunch supporters of her and emphatically believed in her innocence. Though Anne asked if I could come to see her the next day, I had an appointment in Marion and the day after that I was leaving. 

I did not forget about her (how could I?). When I next went to Fall River that October, I made seeing her a priority. I knew this was going to be good, but I had no idea “great” would be a better way to describe it.

Anne was lovely, gracious, patient and fun as we talked about all things Lizzie. She had mentioned previously that Lizzie had given the family a ‘bread and butter gift’ of six dessert forks. Over the years, visitors to the inn have absconded with four of them. “They didn’t know they were gifts from Lizzie Borden,” she said. I was glad to know that the persons who had stolen the forks as a souvenir of the house had no idea whatsoever of the treasure they really possessed. 

She showed me a photo of the original six forks. Someone had typed up a description of the picture which read: “These six sterling silver pie forks were a gift from Miss Lizzie Borden to Mr. and Mrs. William K. Covell after her visit to their home in Newport. The time was during the 1890’s after Lizzie’s trial; the exact date is uncertain. Mrs. Covell was the former Sarah Remington of Fall River. Both she and her husband believed in Lizzie’s innocence.”

Then Anne brought out the two forks that were left. To know that these came from Lizzie Borden was almost overwhelming. She had chosen them as gifts for the Covells. She actually picked them out herself. I noticed the little cross cutout in the middle of the tines. Was this what she selected because she was religious? Did she have them custom made? I could envision her arriving at the house with box in hand, smiling, as she loved to give presents. “These are for you,” she may have said. Or it could have been a deliveryman from a store, hurriedly dropping them off with a “Heah!” I ogled and did not have the nerve to touch them.

The Covell family privately printed a book on their family history entitled The Two Williams. Anne showed me photos she thought would be of interest. An old photo of the Farewell Street house was in the book. The caption tells us that it is the “old” house as it appeared from 1840 to c. 1885. If you compare it with a modern day photo of the house, this seems to be the front of the house. The veranda and a third story must have been added on later.

Since I had seen the inside of the Farewell Street house, it was interesting to see a photo taken in the living room there about 1918 of Sarah Walton (Remington) Covell, the wife of William King Covell II. Sarah lived from 1837-1919. She was Anne’s mother’s grandmother, or Anne’s great-grandmother. 

It was intriguing later on to see the chair that was in the far right of this photo in the ‘wood’ (chairs don’t have flesh . . .).

Anne said they brought all the furniture from the Farewell House to the waterfront home when the family moved. Even . . . nah. Well, what about . . . It’d be too silly to ask, really . . . I mean, what are the chances of . . .  “What about the chair Lizzie stood behind on the porch?”

“I have that,” she said. If I would have spoken just then I don’t think anything would have come out except the Ralph Kramden “Homina, homina, homina.” Or my nose would catch fire, like in Lucy Meets William Holden. No, that was when I first met Michael Martins.

She found a large glossy photo of a gentleman in a rocking chair on the porch of the Farewell Street house, and there was no mistaking it. “The Chair,” or its sibling, was on his left. Is this what Dr. Ballard’s team felt like when they got their first glimpse of the Titanic? No. I didn’t swear. Hard telling what my face looked like, though. The man in the photo is William King Covell I, Anne’s great, great grandfather.

Anne had the complete set of chairs that match the one that Lizzie stood behind. Unfortunately we have no way of knowing which chair it was. Lizzie was too much of a lady to have carved that information on the “one.” The chair that has a bed warmer by it could be exempt, as it has very little wear on its back, which could indicate it was kept largely indoors, or it could have been redone. I doubt that, though, since the others are in their original form.

It was hard to leave when our talk was over. The house was magnificent. It was like going back in time visiting genteel Victorian friends. One of these days, I’d like to stay there for a night or two. Or three . . . 

You can visit Ms. Cuvelier’s Bed & Breakfast on the web at: http://www.sanford-covell.com.

Works Cited:

Covell, Elizabeth Greene. The Two Williams, William King Covell, 1802-1890, William King Covell, 1833-1919: A Story of Nineteenth Century Newport, Rhode Island, and Wilmington, North Carolina. Cambridge, MA: University Press, 1954. 

Personal interviews with Anne Ramsey Cuvelier in April, 2004 and October, 2004.