Sherry Chapmanby Sherry Chapman
First published in October/November, 2005, Volume 2, Issue 5, The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.
Fall River – The bodies of Andrew and Abby Borden were found butchered by a person or persons unknown in their Second Street home at about 11 am on Thursday, August 4th . . . . . . 2005?
To the delight of many visitors, on August 4th, 2005, a re-enactment of the murders was performed at the original home, which is now a Bed & Breakfast and museum under the ownership of Lee-ann Wilber and Donald Woods. If I wasn’t the most excited person there, I had to be tied for first. I had never been to Fall River on the anniversary of the murders. I had read, with admitted petty envy, of each year’s re-enactment, but for whatever reason I had never matched up one of my trips with that day. This year was different. I was there, and I was thrilled.
I didn’t mean to be the first person in line. I got there at 10:30, and I was only going to ask if they were starting the Borden killings at eleven. It was hot that day, as it was on the same date in 1892, which added a realistic touch. I was fully ready to wait in the sun until eleven. I did not expect the door to open and, no questions asked, be welcomed in to sit in the parlor’s air-conditioned coolness. Did they think I was a guest from the night before? Did they do this for everybody? Did I want to be dumb and ask? I would have probably died in the heat outdoors, I knew. So I smiled and took a seat on a sofa, while my husband and 13 year old son did the same.
“Isn’t this great??” I asked my son. I knew better than to ask my husband. Engineers aren’t very thrilled by Lizzie Borden. “I guess,” my son answered. So he was going to be an engineer, too …
Admission was just $10, which is the price of a regular tour at any other time. You could also enter a raffle that gave away a free night at the B & B. At least 50 people came for the first tour.
Someone else waiting in the parlor said, “Hey, this is Thursday. The Bordens were killed on a Thursday!” Oohs and ahhs went up in the room.
The first character we encountered was Bridget. She was in working dress from the era, complete with a white frilled cap atop the head. She conducted a tour I was on last year. She was a charming Bridget. Pail and rags in hand, she was about to wash the windows.
We were then directed to the dining room. There sat Andrew Borden, white-haired and whiskered. I tried not to remember that he was the nice gentleman who let me in. Next to him sat Abby – a very pretty Abby, and a quiet Abby. They were finishing their breakfast and were about to go about their typical summer day.
I remember Andrew saying, “I think I will go downstreet and do my business for the day,” to which Abby replied a simple, “All right.”
A handsome young man named “Mr. Cunningham” was our narrator. He wore suspenders and a stylish straw hat. He told us about the real murder morning 113 years ago – how the occupants in the house were ill recently, Uncle John Morse’s unannounced visit, and who was where when.
Andrew then came to the front door, which was stuck. We were in another room, but we could hear Bridget as she expressed a loud, Irish “Pu – shaw!” and everyone laughed.
We did not see Lizzie but heard her as she talked in the sitting room with Andrew. Was there any mail? None for you. Where is Mrs. Borden? She had a note. Someone in town was sick, I think, and she went out. Are you still not feeling well, Father? No. No, I am not. I think I will lie down on the sofa a while. Yes, you do looked a bit peak-ed. Can I fix the windows for you so that there is less light? No thank you. I’m sure I will be feeling better after I take my nap.
We followed Mr. Cunningham upstairs. He told us which step to stop at and peer into the guest room, to illustrate how Abby could have been seen. It’s true – the body of the real Abby Borden could have been seen from the stairs. We went into the guest room and our pseudo-Abby laid in the spot and position Mrs. Borden was found. There was no blood on the carpet, which was probably in the best interest of the house owners.
It was here that it was decided our group was too large to go on en masse. The first half of us went on into Lizzie’s bedroom, where Mr. Cunningham told us about the family and how their relationships were strained by 1892. Lizzie’s bedroom was pretty, done in powder blues and whites. A few framed pictures hung on the walls of religious and European interest, where authentic ones might have occupied those places when Lizzie had the room. The built-in bookcase was not there in Lizzie’s day, but her known love of reading was represented by several antique volumes, hers or facsimiles. How many hours did she while away, swept up in a popular romance novel of the day, or a book on travelling to somewhere far from Fall River and its mills.
We learned about Emma and Lizzie as sisters, and how Emma still kept their biological mother’s deathbed promise to always look after “baby Lizzie”. Many in the group had questions. How old were they when their mother died? … How many years was it between the mother’s death and Andrew’s second marriage to Abby? … How many whacks did Abby really get? …
It is when we went downstairs that we saw our first real glance of Lizzie. She was eating a pear on the back porch, and we could see her through the screen door. She was in a green plaid dress. She was too pretty to be Lizzie, but she had a “Lizzie” way with her blue eyes that is more than a little eerie. She was too thin to be Lizzie, but then I remember that Lizzie was small really, weighing in at about 135 pounds and standing 5’4” tall. She was a fine Lizzie.
In the kitchen we found Mrs. Churchill. During the actual murder morning in 1892 Mrs. Churchill sees Lizzie at the screen door, asks what is the matter, and Lizzie tells her to “Please come over. Someone has killed Father,” but this was a script and creative license was skillfully used for the re-enactment. Mrs. Churchill was overseeing cups of lemonade and axe-shaped cookies. Dressed beautifully in black Victorian – mourning? – costume, she assumed her role with an enthusiastic flair and an obviously advanced degree in Bordenology. She talked to us about the heat, and the neighbors, and general conversation that would come from a lady of that era. She quickly drew us in to her world that came from another time, on another hot day in Fall River, years and years and years ago.
Lizzie entered the kitchen, and she and Mrs. Churchill chatted. Lizzie answered an audience question with an ad-libbed, “I do not do things in a hurry.” And then the door to the sitting room opened.
There lay Andrew Borden on the black horsehair sofa, taking a permanent nap. Children screamed and adults were momentarily taken aback as we saw the old gentleman we had seen eating breakfast not long before. He was in a more comfortable cardigan as he leaned on the sofa arm, his face butchered. A bloody rubber half-faced mask was on the left side of his face, complete with the eye dangling out of its socket.
We were allowed access to the cellar, which is as interesting as any other part of the house, but that day it was full of gotta-have souvenirs. T-shirts, baseball caps, and a profusion of items marked with Lizzie Borden’s name or likeness fought for room on a table while the cellar turned warm from the bodies of too many people in an allotted space. If you donated $5, you got a Lizzie poster as a clever fund-raiser to help finance the building of the barn.
I had lost track of my family a while earlier. When I caught up to them outside, I guessed they had been waiting a while when they said something about why do I always have to talk so much to people and why couldn’t I go faster. I realized the heat was not pleasant, and I let them live. It was a special day for me, and I wasn’t going to let anything get me down.
“So,” I asked our son, “Wasn’t it great?” He glanced at me and said, “I guess.” An engineer. Oh, yeah.
APPLAUSE, PLEASE
THE PLAYERS:
Andrew Borden – Ed Thibault
Abby Borden – Mrs. Levesque-Gottlieb
Lizzie Borden -Lee-Ann Wilber
Bridget Sullivan – Emily Levesque-Gottlieb
Mrs. Churchill -Shelley Dziedzic
Mr. Cunningham -Ben Rose
