Fritz Adilzby Fritz Adilz
First published in February/March, 2004, Volume 1, Issue 1 of The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.
The following essay is written for people who know about the case and who have a good knowledge of the basic facts. Allusions will therefore be made to facts without referencing or explaining them. By necessity, there will be some repetition of what has already been said in my previous essays [1], which cannot be avoided if a comprehensive picture of my theory is to be given. But I think you will be pleased to find some new angles too. The piece is divided into two parts: 1. Reconstruction, and 2. Evidence.
Fritz Adilz, Sweden, Spring 2003
PART 1: RECONSTRUCTION
Planning and Motive Issues
The plan
On Saturday, July 23, 1892, a remarkable meeting took place in a little cottage at the outskirts of the town of New Bedford, Massachusetts. It was a hot day and yet all windows were thoroughly shut in the small cabin where the meeting was held, in spite of the fact that the temperature thereby rose still another couple of degrees. One advantage of the closed windows was that disturbing sounds from outside were considerably muted. Another and greater advantage was the fact that the things that were discussed within the walls of this cabin could not be overheard by anyone outside. For in there was outlined the last details of a plan which would entail a double murder whose solution was to defy all efforts for more than a hundred years—a crime considered to be one of the most remarkable and taunting criminal cases all the time.
The participants in this bizarre meeting were two men and two women. The elder gentleman acted as chairman. His name was John Vinnicum Morse and he was 59 years of age. He was tall and
handsome, gray bearded, with no sign of a beginning baldness. The other gentleman was younger, much shorter and stocky. His looks were nondescript and he was clean-shaven. His name was William Arthur Davis and it was in his cottage that the meeting was held; the two ladies were sisters and nieces to the older man. The elder sister’s name was Emma Lenora Borden and she was 41 years of age. Her sister Lizzie Andrew Borden was 32 years old. She had celebrated her birthday only a few days earlier [2].
The meeting lasted about an hour. Before leaving, Lizzie embraced her sister and uncle and shook hands with William. She felt herself to be in a hurry, since she did not want to be absent from her temporary dwelling at Mrs. Poole’s longer than necessary. Fortunately, her landlady lived only a stone’s throw away from where she was. She had known Mrs. Poole since her school days, when Lizzie was a classmate of her daughter Augusta, now married and living in Westport.
Before going back, however, there were two things that she had to accomplish. She had to find a store where she could do some shopping and she had to find a drug store. A sign saying “Dress Goods” caught her eye and she went into the shop and quickly bought a few yards of cheap gingham and a dress pattern. Not far from there she saw a drug store. But there her mission failed [3].
The murder plan her uncle had outlined at the meeting should have a good chance of being successful. But there were risks. One difficulty was that the murders had to take place some time apart. Her stepmother must die before her father or a good deal of the estate would go to her relatives. If Abby died first, then Emma and Lizzie would get it all, even the portion their father might have willed away to his wife, since a dead person can not inherit. When her uncle told them that their father intended to make a will leaving only a minor sum to Emma and herself and let the rest go to Abby, Lizzie had understood that she must find out what the law said in the matter. According to the information she finally got it was obvious that Abby had to die first if the inheritance was to be secured.
To remove all possible doubt as to whom had died first they had decided that there must be at least an hour’s time difference between the two murders, i.e. that Abby must be killed at least an hour before her husband. This made the situation more risky. Uncle John had proposed a bold plan that had been thoroughly canvassed and refined during many sessions. The plan finally agreed upon was, in short, as follows:
Abby was to be killed during the morning hours when Andrew was out on his usual business rounds. He would be killed as soon as possible after his return home and before he had time to question his wife’s absence. On both occasions Bridget Sullivan must be out of the way. The day of the week that fitted the bill the best was Thursday, since Bridget on Thursdays was free of duty as soon as she had made arrangements for dinner that was served at noon. During the summer she seldom spent her free time in her stuffy and narrow attic chamber but mostly went out shopping or visiting friends. Thursday was also the day when she usually washed the windows, which would place her outdoors also when Abby was killed. Consequently, the murders had to take place on a Thursday.
There was, however, a catch that Emma had pointed out: On Thursdays the week’s supply of eggs from the farm at Swansea arrives. The procedure was that someone from the farm, usually the man in charge, Frank Eddy, brought the eggs in person from the farm to Second Street where he would arrive some time before noon and often stayed to dine with the family. If the murders were to be committed, Eddy must not come with the eggs. After some discussion it was agreed that Uncle John would invent a reason to go out to the farm on the day before the murders. He would bring the eggs with him when he left.
John Morse would come to the Borden’s on the day before the murders. He would arrive in the early afternoon and go out to the farm to fetch the eggs. He would spend the night in the guest room of the Borden house together with the murderer who would arrive late in the evening when everybody had gone to bed. In the morning Mrs. Borden would be induced to tidy up in the guest room. She would be killed there. John Morse would see to it that he had a perfect alibi when the murders took place.
Emma would remain with her friends at Fairhaven.
Lizzie would be the one most exposed. She had to remain in the house during the murders to guide and assist the killer, thus enabling him to do his deed with as little risk as possible and without alarming his victims. If anything went amiss, she would be the first one to be accused. It was the insight of this that had driven her to the drugstore. If the plan failed and her own part in it laid bare, she had to have a way of avoiding arrest, conviction, and shame. A small dose of a fast and deadly poison was all that was needed.
On her father’s shelves there was a book about poisons that he had acquired during his undertaking days. According to this book, most poisons, among them arsenic, caused a prolonged and agonizing death-struggle. But there was one poison named prussic acid that killed fast and painlessly. If she could get hold of that poison she would be safe. But in the drugstore, where she had said she needed an effective poison against rats, she had been told that she could not buy prussic acid without a doctor’s prescription, since this poison, because of its volatility, was extremely dangerous to handle. Well, she had plenty of time to get hold of prussic acid!
The problem was how Lizzie would escape being accused of the murders. They finally found a way. The murders would be carried out in a fashion that would leave the victims brutally massacred and the murder scene spattered all over with blood. No one of those called to the scene shortly after the murders must be able to discern the least spot of blood on Lizzie’s person or clothing. It would be obvious to everyone that the killer must have been heavily spattered with blood and the absence of blood on Lizzie would be sure proof that she had not committed the murders. The lack of blood on her would constitute her alibi. To support this would be the fact that no murder weapon would be found.
William A. Davis, with whom John Morse had been living for several months and whose father he had worked for in his youth, had undertaken to commit the murders. He had an intense hatred for Andrew, whom he felt had cheated him and his father on a business deal many years ago. Davis would be smuggled into the house through the cellar door during the night preceding the murders, bringing with him both the murder weapon —a hatchet—and his butcher’s outfit in a bag. After the murders he would calmly leave the premises in a simple but effective disguise. With a little luck someone would notice his departure and later report to the police that a stranger had left the house at the pertinent time. That would help to further divert suspicions from Lizzie.
Furthermore, if the cellar door were found unbolted, the police would assume that Bridget had forgotten to lock it after collecting her washing from the clothesline in the yard on Monday or Tuesday and that the killer had discovered this by chance and used it as his entry to the house. Even if Bridget denied having forgotten to lock it, doubts would remain. After Davis’ nocturnal entry, the cellar door would therefore be left open.
They had discussed how William best should leave the premises after the murders and get back to South Dartmouth. To minimize the risk of his identity being discovered, it was important that he should not be exposed to the public eye longer than necessary. The safest way would be if someone waited for him with a horse team to whisk him off. There was a man who had worked in Davis’ slaughterhouse for many years and who could be trusted. Fred Howe was a taciturn and parsimonious man and very devoted to the family. His dream was to be able to put away enough money to enable him to go to Texas, where his brother now worked as foreman on a cotton plantation. The two brothers wanted to set themselves up as breeders of cattle and horses. But alas, due to lack of funds this dream had remained a dream and nothing more. After the murders, when Lizzie and Emma had got their hands on their father’s fortune, funds would no longer be a problem! Howe had declared himself willing to fetch William.
The police must not suspect a conspiracy. To offset the risk, Lizzie and her uncle would pretend to dislike each other.
The Incest
When Lizzie had shown her purchases to her landlady she went to her room on the second floor. From the floor below she could hear Mrs. Poole’s daughter Carrie sing a well-known country tune. Carrie was a nice and good-natured girl but was considered somewhat slow. She was very fond of music and had a good singing voice. The melody she was singing Lizzie herself had struggled with on her piano. But that was long ago, before she had grown weary of her slow progress on the instrument and quit her lessons. A rueful smile played on her lips. Life had really not given her a great deal of joy. A miserable home life in a miserable house in a miserable neighborhood! That was what her father’s wealth had brought her! And she did not have her sister’s complacent disposition.
When she was twenty-five she could take it no more. She had to get out! The only way open to young women like her was the church. Charitable work within the frame of the church was a socially accepted way for young upper class ladies to participate in polite society and Lizzie had devoted herself to that work with enthusiasm. And her efforts had been rewarded. She was now Secretary of the “Christian Endeavor Society” and member of two of the church’s committees, “The Fruit and Flower Mission” and “The Woman’s Christian Temperance Union.” She also did good work on various occasions and sat on the board of a hospital in Fall River. But, apart from that, how had it all come to this?
How old had she been, the first time he came to her? Five, six? But the memories haunted her still. She had heard her sister’s frantic whisper: “But Father, she is asleep!” But her father had come to her bed. He had laid himself down beside her, adjusting his tall frame with some difficulty on her small bed, and, coming to rest, telling her to be quiet and still. She had felt him all over her but she had not understood what he was doing with her and she was too afraid to move a limb, although the smell of his breath and body, together with the way he touched her, was nauseating to her. She had heard Emma’s sobs from the other side of the room. Afterwards, when he had left, Emma had washed her clean and she had spent the rest of the night in her sister’s bed with her arms wrapped around her.
He had come back. At the beginning it was not very often, for mostly he went to Emma’s bed in those days. But a few years after they had moved to Second Street things had changed. He began to visit her regularly and seldom went to her sister. The sisters now slept in different rooms so there was more privacy. She had gradually learned to cope with the situation and had even learned to anticipate his best pleasures and adapt to them.
What drove her on was the thought that she in pleasing her father would isolate him from his wife to whom he never went and for whom she felt a growing contempt. Her triumph came when, during an intimate moment, he told her that she was to be his secret little wife. As a token he had given her a ring that his own mother had worn and in return she had given him her gold ring. She had paraded Andrew’s ring in front of her stepmother: He had given it to her and not to his wedded wife! She was then sixteen. But underneath it all there was this ugly feeling, which her own willpower could not quench—the feeling of an everlasting shame and guilt. She knew what she did with her father was wrong, in both the eyes of God and in the eyes of man.
At times, especially at night when she was in her bed trying to sleep, her remorse would creep up and attack her with such violence, that she felt it like a physical blow in her gut. In vain did she try to lock it out by pulling her cover over her head and shutting her eyes vigorously. It still took a long time until her pain abated and she could sleep.
Her position as her father’s favorite gave her special privileges in the house and brought her many material advantages. Her wardrobe was filled with beautiful dresses of the latest fashion and she had plenty of money to spend. But in issues that really mattered her influence was nil like it was for the rest of the household. In vain had she tried to coax him into buying a beautiful house on the Hill. At first he had tried evasiveness but when she persisted and wouldn’t let go, he had lost his patience and ordered her to clam up. He had no intention on moving and the house they lived in was good enough for them. The same thing happened with her ideas of modernizing the house, now that they were going to stay in it. He was not going to waste his dearly earned money on nonsense like a bathroom or a telephone, and as far as electric light was concerned, there was no hurry at all. Kerosene was good enough yesterday and could do today as well, end of discussion! After each such turn down, she had sulked for days until she realized that her reaction would have no effect.
Lizzie’s devotion to Christian activities did not signify that she was a religious person in the true sense of the word. To her they represented a way of breaking loose from her dull daily domestic life and of socializing with the best people in town. Her joy would have been complete had it not been for her clandestine life. She knew that what she did with her father was wrong and that there was a name for women who behaved like she did. At times, when she worked with the other ladies in a committee, she would steal a furtive glance at them and think, “If only they knew!” An intense panic would seize her, which would take her several minutes and a good portion of will power to overcome.
Yes, her relation with her father had brought her a deep, everlasting sense of guilt and shame. But she had learned to cope. With her sister Emma, however, it was different. She was literally crushed. If she could have had her way she would never have stirred out of the house. Emma’s account of what she had experienced that first night he had come to her had been pathetic and devastating:
She was laying in the dark with her arms around her little sister, whose calm breathing indicated that she was asleep. Shame and despair were deep inside of her and she wept bitterly trying to keep her sobs from disturbing her sister’s sleep. She had betrayed her vow! She had not been able to protect her sister. No, the words “not been able to” were wrong. She had not dared to protect her from that evil thing. She had never dared to go against her father. She was truly afraid of him, of his uncontrollable temper, which often made him hit and shake her and hiss awful things at her.
She remembered the first time he had come to her. It had happened only a couple of months before her beloved “Mummie” died. He had stretched himself out on her bed and told her to be quiet. Then he had done to her what he was now doing to Lizzie, only more brutally and more completely, things she had heard older girls whisper about at school as something sinful but exciting. But there was nothing exciting in this, she could have told them. She had let him have his way without daring to lift a finger in protest. During the whole of it she could hear her mother wail and stir in her restless sleep on the other side of the wall. When he penetrated her she had shrieked and tossed her head to and fro on her pillow until a powerful hand over her mouth had stifled her struggle. Afterwards he had told her not to say a word to anybody of what had occurred. Her abdomen had given her pain for a long time. He had come back to her before it was gone.
Then came the day when the doctor, before leaving, had summoned her to her mother’s bed. Her mother lay with her eyes closed, feverish and emaciated. Suddenly her eyes opened and she gazed straight into Emma’s eyes. “Emma,” she said, “you are a big girl now.” The words, coming out in a whisper, were barely audible. “You must promise me this: When I am gone you must always watch over Baby Lizzie! She is so small and fragile and needs a mother to look after her. You must be her mother!” Emma had not been able to hold back her tears.
Her emotion choked her and she could not speak a word. Her mother’s hand reached out and grasped her arm, shaking it gently. She could feel the heat through her dress tissue. “Emma, do you promise? Do you promise to watch over Baby Lizzie?” “Yes, Mum, I promise that I shall always watch over Baby Lizzie.” At these words her mother’s form seemed to relax and she sank back on her pillow, closing her eyes. Emma could hear her mumble: “Always be her little mother!” Those were her last words. A few hours later she was dead. But now Emma had let her mother down. She had not kept her promise to protect Lizzie.
The two sisters responded very differently to their father’s treatment. But even if Lizzie normally could suppress her inner turmoil and show the world a calm and serene face there were always signs of mental disturbances. She was an intelligent girl but her self-esteem was low, which affected her performance. At school she seldom scored above average and she did not socialize much with her classmates. Her teachers considered her to be uncommunicative. She tired quickly and she left school without graduating. She stole from shops, not expensive things, but ordinary everyday utilities, and once in a while some less expensive jewelry. It is said that the shopkeepers, knowing very well who she was, would list the items stolen and send the list to Andrew who paid promptly with no questions asked. Over the years she developed a lesbian tendency, which many years after the murders would culminate in her relationship with the famous actress and tragedienne Nance O’Neil.
Emma’s disturbances were more manifest. She grew introverted and brooding. She lacked initiative and only seldom left the house. Outside of the house she saw only two people, her longtime friend Alice Russell, who testified at all four judicial procedures against Lizzie, and her aunt Lurana Harrington, to whom Emma paid an occasional visit. At the trial, where she appeared as a witness for the defense, she made a fragile impression on the spectators although she did, at times, show something of the steel that was laid down in the genes of all the Bordens.
The conditions being as they were, it would seem too optimistic to believe that the family life on 92 Second Street was a happy and harmonious one. But the years apparently went by without any major discord. Abby Borden was accepted, albeit not loved, by her stepchildren who behaved civilly towards her. Lizzie called her “Mother” while Emma, who was fourteen at the time Abby entered the family, simply called her “Abby.” But around five years before the murders, the peaceful family life suddenly came to an end. Abby’s half-sister Sarah Whitehead lived in a house that she owned together with her mother and another sister. The mother planned to move and wanted to sell her share in the house for $1,500. Sarah, who risked being evicted, could not afford to bail her out. Abby asked Andrew to intervene, which he did by buying the share and putting it in Abby’s name. Sarah could now stay on in the house. Neither Abby nor Andrew informed Emma or Lizzie of the transaction, knowing all too well what their reaction would be.
But several weeks later the sisters learned of the affair by chance. They were furious, to say the least. They accused Abby of having coaxed their father to give her money behind their back and on one occasion Lizzie said that there would be nothing left for Emma and herself after their father died, if Abby had her way. They told Andrew that what he had done for Abby he ought to do for his own! For the sake of peace, Andrew deeded a house to them, his father’s house, where they had lived before moving to Second Street, but to no avail.
The climate in the family remained frosty and the sisters showed their contempt for their stepmother almost every day. Lizzie ceased calling her “Mother” and addressed her henceforth as “Mrs. Borden.” Usually the sisters refused to take their meals with their parents. They eventually got tired of being house owners because of the high maintenance costs and the complaints from the tenants. Two weeks before the murders Andrew bought the house from them for $5,000.
The Grand Tour
In June 1890, Lizzie boarded the SS Scythia bound for Europe together with five other young ladies from the upper social echelon of Fall River. The Scythia was a ship 140 yards in length and equipped with both steam engine and sail. The ship could take more than a thousand passengers. They were away for nineteen weeks and arrived back in New York on November 1. Unfortunately, not much is known about this trip.
One does know, however, that they visited several capitals and other large cities, such as London, Paris, Rome, and Florence, where Lizzie, who had a taste for literature and art, could admire the architecture, paintings, and sculptures of the great masters and go to the theater and concerts. One may also safely assume that a group of cultured young American ladies would make many friends and be invited to more than one English, French, and Italian home, where Lizzie could see for herself the respect and consideration with which the family members treated one another.
This was so unlike the constant bickering and the callous disregard of the feelings of others that prevailed in her family back in Fall River. Lizzie, who was usually slow to divulge anything of her own feelings and concerns but who had, maybe for the first time in her life, a taste of happiness and freedom, could not help saying to one of her companions on their last day on board that she was now returning to an unhappy home. And, indeed, she was!
The Change of Rooms
Lizzie returned home at the beginning of November. What she had seen and learned during her long, wonderful trip had formed a desperate resolve inside her to change her life. Life had so much to offer! During late hours she told her sister of the highlights of her journey and of the life of the European families so unlike their own on Second Street. The issue now was what they could and should do regarding their own situation. It was their father’s lack of respect coupled with his stubbornness and inability to compromise, supported by their stepmother’s obsequious compliance that was the cause of all their miseries. It was the daughters’ duty to obey their father, no doubt about that, but there was a limit to what he could ask of them. The humiliating treatment he subjected them to was wrong and had to stop. Lizzie emphasized her arguments with sweeping gestures. Next time he came Emma must not allow him in! She must not unlock her bedroom door. No matter how much he threatened and cursed her she would tell him to go away and leave her and her sister alone. Emma sat on her bed, crouched and a picture of mere dejection. At length she whispered, “Lizzie, I can’t do it. I do not have your courage and strength. I can never go against Father.” A moment of silence ensued. Then Lizzie sat down beside Emma and put her arm around her shoulder. “Emma,” she said, “I think we should swap rooms. If I take your room I will see to it that he does not have his way with us anymore. Dearest Little Sister, he will never get past me, so you will be perfectly safe, I promise you that. I am not afraid of him.” That very night the sisters changed rooms. And Lizzie proved herself as good as her word. The next time Andrew came, he was turned away, and also the next time and the next. Then he stopped coming. And Emma, inspired by Lizzie’s example, started to refuse him on her own [4].
The Disinheritance
Andrew lay in his bed staring
out in the dark. At his side he heard his wife’s heavy breathing, occasionally turning into snores. Should he wake her up? He dismissed the idea immediately. He felt no desire for his overfed wife. He never had and it was years since they had been together in that way. And besides, if he now tried his luck he might well be rejected again. Inside him a cold rage was building. What right did they have to humiliate him? He didn’t visit them so very often nowadays, did he? They were selfish and ungrateful daughters who did not care about their duty. Yes, “duty” was the exact word, for according to the Lord’s Commandments daughters should honor and obey their father! They had refused him and Lizzie had told him to go away.
His poundings on their door and his threats had been in vain and he could only hope that Bridget in her attic chamber had not heard the commotion. But he would teach them a thing or two! That luxury-craving daughter of his might regret being so high and mighty! He would disinherit them! He would leave the bulk of his estate to his good and faithful wife and only a small portion to his daughters. After his death they would be financially dependant and unjustly scorned. That would serve them right! And there was a clever and subtle way of letting them know about this—he would “leak” the information to his brother-in-law John.
If he told John “in confidence” that he intended to make a will favoring Abby at the expense of his daughters he could be sure that John, who always took Emma’s and Lizzie’s side, would pass on this information to them. He surely would like to see their faces when they learned about this! [5]
John Morse was Emma and Lizzie’s natural uncle on their mother’s side. He was also a good friend of their father, maybe the only friend Andrew had ever had. They suited one another very well. They were both industrious and thrifty and lacked all appetite for what is generally called the good things in life. Andrew had a high regard for John’s judgment in business and consulted him frequently on investment issues.
Some time after the sisters had changed rooms, Morse got in touch with them. He was deeply concerned. Andrew had told him in confidence, he said, that he planned to make a will leaving most of his estate to Abby and only a small portion to his daughters. How much they would get, Andrew hadn’t said, but Morse feared that it could be much less than $25,000 each. The reason for this was that Andrew wanted to protect his wife who had faithfully and loyally helped and supported him during the difficult years when he accumulated his fortune. He also wanted to punish his daughters for their contemptuous treatment of their stepmother.
Their uncle’s tidings came as a shock to Emma and Lizzie. Lizzie was outraged and Emma was devastated. When they were alone in their rooms, Emma suggested that maybe they should allow him back. Lizzie sneered at her. “What if we did,” she said, “he might send us packing! Or he might accept and still cheat on us! Now that he had got this idea of disinheriting us in his head there is no turning back. He and his ugly wife must go, that is our only chance!” Though balking at first, Emma soon admitted that her sister was right. Andrew was serious. He intended to leave them penniless!
They discussed the situation with their uncle who was of the same opinion. Legally Andrew could do as he pleased with his property. There was no way they could win a lawsuit against him. Theoretically, their only chance of seeing any money would be if Andrew died before making a will, since they were entitled to inherit their father’s estate under the law. But if he had already made his will then all would be lost. Or would it? If Abby died before her husband what would happen with her portion? Could a dead person inherit? John knew about a case of an old lady who was at loggerhead with her only son and had bequeathed her estate to a nephew. Well, that nephew had suddenly died of an accident. When the old lady died, her son had inherited all her property despite her will. Uncle John was not absolutely sure of the facts but he undertook to update himself on them.
John Morse was just as outraged as his nieces over the way things were going. He had no more sympathy for Abby than she had for him. She had never shown him any kindness and seemed to avoid him as much as possible on his visits. Of course, she was the one behind Andrew’s decision! When they were alone she had persuaded him that his daughters would, upon his death, throw her out of the house and let her fend for herself as best she could. So now he had to protect her as a reward for her loyalty. As if Sarah, their own mother and Uncle John’s own sister, had not been loyal and self-sacrificing during the first eighteen hard years, when she and her husband had struggled notoriously against poverty and when Andrew really had needed the support of a good and faithful wife! Did not Andrew feel at all responsible for the welfare of his children by his first wife?
What had started as a theoretical discussion, at least as far as John Morse was concerned, had eventually taken a more sinister turn. They were now actually planning to do away with both Abby and Andrew. Their discussions gradually took the shape of a plan similar to the one they set in motion about a year later. But there was one difference.
The Burglary
It was important to create the impression that an outsider, an enemy, could enter the house and commit the murders undetected. Therefore, they would stage a burglary in the house. The burglary would serve two purposes. First, it could be a “dress rehearsal” showing that someone could break into the house in broad daylight and get away undetected, with members of the family at home. The police, then, would be more prone to believe that an outside perpetrator had committed the murders. Second, the police would believe that the very same intruder, who would later murder Mr. and Mrs. Borden, had committed the caper. Hopefully, the police would think that the first break-in had been a foiled murder plot, that the murderer had entered the house, hiding somewhere on the ground floor, waiting for Andrew to appear.
When Andrew did not appear, he had sneaked up to the couple’s bedroom and stolen some items there before disappearing. A few weeks later he would have returned. He would have found Abby at home and would have killed her when she confronted him. He would then secrete himself somewhere in the house waiting for Andrew, his real target. He would have managed to kill Andrew and get away without being seen. This all depended on the presumption that the police accepted the burglary at face value.
The burglary was set in motion on Wednesday the 24th of June, 1891. Andrew and Abby had gone over the river to his farm at Swansea. Left in the house were Lizzie, Emma, and Bridget Sullivan. Possibly John Morse was present as well. When Andrew and Abby returned they discovered that someone had stolen things from their bedroom and had tampered with Andrew’s desk. When the police came, Lizzie sprung into activity and showed them the cellar entrance. It would seem that the thief had gained access to or left the house through the cellar. Lizzie also found a nail in a door lock. Apparently the thief had used the nail to pick open the lock.
What went wrong we don’t know. Maybe some of the missing things were found by accident among Lizzie’s possessions. Maybe there was some other cause. It is said that some of Lizzie’s friends used tickets that were taken in the burglary. It seems that the burglary investigation was called off and never solved. For Lizzie and Emma the whole thing was a catastrophe. Instead of being an asset in the conspiracy plan, the thwarted burglary had now become a liability. The police suspected that either Lizzie or Emma or Bridget or all three of them were behind the burglary. The murders had to be postponed, if not indefinitely, then for a long time. At least until the day when there would no longer be a connection between them and the burglary in the minds of the police. They waited a year [6].
THE EXECUTION OF THE CRIME
The Condition of the Crime
All the more imprudent appears to be Lizzie’s initiative to see a lawyer in Providence, RI, and inquire about the legal stipulations of inheritance. That Lizzie took the risk of seeing a lawyer shows that she felt she had to be absolutely positive that there was no catch in hers and Emma’s inheritance rights [7]. In the Witness Statements, Charles C. Cook, business manager for Mr. Borden, said that before the murders, Lizzie had been to see him three or four times but only one of those visits was to inquire about the Ferry Street property.
The Arrival of an Executioner
On Wednesday, the 3rd of August, 1892, shortly before 11 PM the noise of the day’s activities in Fall River, like in many other towns, had long ceased and the streets lay deserted but for some stray night strollers. There were lights to be seen in some of the widows facing the streets. In the house on 92 Second Street there was a candle burning in the spare room on the second floor, whose flickering light could have been noticed through the half opened window by an observant passer-by. Hidden behind a partly closed shutter, a man was standing. His name was John Morse and he seemed to be waiting for something, every now and then darting a glance at his watch.
Soon the clatter of hoofs and the grinding of wheels rolling over macadam could be heard. The noise rapidly grew in volume and Morse could see the team that passed under the window southwards in the direction of Rodman Street. The bright moon light [8] cast long shadows, clearly visible, trailing the team. Morse had no problem recognizing the two occupants of the buggy’s coach-box. To the right he saw his friend William Davis, in whose house at South Dartmouth he had been living for ten months. To the left of him Fred Howe was sitting, holding the reins. Howe worked for Davis in the latter’s slaughterhouse. The noise diminished as the team moved on.
Howe made a left turn onto Rodman Street and then another left turn onto Third Street. After a few moments’ ride he stopped the team and Davis alighted. From the floor in front of his seat he withdrew a leather bag and said in a low voice, “Be sure to be back in good time so you don’t miss me.” His companion raised his whip as a sign of understanding, gave a lash, setting the horse in motion. When the team had disappeared, Davis looked around. In front of him there was a tree-filled lot. Behind it he could see the top of the Borden house. He was just about to enter the lot when he heard footsteps.
Quickly he hid his bag in some shrubbery and parked himself on one of the steps leading to a house across the street, pretending to be asleep. A man came up to him and spoke to him. When there was no answer, the man shook him so that his hat fell off. After the man had climbed the steps and disappeared into the house, Davis picked up his hat. He was just about to move when he noticed another man approaching him. He sat down again and pretended to be asleep. The man came up to him, put his hand on Davis’ hat, and spoke to him. Davis did not respond and eventually this man, too, climbed the steps and disappeared into the house.
Davis rose, picked up his bag and went into the lot in front of him and proceeded up to the boarded fence between this lot and Borden’s yard. From his bag he brought out a hatchet—the future murder weapon—and pounded with the side of its head on the plank and made some mock attempts to climb the fence. He repeated the procedure two or three times after which he left the lot the same way he had entered it.
He was fairly sure that someone must have heard the racket and hopefully had peered out of a window to see what was going on. He hoped that someone would eventually report what they had heard and seen to the police. And, hopefully, the police would believe that the murderer, who no doubt was insane, had tried to scale the fence but had been stopped by the barbed wire running along the top. He would have then circled the block and entered the Borden yard from Second Street. There he would have discovered that the cellar door was open and enter the house.
To substantiate this theory as much as possible Davis followed the procedure to the letter. Thus he circled the block and entered the Borden yard from Second Street. The moonlight made him see all the details clearly. He proceeded to the cellar door, opened it, and went inside.
Beneath the short staircase, John Morse, who had shortly before unfastened the door, was waiting for him with a lamp. He led Davis through the house up to the guest room. When they were on the landing Lizzie’s door opened and she appeared, greeting Davis with a smile and a handshake. She then withdrew and Morse and his guest entered the guest room. Not a syllable had been uttered [9].
The Murder of Mrs. Borden
Shortly before nine o’clock on the next day, Thursday, August 4, Lizzie came down from her bedroom. She found her stepmother in the dining room and exchanged a few words with her. She then went to the kitchen, where Bridget was busy cleaning up after breakfast. Bridget asked her what she wanted for breakfast and Lizzie said that she did not want anything in particular but that she would take coffee and some cookies. Suddenly Bridget exclaimed, “Miss Lizzie, I don’t feel well.” She put her things down and went out of the kitchen door. Lizzie finished her coffee and went back into the dining room, where Abby was still dusting. She reminded Abby to tell Bridget to wash the windows. Lizzie proceeded into the sitting room where she found her father in his Prince Albert coat, which he always wore outdoors regardless of the season. Lizzie gave him a letter she had written to Emma and asked him to mail it for her.
After Andrew left the house, the scene was set for the first act in the drama. Those still in the house were Abby, Lizzie, and Bridget. Uncle John had previously left to visit relatives on Weybosset Street. Lizzie went up to her stepmother, showing a pale smile. “Mother,” she said (usually she addressed her stepmother as “Mrs. Borden” but on this occasion she probably used the more friendly and less formal word of “mother”), “I don’t feel very well. Would you mind helping me with the guest room?” Abby was pleased as well as flattered by Lizzie’s friendly attitude. She was all too well aware of the fact that neither Lizzie nor her sister would ordinarily want to see her in the part of the second floor where they had their bedrooms. Therefore, she acquiesced to Lizzie’s request with some effusion. And together the two ladies went up to the guest room.
William A. Davis had spent the night in the guest room, sharing it with John Morse. Since it was important that William should have as good a rest as possible he had been given the large bed to himself. Morse had laid himself down on the floor. And amazingly enough, Davis had managed to get a few hours sleep, which was more than his roommate had, a fact that could be seen in his bloodshot eyes. In the morning, when John Morse descended the stairs to get his breakfast, a fully dressed Lizzie showed William Davis into her sister’s room. There Davis put on his butcher’s outfit and took off his shoes. If he had to respond to calls of nature, he had to use the equipment in the guest room or, but less likely, in Lizzie’s room, since he could not use Emma’s equipment for obvious reasons.
The murderer, William Davis, had a problem. The topography of the guest room offered no possibility to spring a surprise attack on his victim. A writer at the time, Todd Lunday, was quite right when he pointed out that there was no way the killer could have done his foul deed without leaving Mrs. Borden time enough to scream for help. At least it was obvious that the killer could not have counted on any such possibility. Therefore, there was only one way to go about it—Davis had to approach his victim quite openly wearing his butcher’s clothes and with his hatchet ready, all this without evoking her suspicions. When he was near enough he must strike her down quickly before she had time to scream. If Mrs. Borden knew him or at least knew of him, and if Lizzie introduced him with a reasonable explanation as to why he was dressed as a butcher, it would not be impossible.
Since no one of those directly concerned has spoken, it is, of course, impossible to tell exactly what happened, but the following seems to be a very plausible scenario: Lizzie and Abby are in the guest room and start to make the bed. Suddenly Lizzie says, “Oh, I forgot to say something to Maggie. I’ll be right back!” She leaves the room. She descends the steps and goes through the kitchen and finds Maggie outside of the screen door on her way to get a handle for her brush. Lizzie asks her if she will wash the windows and gets an affirmative answer. In other words, the reason why Lizzie left the guest room was to find Maggie and ascertain whether the maid would be outside and out of the way.
Back in the guest room, Lizzie continues to work with her stepmother. When the bed is just about made, Lizzie exclaims, “I hear someone at the door. I’ll go and check.” She leaves the room and draws the door after her. The landing is now blocked from Abby’s view. Before descending the stairs Lizzie calls out, “I am coming, I am coming!” This call is meant for William, who is waiting in Emma’s room, dressed as a butcher and with his hatchet in his hand.
Davis, who has taken off his shoes, goes through Lizzie’s room out on the landing where he stations himself near the guest room door. If Mrs. Borden chooses to come out on the landing to see who is calling, she will be felled before she has an opportunity to cross the threshold. The sound and vibrations of her heavy steps will betray her. But she remains in the guest room, perhaps adjusting some pillows. Lizzie climbs the stairs again. She has heard the splashing and the brushing announcing that Bridget is washing the sitting room windows on the outside or she has, through the sitting room windows, seen Maggie at the fence talking to the Kelly girl.
Lizzie opens the guest room door and enters, followed by the killer. She says, “Mother, it is Mr. Davis, who has come to see Uncle John.” And William Davis, holding his hatchet inoffensively near the hatchet head, says, “Excuse my appearance, Mrs. Borden, but there was this horse at Kirby’s that fell and broke two of his legs and couldn’t be moved, so I had to help dispatch the poor animal. When will John be back?” She says, “We expect him back here for dinner at noon.” He says: “Well. I can’t wait that long,” and, while holding out the hatchet to her, “John forgot his hatchet at Kirby’s last night and I thought I’d give it back to him. Can I leave it here with you?” [10]
Davis advances towards Abby calmly smiling, with the hatchet in his outstretched hand, while Lizzie remains at the door. Mrs. Borden, dumbfounded, makes a gesture as if to receive the instrument. Suddenly his other hand comes up, grips the handle and strikes at the poor woman. It is a glancing hit, cutting a flap on the left side of her forehead. Mrs. Borden, stunned, reels backward and, turning herself to her left, starts to fall. The falling motion makes the next blow miss the head. Instead, the hatchet hits a spot between her shoulder blades, where it buries itself down almost to the helve. When she hits the floor, she is already dead. Davis, implacable, puts himself astride his victim and continues to strike and strike and strike. In doing so he feels that he has straddled his victim a little too forward. In order to get more purchase for the edge of his hatchet, he inches himself backwards. The many whacks throw blood and gore about the room, falling off the swinging instrument [11].
The fact that the killer could stalk his victim without alarming her strengthens the case against William Davis. Surely he was known to Abby. Through John Morse she had probably met him and she knew of his profession as a butcher and of his relationship with Morse. This made him able to approach her in the way he did without causing her alarm. But who else could have done that?
One question remains to be answered: How will a housewife react, seeing a man in a butcher’s clothes enter her furnished guest room? Will she not be concerned lest he touch anything? There are two things to say about this. First, the guest room was not Mrs. Borden’s responsibility, and was not her domain. It was the domain of Emma and Lizzie. Secondly, the conspirators must have foreseen this. Davis may have been wearing a new and clean outfit with just one smear of blood at the front to account for the killing of the horse.
The Murder of Mr. Borden
Lizzie’s laugh
When Andrew Borden returned home, Lizzie was upstairs together with William Davis. She heard the doorbell ring and went out on the landing to see who was calling. She saw Bridget struggling with the locks and heard her irritated exclamation when she had to unsettle all the three locks. Lizzie laughed. According to Bridget it was not a nervous giggle. Lizzie laughed out loud and this laugh has the same startling dissonance as a false note in a Bach cantata.
Bridget said herself that she exclaimed “psah!” when she could not open the door, but even if her expression was a little more powerful, like “shit!” or something even stronger, it is hard to understand that Bridget’s exclamation should have provoked such merriment in Lizzie who knew that her stepmother lay brutally slain only a few yards from where she stood. If one prefers to see her laugh as an indication that she was in fact innocent and felt herself happy and relaxed, one has to explain away all the evidence to the contrary. How can her laugh be explained?
There are strong indications that Lizzie had begun to have second thoughts about the murders. Her strange conversation with her friend Alice Russell on the eve of the murders shows that she was worried as well as depressed. Her failure earlier on that day to procure a fast and deadly poison to use on herself in case of emergency had most certainly increased her fear of what she knew was about to happen on the next day.
At 10.45 AM on the murder day she was in her bedroom with William Davis, waiting for the return of her father. She knew that she would very possibly have to wait for yet another hour or more. Very often he did not return before dinner time. She was thinking of how he had looked this morning before going out. He had not looked well at all. What if he took ill! He was wearing his thick Prince Albert coat as he always did. What if he had sunstroke! He would be brought to a hospital and that would be the end. The game would be up. And she had no poison! Why hadn’t she called the whole damn thing off when there was still time? Damn, damn, damn, why hadn’t she done that? And now it was too late, the old cow was already dead! A messenger could arrive any minute announcing that her father had been taken to a hospital. Her strong nerves started to give in to a growing panic.
She heard the doorbell ring and Maggie’s steps. Oh my God, the messenger was here! She had no idea of how she got out on the landing, but there she stood feeling cold sweat on her brow. She heard the impatient rattle of a key in the door lock. A wave of immense relief swept over her. Her father was back! She heard Bridget’s frustrated “psah!” and in a flash she saw the comical absurdity of the situation. She who had been dying to see her father enter through that door had, by neglecting for once to unlock it this morning, in fact done her utmost to keep him out! And like a dam giving way to water pressure, air forced itself through her constricted throat, exploding into a half hysterical laugh.
The Murder
A few minutes later she joined her father in the dining room. Bridget was busy washing the inside of the sitting room windows. When her father asked about his wife, Lizzie told him that her stepmother had gone out to visit some friend who was ill. Had someone come to fetch her? No, she had received a note. Lizzie was well aware that her allegations about the note could complicate the plan, if it became known. She therefore spoke in a low voice, but then she saw that Maggie was so near that she must have heard anyway. A little later she helped her father lie down on the couch in the sitting room. He had a paper roll in his hand, which he had fetched from the safe in the dressing room upstairs. Lizzie had no doubt of what kind of paper it was—a bequest of some kind or the draft of a will. But now she had to get rid of Maggie!
She found her maid in the kitchen and baited her with the information that there was a sale at Sargent’s, where on this day dress goods could be had for only 8 cents a yard. Bridget replied that she would get some and retreated to her room in the attic [12].
Lizzie returned to the dining room to resume the ironing of her handkerchiefs. A low but unmistakable sound of snoring came from the sitting room. A thought suddenly struck her. This would be the opportunity! Maggie would not be down for at least twenty minutes. That was far more than was needed. In passing the sitting room she looked at her father. He was sleeping, facing the wall. Since the couch was too short for him he had to bend his knees in order to get enough space. Lizzie went into the front hall and upstairs to the guest room where William Davis was. She explained the situation to him and preceded him down the stairs into the parlor. She whispered that she would check that “the coast was clear” and tiptoed into the dining room and the kitchen.
A few seconds later she showed herself in the door frame to the sitting room. She saw William on the threshold to the parlor and was just about to give him the thumb-sign, when her arm froze. Her father moved, mumbling a few incoherent words! He turned over, landing on his back or rather on his right side. She saw the hatchet go up in the air and come crashing down on her father’s head. She heard a grunt and saw his feet drop to the floor.
In the same instant she felt a tiny wet drop hit her forehead and she leaped back into the kitchen, quickly closing the door after her. She heard several thuds. Then all was still, a stillness of death, accentuated by the waning chimes of the City Hall bell—a void, where time itself seemed to have stopped. She touched her forehead and saw red on her finger. The brand of Cain, she thought with a shudder. Suddenly the door opened and William appeared. He was dressed in his street clothes and had his bag in his hand. Lizzie led him to the sink, where he washed the blood off his face and hands and where she, herself, wiped the little red spot from her forehead. He then put on a false beard, donned a floppy hat, grabbed his bag, nodded at Lizzie and left by the screen door.
After carefully examining the front of her dress and satisfied that there was no blood to be seen on it [13], Lizzie went into the sitting room. Knowing what to expect she willed herself to look away from the ghastly sight, searching only one particular object: the paper roll beneath the couch. Collecting her train as best she could, she advanced into the room, carefully avoiding stepping on the blood on the floor. She stooped and picked up the document. Leaving as carefully as she came, she went back into the kitchen and put the document into the fire. She saw some blood specks on her hand which had rubbed off of the document and washed her hands in the sink. She meticulously checked the front of her dress but did not see any blood drops. She then called Maggie.
The Escape
Fred Howe spent the night of August 4 with his horse team in a little grove just outside Fall River. Shortly before 9 AM he was back on Second Street, where he surveyed the Borden house. He had parked his horse team on an adjacent street. Around twenty minutes past nine Mr. Borden came out. He went north down the street and passed Howe who stood near the north gate of the property. When Andrew had disappeared, Howe fetched his horse team and parked it outside Doctor Kelly’s house, facing north. He prepared himself for a long wait. Morse had told him that Andrew would probably return at some time between eleven and twelve, probably nearer twelve. But on this day Andrew returned early. Around a quarter of eleven Andrew passed him a second time. Howe saw him enter his yard and disappear behind the building. A few moments later he came back and went to the front entry of the house. But he could not open the door and shook the door handle impatiently. Finally the door was opened from inside and Andrew disappeared into the house.
Now Howe knew that his wait would not be long. He heard the bell strike and counted eleven chimes. A few minutes later a man appeared turning the northwest corner of the house. He had a beard and was wearing a floppy hat and had a bag in his hand. If Howe had not known that the man was his boss and friend William Davis, he would hardly have recognized him. Davis came up to the team, hoisted his bag onto the wagon floor, jumped up and seated himself beside Howe, who immediately set off. “All went well,” Davis muttered. Those were the only words said. When Howe had turned his team east on Pleasant Street, he stopped. He gave the reins to Davis and jumped down on the ground. The team rolled on while Howe entered a shop and asked permission to use the telephone. He asked the attendant at the switchboard to put him through to Daniel Emery on Weybosset Street. After getting John Morse on the line he informed him that the business was now done. He left the shop and went to the depot, where he boarded the next train to New Bedford.
PART 2
Evidence
The Nature of the Evidence
Before going into detail it would be advisable to briefly discuss the various kinds of evidence that exist. At the trial this issue was elaborated on by both sides and also from the bench. In his closing argument Mr. Knowlton said that there were two kinds of evidence, direct evidence and circumstantial evidence. “Direct evidence is what you see and hear. All other evidence is circumstantial.” At the time the unique features of fingerprints were known but were not yet in use in criminal cases and DNA evidence was not to make its entry into the courtrooms until the 1980s.
Direct evidence is what you see and hear. The testimony from an eyewitness is direct evidence. Usually direct evidence does not need interpretation. If “A” says that he saw “B” kill “C”, you do not have to worry about the identity of the murderer. “A” has said that “B” and none other was the killer. But this does not mean that the evidence must be correct. An eyewitness can make a mistake or lie deliberately. Even if direct evidence does not need interpretation, the reliability of it must always be evaluated.
Circumstantial evidence is interpreted evidence. Each piece of this kind of evidence can be interpreted in more than one way. This is why so many people look at circumstantial evidence with distrust. But, as was pointed out at the trial, if there is a volume of circumstantial evidence all pointing in a certain direction, this type of evidence can be taken as more reliable than eyewitness testimony. Remember, eyewitnesses may be mistaken or lie deliberately. Different items of circumstantial evidence, then, are links in a chain of evidence that links the perpetrator to the crime.
Circumstantial evidence has its roots in established facts. The reason why these facts occurred is not always clear-cut. There are several possible explanations, as shown in two examples from the present case.
According to the testimony of three people, Lizzie tried to buy a deadly poison on the day before the murders. If, after evaluation, you accept this alleged fact as a real fact, the question remains why Lizzie wanted the poison. Three reasons have been given:
1. She wanted the poison to clean her sealskin cape of moths;
2. She had planned to kill her parents with poison;
3. She planned to kill herself if the murders did not play out as planned.
In other words, this particular piece of circumstantial evidence offers at least three possible interpretations.
A sharp instrument, presumably a hatchet, killed both victims. This is an undisputed fact. What does this brutal method say about the murderer? There are several possibilities:
a. The murderer was a lunatic;
b. The murderer wanted to create the impression that he/she was a lunatic; c. The murderer was inexperienced and gave a lot of extra whacks to be sure that the victims would die;
d. The murderer hated his/her victims and killed in a blind fury.
Whether any of these explanations is more credible than the others is an open question.
Parts of The Theory
1. Lizzie and her uncle John Morse conspired to kill both Abby and Andrew Borden;
2. Emma was involved in the conspiracy;
3. They hired a killer to do the work for them. The name of the killer was William A. Davis;
4. There was yet another man in the conspiracy. His task was to spirit the killer away from the murder scene after the murders;
5. Andrew Borden had subjected his daughters to incest;
6. Andrew Borden planned to more or less disinherit his daughters in favor of his wife. The knowledge of this prompted the murders.
1.
LIZZIE AND HER UNCLE JOHN MORSE CONSPIRED TO KILL ANDREW AND ABBY BORDEN
1.1 LIZZIE
1.11
Lizzie’s Inquest Testimony
Lizzie’s performance at the inquest convinced the police and many students of the case that she had a hand in the murders. It seems impossible that an innocent person, who was just giving an account of her own whereabouts on the morning of the murders, could have told so many unbelievable things as she did at the hearing. Following are a few examples of what is meant (the number within brackets are the page numbers of the Q/A in the
interrogation):
1.111
When, on the morning of the murder day, her father returned home from his business tour downtown, Lizzie was upstairs, either in her own room or out on the landing. We have Bridget’s word on that. She heard Lizzie laugh upstairs (direct evidence). Yet Lizzie testified that she was downstairs, either in the kitchen (60) or in the dining room (59). A few Q/A’s later she changed her statement and said she was upstairs in her own room, then again she goes back to her original statement that she was downstairs (60). If she knew that her stepmother lay killed in the guest room and if she had herself played an active part in the murder, it would be natural for her to try to persuade Mr. Knowlton that she had been downstairs practically the whole time she had been alone in the house with the murdered woman. It could be argued, though, that she could have wanted to place herself downstairs, even if she was innocent. She might have felt hostile suspicions emanating from Mr. Knowlton and that itself might have made her reluctant to admit that she had been near her dead stepmother.
Furthermore, it has been argued, that it is often difficult to remember exactly where you were at any given time or when someone in your household comes or goes. In other words, Lizzie might not have paid attention to where she was or when her father returned home. But if that had been the case, you would expect that her answers would show some kind of insecurity or hesitation, like “I am not sure I remember but I think I must have been downstairs in the kitchen or maybe in the dining room.” But no such insecurity or hesitation exists. The first time she responds, she just says, “I was down in the kitchen” (60). The only insecurity she shows concerns the question whether she was in the kitchen or in the dining room.
A little later she apparently makes a slip, for when Mr. Knowlton asks her again where she was, she says, “I think in my room up stairs” (61). When he incredulously exclaims, “Then you were up stairs when your father came home?” she responds, “I don’t know sure, but I think I was” (61). Then she goes back to her original statement and says that she thought she was in the kitchen. And she substantiates it by saying that she was not on the stairs “because I went up almost immediately, as soon as I went down, and then came down again and stayed down” (62). And when Mr. Knowlton asks her to explain why she had said she was upstairs, she says, “The other day somebody came there and she let them in and I was on the stairs; I don’t know whether the morning before or when it was” (62).
The next day Knowlton returns to the episode. Lizzie maintains that she was downstairs (66). Lizzie rounds it off in this way: “I said I thought I was on the stairs; then I said I knew I was in the kitchen. I still say that now. I was in the kitchen” (66). There is no insecurity or hesitation shown in this answer. She remembers where she was, period.
1.112
She is anxious to press upon Mr. Knowlton that she spent very little time in her room, so close to where her stepmother lay killed, but she contradicts herself again. She admits that she went upstairs, carrying up some clean clothes, but she didn’t stay there, only so long as it took her to sew a little piece of tape on a garment (60). That was before her father returned home. A little later she said differently, admitting that she was in her room when the bell rang (61). On Knowlton’s question, “What were you doing?” She responds, “As I say, I took up these clean clothes, and stopped and basted a little piece of tape on a garment” (61). Knowlton: “Did you come down before your father was let in?” Lizzie: “I was on the stairs coming down when she let him in” (61). But then she wasn’t on the stairs after all, “I think I was not; because I went up almost immediately, as soon as I went down (for breakfast), and then came down again and stayed down” (62). And finally in the next day’s interrogation she says she went upstairs before her father went out to baste a piece of tape on a garment and that she did not go upstairs again after her father went out (67).
1.113
Her response to the questions about her uncle shows both contradiction and confusion. This part of her testimony will be analyzed below when her uncle, John Morse, is discussed.
1.114
Lizzie’s visit to the barn is intriguing, both her alleged motive for going and the time she claimed to have spent there. It is not that one can say with certainty that she lies—her account is mostly consistent. Off and on she seems to be trapped but she always finds a loophole. It is just that her narrative is so utterly unbelievable.
She says she had gone to the barn to look for a piece of iron to use as a sinker. She planned to go to Marion on Monday, a place where there was fishing. Knowlton is clearly skeptical. He gets her to admit that she had no fishing equipment, no fish line, no fishhook, but when he summons this up, for some incomprehensible reason, she introduces the farm into her narrative. On the farm she had hooks and lines and she also thinks there were some sinkers (71). But when Knowlton in his direct statement asks her, “You had no reason to suppose you were lacking sinkers?” (71), she no doubt realizes her error of bringing the farm in but knows it is too late. She has to go on and she finds her loophole: “I don’t think there were any on my lines.” In other words, there may have been sinkers at the farm but she could not use them because they were not on her own lines. This may seem ridiculous but one can’t say for certain that it was a lie. But Knowlton smells blood. He fires question after question at her with the aim to trap her in an inconsistency. He wants her to admit that she first said there were sinkers at the farm. She doggedly sticks to her previous statement that there were no sinkers on her lines at the farm. Knowlton gets nowhere and he finally switches his questions to Lizzie’s visit to the barn.
Knowlton: “You went straight to the upper story of the barn?” Lizzie: “No, I went under the pear tree and got some pears first” (73). This answer will provide her with a loophole later on in the interrogation. Was it a stroke of genius or simply the plain truth? Knowlton then asks her a number of questions regarding the box she searched in her quest. Her specific answers are not challenged.
Knowlton then moves to the duration of Lizzie’s visit to the barn. His aim is to prove that she had not spent fifteen to twenty minutes up there, as she had said. Her search could not have lasted more than a couple of minutes and it was hot, wasn’t it? Lizzie admits it was very hot. Knowlton: “How long do you think you were up there?” Lizzie: “Not more than fifteen or twenty minutes, I should not think.” Knowlton: “Should you think what you have told me would occupy four minutes?” Lizzie: “Yes, because I ate some pears up there” (75). She now uses the loophole she prepared in the Q/A on page 73. Knowlton asks her what she did up there, ending with “Can you give me any explanation why all you have told me would occupy more than three minutes?” Yes, she says, she can, because she had eaten her pears up there, no less than three of them (75).
You can read his thoughts: “Aha, now I’ve got her! Go easy now, and prepare the ground carefully!” In the morning she had not been feeling well and had not wanted any breakfast. Knowlton: “You were feeling better than you did in the morning?” Lizzie: “Better than I did the night before” (76). That is no answer to the question and Knowlton is determined to get one. But it takes him six more questions before Lizzie finally says: “No, I felt about the same.” Knowlton: “Well enough to eat pears, but not well enough to eat anything for dinner?” Lizzie had previously testified that she had told her stepmother that she did not want anything for dinner (76). She now finds another loophole: “She asked me if I wanted any meat.” This is, however, not what she had said before, when she said she had told her stepmother that she did not want anything for dinner. But Knowlton does not notice, so she gets away with it.
And so it goes on topic after topic during the whole interrogation. Lizzie’s answers are often forced and unbelievable but Mr. Knowlton fails to show her up as a liar.
1.115
Lizzie’s performance at the inquest shows that she was not drugged. Even if what she said is very often unbelievable, her answers are mostly well controlled and she can more than once refer to them as the questioning progresses. Oddly, Lizzie denied having seen Bridget washing the inside of the sitting room windows despite the fact that the two women were there at the same time (70). At one point she cries out in sheer desperation: “I don’t know it – I don’t know what your name is” (70). The situation was, although she denied it, that she entered the sitting room from the front hall and she proceeded into the dining room where her father was. She was now to confront her father for the first time since her stepmother was murdered. It was crucial for her to convince him that his wife had gone out and to do it in such a way that he would not expect her back for quite some time. Thoughts like these may have absorbed her mind to the extent that she did not notice Maggie or what she was doing. And since she was afraid that Mr. Knowlton might try to trap her, she did not dare to bluff.
1.116
Lizzie’s testimony at the inquest is not what you would expect from an innocent person who is just telling her whereabouts at the time her parents were killed. It contains too many unbelievable and contradictory statements. And if she were innocent, the murderer must have had a most extraordinary luck, being able to spend one to two hours in the house, kill two people while knowing exactly when and where to strike, and all this without being detected by Lizzie.
1.117
Did she go out to the barn or did she remain in the house as the prosecution believed? If she did not go out, how could she have described the contents of the box in such detail and also say that she had to pull some boards over to get at it. Mr. Knowlton did not challenge her statements here. On the other hand, there was no box in the loft, as it seems. The box was downstairs. On the workbench in the loft there was a basket. Lizzie said that she had not been out to the barn for about three months. Could she really have remembered all those details? Well, she might, if her errand last time she went there—three months prior or later—was to look for some iron or lead to fix her screen. If she then had to pull over some boards and had then searched the box or the basket, it would be no wonder that she could remember what was in it.
Mr. Borden could not have returned home much earlier than 10.45. At the trial Jonathan Clegg testified that Mr. Borden had left his shop on 6 North Main Street at 10.29 and James Mather testified that Mr. Borden left the store of Jonathan Clegg, South Main and Spring Street, at 10.40. Both witnesses said they were sure of the time because they had looked at the City Hall clock.
The murders were reported to the police at 11.15. That leaves us just half an hour with which to deal. If you take into consideration all the things that happened from the time Bridget let Mr. Borden in, until the time she went upstairs to her room to have some rest, and from the time Lizzie hollered to Bridget to come down, until the time the murders were reported to the police, it will be obvious to you that Lizzie could not have spent more than maybe a couple of minutes in the barn, had she gone out there at all.
1.118
One final point about Lizzie’s inquest testimony. If she were involved in a conspiracy to deprive her parents of their lives, why did she not come up with a better story than she did? Perhaps she did but, for some reason, she felt she had to change it at the last minute.
1.12 Lizzie’s alibi
1.121
One has to remember that Lizzie had to stay in the house to assist and guide the killer who would whack his victims in the most brutal and bloody fashion. She must show herself to outside people as soon as possible after the last murder, people who would testify that they had not seen one single drop of blood on her. That was the cornerstone of her alibi, showing clearly that she could not have committed the murders. Another important point was that no murder weapon would be found. The killer would take it with him when he left. And lastly, the neighborhood was a crowded one. It was very likely that someone would see a stranger leaving the Borden house shortly after the murders and report this to the authorities.
All these three facts—no blood on Lizzie, no murder weapon, and a stranger coming out from the house—would ensure that Lizzie would never be seriously suspected. Therefore, Lizzie might have thought that the police would never doubt her statement that she was in the barn when her father was killed and that may have made her a little bit too lackadaisical in the matter. As we know, her calculation failed. No one had seen any blood on her, that’s true, but at the time she testified the police believed they had the murder weapon and no one had said anything about a stranger leaving the premises. So prosecutor Knowlton scrutinized Lizzie’s story in the most rigorous fashion.
1.122
There is, however, yet another possible explanation why her inquest testimony was so poorly put together. She may have changed her account at the very last minute. The first person she told where she was when her father was killed was Bridget Sullivan. When Bridget got back after having gone in vain to fetch Doctor Bowen only minutes after the last murder, Lizzie said, “I was out in the back yard and heard a groan, and came in and the screen door was wide open.” According to Mrs. Churchill’s preliminary hearing testimony, Lizzie told her that she went “to the barn to get a piece of iron, and came back, heard a distressed noise, and came in, and found the screen door open.” From then on she told everybody that she had been in the barn.
What she told Bridget was not necessarily inconsistent with what she told Mrs. Churchill. To go to and from the barn she had to pass through the back yard. And Bridget may involuntarily have left out any mentioning of the barn when she quoted Lizzie’s information of where she was when her father was killed. But there is also the possibility that Lizzie really meant to say that she had left the house for the back yard and for nowhere else. What Lizzie had planned to say may have been the following:
After having left my father on the couch, I took my hat and went out into the back yard to sit down and cool off in the shade under the pear tree. I picked up a couple of the juicy pears from the ground and ate them slowly. After some fifteen or twenty minutes I felt refreshed and went back to the house. I found the screen door wide open, which surprised me a little bit, as I remembered that I had shut it going out. I went in, however, put down my hat and opened the door to the sitting room. I was shocked to see Father dead on the sofa with blood all over his face. I immediately ran and called Maggie down.
As one often does, she added an embellishment at the spur of the moment, saying that she had heard a groan, which is ridiculous. A groan emanating from her father in the sitting room could hardly have been heard out in the back yard. And furthermore, had she responded to a groan to reenter the house, she would have confronted the killer.
Had she told this story she would have given a natural and credible explanation of her ab-
sence. Why did she not stick to it? Why did she change it saying she had gone out to the barn? The following may be the explanation: When Bridget went to fetch Alice Russell, Lizzie called Mrs. Churchill over to her. When Mrs. Churchill was on her way over, Lizzie was struck by a thought. She knew that the cellar door had been left open. But what did “open” mean? Did it
mean that the cellar door was
closed but unfastened? Or did it mean that it was slightly ajar? Or did it mean that it was wide open? She didn’t know! She couldn’t tell! And now it was too late to run down and see. Addie would be there in seconds.
If the door was wide open, how could she have missed seeing it, if she had spent a quarter of an hour out in the back yard? And she could not say she had seen the door wide open, since it was perhaps closed but not fastened. She couldn’t say she had remained in the back yard. She must say she had been in the barn. She remembered a situation some time back. She had been in the barn, where she had tried to find something suitable to fix her screen, a piece of iron or lead or something. When Mrs. Churchill now “popped” the question, she said: “I went out to the barn to get a piece of iron.” And a few minutes later, Alice Russell says that Lizzie “said she went out to get a piece of tin or iron to fix her screen or window.”
She realized that she could not maintain that she had wanted some iron to fix her screen. A check from the police would reveal that there was nothing the matter with her screen or any other screen in the house. She must find something else to say. After some brooding she decided to say she had wanted lead for sinkers. It wasn’t good, but she could think of nothing better to say, so it would have to do and the police would probably be busy looking elsewhere anyway.
1.13
Lizzie’s attempt to buy prussic
acid
According to pharmacist Eli Bence, Lizzie said that she wanted prussic acid to clean her sealskin cape. Both the prosecution and students of the case have ridiculed this explanation. According to Knowlton, Lizzie wanted the poison to kill her parents. Only when she failed to procure the poison did she resort to the hatchet. But why should anyone want a volatile and dangerous poison to kill moths when there were an abundance of well-established insecticides to be had? And why did not Lizzie ask for such an insecticide when she was denied the prussic acid?
There is a much more credible answer as to why Lizzie wanted poison and a poison that would kill very fast and painlessly. If she had planned these murders or taken part in such a planning, it would be natural for her to think of the possibility that the plan could fail. If it did, she risked a conviction for her part in the murders, which would entail a severe punishment and eternal shame. Under these circumstances it would be natural for her to look for some means of escape should the worst happen. If the plan failed and her part in it was laid bare, she would swallow some prussic acid and that would be the end of it for her. This also explains why she wanted prussic acid and no other kind of poison.
1.14
Opportunity and motive
Lizzie was in the house when her stepmother was killed and we have only her word that she was not in the house when her father was murdered. There is no independent evidence that she was not around in both cases. And if she was, she had the opportunity to guide and help the killer.
There were newspaper articles to the effect that Andrew Borden was planning to make a will, favoring his wife at the expense of his daughters who would get only $25,000 each. The daughters had learned that through their uncle John Morse. The articles also said that Emma and Lizzie had visited their uncle in South Dartmouth several times to discuss “financial transactions.”
1.2
UNCLE JOHN
There are several items of evidence that suggest that Lizzie’s uncle John Vinnicum Morse was involved in the murders.
1.21
The eggs
On the day before the murders, John Morse said he went out to Andrew Borden’s farm in Swansea to make arrangements to transfer a couple of oxen he had bought from Andrew for his landlord William Davis in South Dartmouth. According to the man in charge, Frank Eddy, Morse stayed only ten to fifteen minutes and it seems that he made no arrangements to take the cattle during that time. He had asked about the condition of Mr. Eddy, who had been ill, and had then asked to get the eggs. These eggs have a special significance and let us hear what Mr. Eddy had to say about them when State Detective Seaver interviewed him on August 11, 1892.
“Since hearing of the murder,” Mr. Eddy said, “it has seemed to me a singular coincidence that he should have come over that night for the eggs for, had he not, I should have taken the train and gone to Mr. Borden’s Thursday morning, arriving at the house about a quarter to eleven or eleven.”
If Morse were a member of a conspiracy to kill Andrew and Abby Borden it would be of vital importance for him to get the eggs and to thus prevent Mr. Eddy from bringing them over on the next day. Had Mr. Eddy done so, the whole murder scheme would have run a great risk of blowing up in the conspirators’ faces.
If Morse was innocent, the murderer, whomever he or she was, must have had a most exceptional stroke of good fortune that Morse should have gone out to the farm and get the eggs, thereby making the murderer so narrowly escape the pending disaster, a disaster of which he or she may not even have been aware.
1.22
Morse’s alibi
All those who have studied the case seem to agree that John Morse had an absolutely airtight alibi. He left the Borden house well before the first murder could have been committed and he returned well after the last murder was done. The meantime he spent with a niece who was staying with a family named Emery on Weybosset Street in the east part of Fall River. According to his testimony, Morse went on foot to Weybosset Street. He could relate in detail which streets he had walked to get there. He had looked at his watch, both when he left the Borden’s and when he left the Emery’s.
From the newspapers we know that when Morse took leave of Mrs. Emery and his niece he had trouble with the door lock. The noise he made trying to open the door caught the attention of a lady living in the apartment above the Emery’s. He had taken a horse car back to Second Street. On board the car there were six priests “three of whom sat on the seat with him.” The presence of the priests caught the attention of the driver as well as of the driver of a streetcar passing by in the opposite direction. Morse could even tell the number of the wagon he had traveled in as well as the number of the conductor’s cap.
There is a saying that too much and too little spoil everything. In this case it seems to be very much too much. Morse’s ability to tell those numbers is really startling. Remarkably enough, there is no mention of this in the Stenographer’s Minutes of Police Reports, kept at The Fall River Historical Society.
On the other hand, these reports do not say much regarding the police’s check on Mr. Morse’s alibi. And yet they must have made a thorough check since Morse was the prime suspect at first, i.e. until the time they had checked his alibi and found that he could not have been on the scene during the murders. The information about the numbers stems from Mr. Arthur S. Phillips, who belonged to the defense team at the trial.
Mr. Phillips’ book, The Borden Mystery, In Defence of Lizzie Borden, was published in 1946, more than fifty years after the murders and five years after his death. On page 7, he gives his startling information about the numbers. In his article in the April 2002 issue of The Lizzie Borden Quarterly the late Terence Duniho, with whom I had the pleasure and the privilege to correspond during several months right up to his death, points out a number of factual mistakes that Mr. Phillips is guilty of in his book.
These mistakes, however, were about trivial things that may easily cease to be exact in one’s memory after so many years. But Morse’s ability to recite those numbers is of a different nature. It is a startling achievement, the information of which will stick in one’s mind forever and which more than more than one writer about the case has observed. And very likely Mr. Phillips was an exact man, despite all his memory lapses in his book. He was an historian as well as an attorney. The above-mentioned book is part of a trilogy, named The Phillips History of Fall River. We can rely on Mr. Phillips’ information that John Morse was able to state the number of the car in which he traveled from the Emery’s as well as the number of the conductor’s cap.
If John Morse were involved in the murders as a member of a conspiracy, he would certainly see to it that he had an irrefutable alibi. All the incidents mentioned above—his detailed narrative, looking at his watch when he left the Borden’s and the Emery’s respectively, the trouble with the door lock, seating himself with the priests on board the car and memorizing those numbers— go well with such an ambition.
If he were innocent, his perfect alibi is harder to explain. It is definitely not the kind of alibi you would expect from someone who was not aware that he would need to prove his whereabouts. The best explanation would be that Morse never did recite those numbers and that Mr. Phillips’ information about it is wrong after all. But even so, Mr. Morse’s alibi seems to have been remarkably detailed. Lizzie’s lawyer, Mr. A. J. Jennings, told the reporters the following regarding Morse’s alibi: “He [Morse] accounts so satisfactorily for every hour of that morning, showing him to be out of the house, that there seems no ground to base a reasonable suspicion.” All in all, it is very difficult to reconcile John Morse’s detailed alibi with the assumption of his innocence.
1.23
Morse’s visit to the Emery’s on Weybosset Street
On the murder day, Mr. Morse left the Borden’s at about a quarter of nine and went to Weybosset Street in the east part of Fall River where he saw a niece who was staying with a family named Emery. When Officer Medley, later in the day and after the murders, went to the Emery’s to check on Morse’s alibi, Mrs. Emery told him that she had invited Morse to stay for lunch but that Morse had declined. The reason for this was, as Mrs. Emery and Morse’s niece understood, that Morse had business elsewhere, namely in New Bedford, to which place he would go when he left them. At the inquest Morse testified that he had told Mrs. Emery that he had another engagement, which he did in fact have. Why did he say to Mrs. Emery and his niece or, at least, why did they get the impression that he was going to New Bedford? There is an explanation.
The deal between Morse and the murderer must have been this: Morse would receive a telephone call after both victims had been murdered, telling him that it was done and that he could now go back to the Borden’s. The murderer or the murderer’s assistant, if he had one, would be the caller. If Mrs. Emery invited Morse to stay for lunch before he got that telephone call he could not yet go back to the Borden’s, since he would risk arriving there before the murderer had time to kill Andrew, who may have returned home late. Morse could not tell Mrs. Emery that he was going there. He had two options. He could accept Mrs. Emery’s invitation or he could decline, saying that he had business somewhere else, e.g. in New Bedford. He chose the latter option.
Since Morse could not be sure, beforehand, that he would be invited to stay for lunch, he must have set a latest time before noon, the dinner hour, after which the murderer’s assistant would no longer try to reach him at the Emery’s. The assistant would then call at another place agreed upon, probably at the Davis’ at South Dartmouth, where Morse lived. As it turned out, Andrew was killed around eleven o’clock and the assistant had time to call Morse at the Emery’s before the settled time limit was reached.
As we can see, John Morse’s statement to Mrs. Emery, that he was to go to New Bedford after leaving them fits well into the conspiracy theory.
If Morse were innocent, his statement is harder to explain. As has already been mentioned, Morse testified at the inquest that he told Mrs. Emery that he had an engagement and therefore could not accept her invitation to him to stay for dinner. And when he left the Emery’s he actually went back to the Borden’s. If he was innocent, Mrs. Emery probably misunderstood him.
1.24
When John Morse was at the Emery’s he got a telephone call advising him of the murders, although he denied it.
If John Morse were involved in a murder conspiracy and had gone to spend the forenoon hours at the Emery’s to give himself an alibi, he would have seen to it that he was notified as soon as the murders were done. As will be shown later, it would be in the best interest of the conspirators that Morse return to the Borden home as soon as possible after the murders.
The simplest way to notify him would be if someone gave him a telephone call. And somebody did! The Evening Standard reported the following on August 5 from an interview with him: “‘And I thought you told me,’ resumed the interviewer, ‘that first you learned of this affair [the murders] by a telephone message when you were in another part of the city.’ ‘You are mistaken,’ said Mr. Morse, ‘I said no such thing.’ ‘But you did,’ persisted his questioner, ‘and I will take my oath on it.’ ‘You are mistaken,’ Morse replied once more.”
There can be no doubt that he got that call in spite of his denying it. The reporter’s phrase “and I will take my oath on it” clearly shows that Morse had said so, no matter how much he wanted it unsaid afterwards. How does this fit into the conspiracy theory and the assumption that he was innocent respectively?
If Morse was a member of a murder conspiracy, he made a mistake when he first told the reporter that he learned about the murders through a telephone call when he was at the Emery’s. When the reporter brought this call up, Morse realized that he had said too much and denied his first statement by insisting that the reporter was mistaken. He, John Morse, had said no such thing. He simply had to deny having received the call, since he would be left at a loss for an answer if the reporter had wanted to know who had called him. To give a name here, Davis’ or the assistant’s name, would mean focusing police attention on them, which, in the end, would risk the exposure of the plot.
If Morse was innocent, it is difficult to understand why he denied that he had been notified by a call. The best explanation of his denial seems to be that there was no call, after all, and that the reporter must somehow have misunderstood or misremembered what Morse had said.
1.25
Morse had no luggage with him when he came to the Borden’s
Many students of the case have found it peculiar that Morse came to Fall River without luggage of any kind, although he apparently had planned to stay overnight at the Borden’s. There seems to be no room for misunderstanding here since he testified at the trial that he had come without even a handbag. This has been looked upon as proof of his eccentricity. But there was, in fact, a perfectly rational explanation.
If he was a member of a conspiracy in murder he faced a dilemma. As has already been pointed out he might have had to go directly to South Dartmouth from the Emery’s. But to do so without collecting his belongings at the Borden’s would have looked suspicious. The only way to avoid this dilemma was to bring no luggage at all.
If he was innocent he must have forgotten his luggage at home. Another possibility is that he had originally had no intention to stay overnight but that he delayed himself and missed the last train back. Both explanations are possible but contain an element of the unexpected.
1.26
Morse lied about why he went to the Emery’s
John Morse testified that he went to the Emery’s to call on a niece and a nephew who were staying there. He claimed he had not seen his niece in a long time. As it happened, he only saw his niece. His nephew was out when he got there. A reporter had interviewed Morse’s niece and she told him that Morse had, three weeks before, driven her from the town of Warren to Swansea. The reporter asked Morse why he had said he had not seen her in a long time. Morse did not deny the fact but said he had only seen her “for just a moment or so.”
If John Morse was involved in the murders he would, of course, have taken pains to get himself an irrefutable alibi. A visit to an address more than a mile from the Borden’s during the time the murders occurred would constitute such an alibi. But, once again, he overdid it. It would have sufficed to say that he wanted to call on his young relatives but he felt he had to give a reason so he said he had not seen his niece in a long time. And when the reporter showed him that this was not true he tried to save the situation by saying that he had seen his niece for just a moment. A drive from Warren to Swansea would have taken longer than “just a moment or so.”
However, his clumsy lie goes well with the assumption that he was involved in the murders.
If he was innocent it is difficult to understand why he lied. It is true that he knew about the murders when he told the lie and could have been anxious to show that he had a good reason to go the Emery’s. However, this seems a little bit too far-fetched. He certainly knew that his alibi was solid. Could the episode just have slipped his mind?
1.27
Morse’s return to the Borden homestead
John Morse boarded a horse car at 11.22 AM. According to his testimony, he got off at the junction of Pleasant Street and Second Street and walked up to the Borden’s where he arrived at about 11.40. He passed the house and walked directly into the back yard where he picked up and ate some pears. Only after having swallowed those pears did he go to the kitchen entrance where Bridget Sullivan and Charles Sawyer were and one or both of them informed him of the murders.
Those who have written about the case have been very puzzled by Morse’s behavior when he returned. He must literally have elbowed his way through a large number of people to get himself into the back yard. And yet he paid no attention and asked no question, just walked on into the back yard! Perplexing, indeed!
The question is, however, was a crowd around at the time (11.40 or maybe one or two minutes later) when Morse got back? Officer Doherty heard the news of the murders at 11.32 and he said that when he arrived he had only seen a reporter sitting on the steps. So maybe there was not yet a crowd. But some people were most likely there since we know that there was a considerable crowd there when Doctor Dolan arrived around 11.45.
Crowd or no crowd, some people were certainly around. Doctor Bowen and a couple of policemen had arrived but they were probably inside the house out of Morse’s sight. Mr. Manning and some other reporter as well as Mr. A. J. Cunningham were there but they might have been on the south side of the house, looking for tracks on the ground. Charles Sawyer stood guard at the kitchen door. He might have gone into the kitchen for a drink of water or in some other errand at the exact moment when Morse passed the kitchen porch on his way to the back yard or Morse might have taken him for a visitor and decided to stay out of the way until this visitor had gone as he seemed to be doing, standing there in the kitchen entrance. However, so far as we know, Morse did not breathe a syllable of having seen Sawyer or anybody else when he made his way to the back yard.
If John Morse took part in a plot, he would have been most anxious to have it established that the cellar door was, in fact, open. If the cellar door were found open, the police would believe that the murderer could have entered through it at some time during the night unseen by anyone inside or outside the house. One will remember that Morse asked Asst. Marshall John Fleet if Fleet thought that the murderer could have entered the house during the night and have concealed himself in the house. So he went into the back yard to make it known that the cellar door was in fact open—he had probably intended to enter the house himself through the cellar, before any visitor discovered this and fastened it. As it was, Morse found the door already fastened which must have been a great disappointment and a source of worry for him. Somebody must have fastened it before he arrived. Hopefully, a policeman would have done it.
If Morse was innocent, although he knew about the murders, as he most certainly did, it is perplexing that he did not enter the house at once. Seeing so many people around and realizing for the first time the enormity of what had happened, he might, however, have wanted a few moments to calm down. Regardless of this, most men in his position and under these circumstances would not have gone into the back yard but would have entered the house at once.
1.28
Lizzie panicked when questioned about her uncle’s visit at the inquest
In all, Lizzie responded to 857 questions at the inquest. Of these, 358 were put to her on the first day, Tuesday August 9, and 428 on the second day, Wednesday Aug. 10, and finally 71 on the last day, Thursday, August 11. Guilty or innocent it must have been a harrowing ordeal for her, taking into account the heat of the day and the fact that the witnesses had to stand up during the interrogation. Yet an analysis of her testimony shows that she was in control of her own performance. Even if her answers were often very hard to believe, they were possible and this fact seems to have exasperated Mr. Knowlton more than once. The only time when she really lost control of her answers was when she was interrogated about her uncle John Vinnicum Morse. That happened on the first day after she had answered 125 questions in a calm and controlled fashion. When this part of the interrogation started, Lizzie was certainly not exhausted. It is important to look at these Q/A’s more in detail. They are presented here below:
(p. 53)
Q. When did Morse come there first, I don’t mean this visit, I mean as a visitor, John V. Morse?
A. Do you mean this day that he came and stayed all night?
(This answer reveals confusion as the question was not phrased in a confusing manner.)
Q. No. Was this visit his first to your house?
A. He has been in the east a year or more.
(As the response stands, it is not an answer to the question. But perhaps there was a stenographic error. Maybe her answer was, “No, he has been in the east a year or more.” It would then be an answer to the question as well as an intimation of why this was not his first visit.)
Q. Since he has been in the east has he been in the habit of coming to your house?
A. Yes; [he] came in any time he wanted to.
(This answer seems to imply that Morse was not a very rare visitor.)
Q. Before that had he been at your house, before he came east?
A. Yes, he has been here, if you remember the winter that the river was frozen over and they went across, he was here that winter, some 14 years ago, was it not?
(Nothing wrong with her memory here.)
Q. I am not answering questions, but asking them.
A. I don’t remember the date. He was here that winter.
(Knowlton’s harsh reply seems to be uncalled for.)
Q. Has he been here since?
A. He has been here once since; I don’t know whether he has or not since.
(Lizzie’s answer is contradictory and shows confusion. But Knowlton’s question is not absolutely clear. Since when? But Lizzie seems to have understood.)
Q. How many times this last year has he been at your house?
A. None at all to speak of; nothing more than a night or two at a time.
(One cannot escape the impression that Lizzie is trying to belittle the importance of her uncle’s visits.)
Q. How often did he come to spend a night or two?
A. Really I don’t know; I am away so much myself.
(It should be clear to Lizzie that Mr. Knowlton is speaking of the last year.)
Q. Your last answer is that you don’t know how much he had been here, because you had been away yourself so much?
A. Yes.
Q. That is true the last year, or since he has been east?
A. I have not been away the last year so much, but other times I have been away when he has been here.
(This answer contradicts her earlier answers. Although the three previous Q/A’s have concerned this last year, Knowlton is anxious to have her confirm what period she is actually speaking of, no doubt, before asking her to be specific. And Lizzie grabs at the loophole, thus contradicting herself.)
Q. Do I understand you to say that his last visit before this one was 14 years ago?
A. No, he has been here once between the two.
(Knowlton apparently has a moment of confusion asking this question. Lizzie’s answers to his questions regarding her uncle’s visits have been contradictory and evasive. She said that Morse had been at their house once between 14 years ago and the time he came east, where he had been over a year. Actually Morse arrived east on April 14, 1890. Was she thinking of this same period again? If it were just a misstatement, she would have corrected it in her ensuing answers, which she did not do.)
Q. How long did he stay then?A. I don’t know.
Q. How long ago was that?
A. I don’t know.
Q. Give me your best remembrance.
(p. 54)
A. Five or six years, perhaps six.
Q. How long has he been east this time?
A. I think over a year; I am not sure.
(Consistent with her earlier answer, albeit a little more evasive.)
Q. During the last year how much of the time has he been at your house?
A. Very little that I know of.
Q. Your answer to that question before was, I don’t know because I have been away so much myself.
A. I did not mean I had been away very much myself the last year.
(Consistent with her earlier answer.)
Q. How much have you been away the last year?
A. I have been away a great deal in the daytime, occasionally at night.Q. Where in the daytime, any particular place?
A. No, around town.
Q. When you go off nights, where?
A. Never unless I have been off on a visit.
Q. When was the last time when you have been away for more than a night or two before this affair?
A. I don’t think I have been away to stay more than a night or two since I came from abroad, except about three or four weeks ago I was in New Bedford for three or four days.
(Lizzie introduced the expression “more than a night or two” when responding to a question on page 53. Unfortunately Mr. Knowlton hangs on to it in his questions. It would have been interesting to hear Lizzie say if she had been away over night at all except when she was with Mrs. Poole in New Bedford, but since Knowlton persists in using the expression “more than a night or two,” we will never know for sure.)
Q. Where at New Bedford?
A. At 20 Madison street.
Q. How long ago were you abroad?
A. I was abroad in 1890.
Q. When did he come to the house the last time before your father and mother were killed?
A. He stayed here all night Wednesday night.
Q. My question is when he came there.
A. I don’t know; I was not at home when he came; I was out.
(As will be seen from her answers later in the interrogation, this is simply not true or she lied later on. Her answer shows the same kind of reaction you have when you have accidentally put your hand on a red-hot piece of iron.)
Q. When did you first see him there?
A. I did not see him at all.
Q. How did you know he was there?
A. I heard his voice.
Q. You did not see him Wednesday evening?
A. I did not; I was out Wednesday evening.
Q. You did not see him Thursday morning?
A. I did not; he was out when I came down stairs.
Q. When was the first time you saw him?
A. Thursday noon.
Q. You had never seen him before that?
A. No sir.
(p. 55)
Q. And went right up stairs to your room? [After returning home from Miss Russell’s on Wednesday at about nine o’clock.]
A. Yes sir.
Q. When was it that you heard the voice of Mr. Morse?
A. I heard him down there about supper time – no, it was earlier than that. I heard him down there somewhere about three o’clock, I think. I was in my room Wednesday, not feeling well, all day.
(This answer contradicts her answer on page 54.)
Q. Did you eat supper at home Wednesday night?
A. I was at home; I did not eat any supper, because I did not feel able to eat supper; I had been sick.
Q. You did not come down to supper?
A. No sir.
Q. Did you hear him eating supper?
A. No sir. I did not know whether he was there or not.
(Actually he was not. He returned after suppertime.)
Q. You heard him in the afternoon?
A. Yes sir.
Q. Did you hear him go away?
A. I did not.
Q. You did not go down to see him?
A. No sir.
Q. Was you in bed?
A. No sir, I was on the lounge.
Q. Why did you not go down?
A. I did not care to go down, and I was not feeling well, and kept to my room all day.
(This is consistent with her earlier answer but contradicts her apparently hastily given answer on page 54.)
Q. You felt better in the evening?
A. Not very much better. I thought I would go out, and see if the air would make me feel any better.
Q. When you came back at nine o’clock, you did not look in to see if the family were up?
A. No sir.
Q. Why not?
A. I very rarely do when I come in.
(p. 56)
Q. Who did you find down stairs when you came down? [On the murder day morning.]
A. Maggie and Mrs. Borden.
Q. Did you inquire for Mr. Morse?
A. No sir.
………………………………………………..
Q. Did you speak to either your father or Mrs. Borden?
A. I spoke to them all.
Q. About Mr. Morse?
A. I did not mention him.
Q. Did not inquire anything about him?
A. No sir.
Q. How long before that time had he been at the house?
A. I don’t know.
Q. As near as you can tell?
A. I don’t know. He was there in June sometime, I don’t know whether he was there after that or not.
(p. 57)
Q. I ask you once more how it happened that, knowing Mr. Morse was at your house, you did not step in and greet him before you retired?
A. I have no reason, except that I was not feeling well Wednesday, and so did not come down.
Q. No, you were down. When you came in from out.
A. Do you mean Wednesday night?
Q. Yes.
A. Because I hardly ever go in. I generally went right up to my room, and I did that night.
(p. 80)
Q. Did you know that Mr. Morse was coming to dinner?
A. No Sir, I knew nothing about him.
Q. Was he at dinner the day before?
A. Wednesday noon? I don’t know. I had not seen him; I don’t think he was.
(p. 81)
Q. Was Mr. Morse there? [At tea on Wednesday night.]
A. No Sir, I did not see him.
Lizzie’s answers to the questions about her uncle John Vinnicum Morse are very peculiar to say the least if they concerned just an uncle, whom she detested to be sure, but who had nothing to do with the murders. It is evident that Knowlton cannot understand her total lack of interest in him and his visits, and that’s why he so doggedly goes on asking question after question about him. Victoria Lincoln, who did not suspect Morse’s complicity in the murders, sees Lizzie’s conduct during this part of her interrogation as panic, “But her evidence, so calm and well controlled at the start, fell abruptly into panic and chaos at the bare mention of Uncle John” [17].
It is not difficult to agree with Mrs. Lincoln. Lizzie’s first 13 answers go well, as they stand, with the assumption of a panicky state of mind. If she and her uncle conspired to kill Mr. and Mrs. Borden it is easy to understand her panic, when Knowlton started to ask questions about him. She must have thought: “Why does he want to know about Uncle John? Is he on to something?” And there is one more thing:
On Monday the 8th, the day before she testified, the husband of Mrs. Borden’s sister Priscilla, Mr. George B. Fish, publicly voiced his opinion that Lizzie and her uncle had concocted the deed and had hired someone to do it. Mr. Morse was asked what he had to say to this accusation. Here is his response according to The Evening Standard [18]: “Nothing at all. Mr. Jennings, our counsel has advised me to have nothing to say for publication.” The reporter insisted, “But that directly implicates you and Miss Borden. Have you nothing to say to that?” Mr. Morse replied, “You know as well as I do what grounds there are for such an absurd charge as that. It is entirely unreasonable; that is all I will say.”
It goes without saying that Mr. Morse told his nieces of his encounter with the reporter. The three of them must have realized that if Mr. Fish could make the connection between Lizzie and her uncle so could the authorities. They must have realized how dangerous the situation was. The only way to handle this would be to disassociate Lizzie as much as possible from her uncle. In order to do so, Lizzie insisted that she had not come down to greet him or even seen him during his visit, until after the murders, that she had not asked her father or stepmother a single question about him or even mentioned his name. Her struggle to alienate herself from her uncle is so desperately exaggerated that it gives—as does Morse’s too perfect alibi—the opposite impression from the one she wanted to create. Lizzie’s replies to Mr. Knowlton’s questions about her uncle constitute, in a fierce competition with other evidence, perhaps the strongest indication that the two of them conspired to kill Andrew and Abby.
1.29
Evaluation of evidence against John Morse
If we look at the evidence presented above in points 1.21 – 1.28 we will find that each item of evidence, when looked at separately, can be given an innocent interpretation with the possible exception of Lizzie’s testimony regarding her uncle (see 1.28). This is not surprising since those items are purely circumstantial, thus open to more interpretations than one. However, the innocent explanations related to those pieces of evidence will in each case contain an element of coincidence, misunderstanding, or denial that the fact on which certain evidence was based, did in fact, occur.
On the other hand, and what is far more important, all the evidence discussed here can be interpreted in a way that is absolutely consistent with the theory that John Morse was involved in a conspiracy with his niece Lizzie Borden. In some cases, the fact on which the evidence was based was a necessary one for the successful outcome of the murders—that Morse fetched the eggs (1.21) and his denial of the phone call (1.24). It is impossible that eight events, all of which are consistent with the conspiracy theory but whose interpretations as innocent events are much less convincing, would have occurred at a time so close to one major event—the murders —and concern only one individual —John Morse—if this individual was truly innocent. Based on this evidence, and with the addition of the evidence that has been presented against Lizzie Borden, I think that it is proved beyond a reasonable doubt that Lizzie Borden and her uncle John Morse were involved in a conspiracy to deprive Abby and Andrew Borden of their lives. And since neither of them killed in person it is also proved that another party was involved, someone who wielded the hatchet.
2.
EMMA WAS INVOLVED IN THE CONSPIRACY
When the murders occurred Emma was not in Fall River. Two weeks prior to them she had gone to see a friendly family at Fairhaven, a town seventeen miles away. She arrived back in Fall River at about 5 PM on the murder day in response to a telegram she had received at Lizzie’s instigation. Was Emma involved in the conspiracy and was her trip to Fairhaven a step she took to provide an alibi? Or did the conspirators use her absence as an opportunity to commit the murders?
2.1
It is a fact that Emma did all she could to help her sister in her difficult ordeal. At the trial she lied more than once to help her sister. And she was anxious to spread around her firm belief in her sister’s innocence. Would she have done what she did on her sister’s behalf if she, herself, had been innocent? Must she not have known, or at least suspected, that Lizzie had, or at least could have had, a hand in the murders? And, if so, must not her loyalty to her dead father have forced her to take a different attitude?
More than twenty years after the murders, Emma explained her attitude to a reporter from a Boston newspaper, Mr. Edwin Maguire. She said: “Perhaps people wondered why I stood so staunchly by Lizzie during the trial. I’ll tell them why. Aside from my feeling as a sister, it was because I constantly had in mind our dear mother.” Emma had made a vow to her mother on her deathbed that she “would always watch over ‘baby Lizzie’.” Emma concluded, “I want to feel that when Mother and I meet in the hereafter, she will tell me that I was faithful to her trust and that I looked after ‘baby Lizzie’ to the best of my ability.”
In the interview Emma said that she was convinced of her sister’s innocence, mainly because Lizzie could never have hidden the hatchet where the police could not find it. That is an interesting statement. One would, perhaps, have thought that Emma would have expressed her confidence in Lizzie’s innocence by saying that Lizzie could never have killed her father, whom she loved, or anyone else, or that Lizzie abhorred violence, or something emotional like that. Instead she gives a rational reason why Lizzie could not have killed their parents—she could not have hidden the hatchet where the police could not find it.
If she took part in the conspiracy, she would, of course, have helped her sister in every way she could, just as she did. But there is room, also, for a different interpretation of Emma’s attitude. She may have felt that she had not always lived up to her vow to her mother on her deathbed and that she would now seize upon this last opportunity to fulfill it. In her heart she might have approved of Lizzie’s actions, even if she had no hand in the murders and believed that her father was going to disinherit them. So although Emma’s attitude goes well with the assumption that she was a member of the conspiracy, it is not conclusive.
2.2
In the interview Emma suddenly broke down. Spiering says, “As Edwin Maguire watched, Emma’s voice became a low moan. And then a howl. Convulsively she began to sob. Clutching the arm of the low rocking chair she abruptly stood up. She began pacing to and fro, attempting to control herself by pressing a black-bordered handkerchief against her lips. . . ‘For several minutes the paroxysm of grief continued. Then the little figure straightened slowly to dignified posture, the remaining traces of tears were removed by soft dabs of the handkerchief, and Miss Borden became quite herself once more.’”
This seemingly unprovoked breakdown in front of a stranger reveals that Emma was suffering from a deep and tragic trauma that never left her. The murders themselves cannot have caused it. Terrible as they were they were, nevertheless, more than twenty years had past since they occurred. No, her breakdown, as well as her voluntary and continuous seclusion was the natural consequence of a long-tormented conscience of knowing and consenting to the murders. Poor Emma. She must have been in a living hell!
2.3
At the inquest Emma happened to give herself and her sister away. Through Lizzie’s testimony, Mr. Knowlton must have gotten the impression that Lizzie could not stand her uncle John Morse. Emma testified that she had corresponded regularly with Uncle John while he was west. The next Q/A is very telling.
Q. He [Morse] was enough of an Uncle then to be a correspondent?
A [Emma]. He is a very dear Uncle of ours, of mine.
The question is why did she change her statement “of ours” to “of mine”? Since Lizzie and her uncle unquestionably colluded in the murders, Lizzie must have misled Mr. Knowlton as to her true feelings for her uncle. She did not detest him at all. On the contrary, she must have had very friendly feelings for him and a total confidence in him, which Emma, living so closely with Lizzie, must have known. So why did she correct her statement? Since the first part of her statement “He is a very dear uncle of ours” obviously was the truth it could not have been just the correction of a misstatement. No, by her correction she went from truth to lie. The only reasonable explanation is that Emma partook in the conspiracy and knew how important it was to alienate her sister from her uncle, so that the authorities would not suspect collusion between them.
2.4
But the inquest was not the only time when Emma said too much. At the trial she made another slip of the tongue. And again her questioner was Mr. Knowlton.
Q. How long had you been in Fairhaven?
A. Just two weeks.
………………………………………………..
Q. And who was it that you was visiting?
A. Mrs. Brownell and her daughter.
………………………………………………..
Q. Had you seen Miss Lizzie during the two weeks?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. When?
A. Well, I can’t tell you what day it was; some few days after; she had been at Fairhaven.
Q: Was it Saturday?
A: No, Sir.
Q. Was it on her way over to or back from Marion?
(On Monday the 25th of July, Lizzie made a one-day trip to Marion. But Emma’s answer denies that it was then her sister went to Fairhaven.)
A. Oh, I do know. She went to New Bedford when I went to Fairhaven, and I think it was the Saturday following our going Thursday. (Refer to her answer above where she denies it was Saturday.)
In her inquest testimony Lizzie denied that she had visited Emma in Fairhaven. Officer Medley, who confirmed Lizzie’s visit with Mrs. Poole in New Bedford, was told that Lizzie had been always together with the family but for one and a half hours on the morning of Saturday the 23rd, i.e. on the day Emma testified that she thought she had seen Lizzie at Fairhaven. On that morning, the sisters seem to have seen one another but it could not have been in Fairhaven. Lizzie could not have visited her sister there in the one and a half hours she spent away from Mrs. Poole. So Emma must have come to New Bedford or to South Dartmouth.
What significance does this lie have? Or was it a lie? Could not Emma, who testified about eleven months after the event, have just made an honest mistake? It does not seem likely since she was so specific about the day and since it was her only trip in years. However, her information goes well with the assumption that Emma and Lizzie met with Uncle John and William Davis in the latter’s cottage at South Dartmouth, just a stone’s throw away from Mrs. Poole’s, to go over the murder plan one last time.
There is no doubt that all the events here discussed go very well with the assumption that Emma took part in the plot. But do they also go well with the assumption that Emma had nothing to do with the murders, that she in fact was innocent? Let’s review the events, one by one, and presume that she was innocent!
Her trip to Fairhaven was a very unusual thing for her to do. So far as we know, the last time she had possibly been away from home was in August 1890, almost two years prior to her trip to Fairhaven. So either it would seem that it was a coincidence that Emma chose this particular time to go when the conspirators were ready to strike or Lizzie prompted her to go by some means we don’t know about. The sum of it is that her trip, as such, does not say anything about her innocence or guilt.
Emma gave an explanation for her support of her sister at the trial. Even if Emma was innocent but knew or suspected that Lizzie was involved she might have lent her support, especially if after the murders she secretly approved of them. So her support of her sister does not necessarily say anything regarding her own innocence or guilt.
If she was innocent, Emma’s breakdown in front of a stranger (Maguire) is harder to understand. Not only to moan but also actually to howl indicates an agony out of the ordinary. A bad conscience that never let her have inner peace would account for it. Such a bad conscience would surely have emanated from her having known about and consented to the murders. It is doubtful if it could emanate from a tacit approval after the murders.
Her correction of her statement, “He is a very dear uncle of ours” to “of mine” is very telling. She replaces the truth with a lie and that is a deliberate act. It is difficult to imagine another motive for this than a wish to help her sister to distance herself from her uncle so that the authorities would not suspect conspiracy. Even if she suspected that Lizzie had done the deed and tacitly approved of the murders after the fact, she would probably not have known or suspected that her sister cooperated in these with her uncle. No one (but Mr. Fish and Mrs. Lovejoy) did in a hundred years. And in combination with her breakdown in front of Mr. Maguire in 1913, an approval after the murders does not seem to be a sufficient explanation.
However, there is room for an innocent, albeit far-fetched, explanation of Emma’s misstatement and correction of it at the inquest. Let us assume the following scenario: Lizzie and Uncle John are involved in the murders but Emma is not. Emma is totally innocent. On Monday, August 8, Uncle John returns to the house. He is very upset. He tells Lizzie that a reporter has confronted him with Mr. Fish’s theory that he and Lizzie had concocted the crime and had hired someone to kill Abby and Andrew. At this time Lizzie knew that she was a suspect. Mayor Coughlin had told her so. At bedtime, when the sisters are alone in their rooms, Lizzie says, “Emma Dear, you know that they suspect me of these horrible murders and soon they will think that Uncle John is also involved.” And she relates the episode her uncle had with the reporter. She continues, “We know that it is ridiculous in the extreme but soon there will be no telling where this may go. We talked about it, Uncle John and I, and we think it best to pretend that we don’t like each other, that, in fact, we hate each other. Emma Dearest, support us in this! It is enough with me but it is not fair that they should sling mud at Uncle John, too.” Emma is shocked and outraged. She promises her full support. From here on, Lizzie and Uncle John hate each other and have long done so.
However, Emma’s statement at the trial that she and Lizzie had met at Fairhaven is also very telling since it is obviously a lie. She had seen Lizzie, true, but in New Bedford or South Dartmouth, not in Fairhaven. It is difficult to reconcile this lie with the assumption of her innocence but it goes very well with the assumption of her guilt. If the conspirators met in New Bedford or at South Dartmouth to finalize the murder plan they would not have wanted to have their meeting known.
All in all, there can be no reasonable doubt that Emma took part in the conspiracy.
3.
THEY HIRED A KILLER TO DO THE WORK FOR THEM. THE NAME OF THE KILLER WAS WILLIAM A. DAVIS
In the afternoon of August 5, a reporter came out to the Davis’ lot at South Dartmouth to collect data on John Morse, who was then the prime suspect. He did not see William Davis but only his father Isaac Davis and one or two female relations. The reporter was told that there was a close relationship between William Davis and John Morse. Isaac said that there was no way Morse could have killed Andrew and Abby. He said Morse thought too highly of Andrew to do such a thing. Isaac concluded, “No sir, John V. Morse never committed that crime. It’s an awful mistake. Why, I would have trusted him with everything in the world, and would as soon think of my own son doing the deed.”
It seems like an irony of fate that old Mr. Davis emphasized his belief in the innocence of his long time friend John Morse by a comparison with the innocence of his own son William, if William was, indeed, the perpetrator.
John Morse and William Davis were close friends. It is very likely that Morse could approach William with the suggestion that William assume the role of the killer, without risking a betrayal. And he would probably have had a good idea of whether William would be willing. If Morse disclosed his plan to a stranger or to someone he did not know so well he would have run a great risk of betrayal or of inadvertent disclosure. In view of these circumstances, among other things, it is likely that William was the man and that the murders could not have been carried out in the way they were had William refused.
The killer had a problem. As a contemporary writer stated, there was no way the killer could have sprung a surprise attack on Mrs. Borden without leaving her time to scream for help. The topography of the guest room simply did not allow it, leaving no place to hide except under the bed, which was not possible for obvious reasons. So the killer must approach her quite openly without causing her alarm. Such an open approach would have demanded that the murderer was no stranger to his victim. Very likely William Davis was no stranger to Mrs. Borden, John Morse would have seen to that.
At the inquest John Morse stated that he had come to Fall River on Andrew’s request to discuss a man that Morse had found to take charge of one of Andrew’s farms. But at the pretrial Morse said that his purpose of going to the farm was to make arrangements to get a pair of oxen he bought from Andrew for William Davis. But let us take it all in chronological order:
According to Isaac Davis, he (Isaac or John Morse?) had for several weeks talked of purchasing a pair of cattle of Mr. Borden.
On August 4, the Fall River Herald published an interview with Mr. Morse. In this Morse said, “I had come to Fall River for one reason, to buy a pair of oxen for Butcher Davis, with whom I lived. ”
At the inquest, however, Morse said that he had, on Andrew’s request, gone to Fall River to see Andrew and discuss a man who would be suitable to take charge of one of Andrew’s farms. As proof of what he said, he handed over a letter from Andrew, dated July 25, to Mr. Knowlton.
At the preliminary hearing he was back at the cattle purchase again, at least as far as his going over the river to Swansea was concerned.
Now the question is: Was the intended purchase of cattle from Mr. Borden made up only to give Morse a reason to go to the farm to collect the eggs, thus preventing Mr. Eddy from delivering them on the next day (the murder day) at around eleven o’clock? If so, it would undoubtedly strengthen the suspicion that William Davis was involved in the murder plan. And it would possibly also implicate old Mr. Davis.
The distance between South Dartmouth and Andrew’s farm at Swansea was around twenty miles. One can wonder if there were not oxen to be had nearer the Davis’. It could hardly have been a question of price paid. Andrew was a reputed miser and would not be likely to have made a reduction in price. So why did William Davis choose to buy oxen from Andrew Borden?
John Morse and William Davis were close friends; we have old Mr. Davis’ word on that. With Lizzie’s help Morse could easily have arranged an “accidental” meeting between William and Abby, perhaps when Abby was shopping at the market or at the Borden home. Abby would then have known who William was and would not have been alarmed when, on the morning of August 4, he appeared before her, together with Lizzie, in his butcher’s outfit and holding a hatchet.
According to Officers Harrington and Doherty, John Morse mailed a letter to William Davis on Friday morning, August 5. What was in that letter we don’t know but we do know that on Sunday the 7th, Messrs. Davis and Howe came to visit Mr. Morse on Second Street [20], perhaps in response to a request made in that letter. If Davis and Howe were involved in the conspiracy, Morse may have felt the necessity of sharing the latest information and to go over the future strategy to be used.
As you can see, William Davis is a very good candidate for the murderer’s role in the plot but, of course, definite proof of this is lacking. All we can say for certain is that there was a killer who was not Lizzie or John Morse or Emma or Bridget Sullivan.
4.
THERE WAS YET ANOTHER MAN IN THE CONSPIRACY. HIS TASK WAS TO SPIRIT THE KILLER AWAY FROM THE MURDER SCENE AFTER THE MURDERS
Lizzie and her uncle conspired in this crime. They hired someone to do the job. However, there is compelling evidence, albeit not absolutely conclusive, that Emma was also involved in the plot.
Yet there may be another man involved. To add another man to the list would perhaps endanger the necessary secrecy but it would reduce the exposure of the killer when he left the premises after the completion of the deed. And if there was such a man it is not unlikely that his name was Howe. And there is a testimony to the fact that someone was there waiting. The proprietor of a livery stable on the west side of Second Street, Mark Chase, saw a horse and buggy parked outside the Borden home in the morning of August 4, at around eleven.
However, this fifth member of the conspiracy is not necessary for the successful execution of the crime. The killer could have walked away fetching his horse team from a livery stable in the vicinity or he could have taken the train if he was to go out of town.
5.
ANDREW BORDEN HAD SUBJECTED HIS DAUGHTERS TO INCEST
To back up this statement we have to rely on the three lecturers who presented the incest theory at the conference at the Bristol Community College in Fall River on August 3 – 5, 1992, namely Margaret Judge Grenier, M. Eileen McNamara, M.D., and Stephen W. Kane, Ph.D. Those three lecturers have analyzed what is known of the ambience in the Borden household and of the personality and attitudes of the four family members of that household and come to the conclusion that they show the classic symptoms of incest. Their reasoning is difficult to penetrate and understand, having never studied this field myself. This does not mean, however, that their conclusions are not correct.
Even a layman can see that the conditions in the Borden household were far from normal.
Andrew was domineering. His preferences set the rules in the family with no consideration for the wishes of the other family members. He wanted to stay on Second Street so they stayed on Second Street. He did not want modernization so they would have to be content with what little comfort that they had. He had no wish to socialize so there was no general entertainment in the house.
Abby submitted to the contempt and hatred of her stepdaughters and did not know how to retaliate. She compensated by eating too much and by occasional visits to her half-sister, Sarah Whitehead.
Emma was almost invisible. She seldom stirred out of the house and seemed to have had only one intimate friend, Alice Russell.
Lizzie was stubborn and aggressive like her father. By engaging in church work she broke free from the family restriction. She was a kleptomaniac and seems to have developed lesbian tendencies.
The above picture shows that there was something fundamentally wrong in the family and the answer may well have been incest, just as those three lecturers say.
However, there are a few things that put the incest theory in doubt. In 1890 Lizzie made the grand tour to Europe. And Emma said the following at the inquest:
Q: Have you ever lived away from home?
A: I was away at school about a year and a half.
Q: That was sometime ago? [Emma was 41 when she testified.]
A: Yes Sir.
Would Mr. Borden have allowed his daughters to go away, out of his control, if he had subjected them to incest? Would he not have feared that they might betray to others what was going on at home? Maybe, and maybe not. It is a fact that many if not most, incest victims have strong feelings of shame and guilt. They feel that they are to blame for what is happening to them and they are terrified that the outside world will know about it. Andrew may well have perceived and encouraged these feeling in his daughters and therefore was confident that they would not tell. He may have considered his daughters his property to do with as he pleased. And as far as Emma’s year and a half at a boarding school is concerned, if her leaving home took place shortly after Andrew’s second marriage, his new wife may have learned what was going on and insisted that Emma be sent away.
Well, as you can see, the possibilities may be endless but the whole thing boils down to this: Do you, or do you not believe in the opinion of the three researchers? For myself, I am inclined to believe them.
6.
ANDREW BORDEN PLANNED TO MORE OR LESS DISINHERIT HIS DAUGHTERS IN FAVOUR OF HIS WIFE. THE KNOWLEDGE OF THIS PROMPTED THE MURDERS
After the murders there were newspaper articles saying that there were, shortly before the murders, frequent journeys between the Dartmouth cottage and Second Street and it looked as if considerable business was being transacted. According to the articles, Mr. Morse had learned that Mr. Borden was planning to make a will leaving the daughters with $25,000 each and let Mrs. Borden have the rest and he informed the daughters of their father’s intention [21]. If there were substance in what the articles said, it would constitute what Lizzie and Emma probably would have felt to be a compelling motive for the murders.
CONCLUSION
Were there or were there not acts of incest going on in the Borden family? Margaret Judge Grenier, Mary Eileen McNamara, M.D., and Stephen Kane, Ph.D., think there were. At least two of them seem to have applied recognized scientific methods in their research and all three of them seem confident in their conclusions. But their conclusions are based on their assumptions regarding the family situation and the disposition and reaction of its members. Those assumptions coincide with what is generally believed to be true, but the family members, and those who knew them, did not say very much on the subject and there is, consequently, a possibility that misinterpretations have been made. If there were no incestuous relationships in the family a large portion of my reconstruction as stated above, will still stand.
There are two indisputable facts that are consistent with the assumption of acts of incest. First, we know that Lizzie gave her father her gold ring when she was a young girl, and that he always wore it. I think that is a very unusual thing for a young girl (as well as for a father) to do. A ring is a gift of love, not between father and daughter, but between lovers. Secondly, the sisters exchanged rooms—an event that seems to have occurred not long after Lizzie’s return from Europe. For eighteen years, Emma’s room had been the larger one and Lizzie´s the smaller one. And so, out of the blue, they decide to change rooms! Why? Was it because of some sense of fairness? “Oh Lizzie, I have had this room for eighteen years. Now it is your turn. In 1908 we will change them back again.” Does that sound plausible? No, something must have occurred that prompted the change and I think my explanation is one that makes sense.
But the main point in this essay is the indisputable proof that Lizzie and her uncle conspired to kill Andrew and Abby Borden and that they brought a killer in who did the job for them. This is the core of my theory and that will not fail! A conspiracy such as has been outlined in this essay is the only explanation that fits the evidence and the only one that wipes out all the difficulties Lizzie, as the perpetrator, would have faced, without an outside agent. The conspiracy theory is the only theory that explains how these murders could have been, and were, successfully accomplished.
Footnotes
1 Fritz Adilz, “An Armchair Solution to the Borden Mystery,” Lizzie Borden Quarterly II.3 (Summer 1994): 11-12; “An Armchair Solution to the Borden Mystery,” Lizzie Borden Quarterly II.4/5 (Fall/Winter 1995): 12-13; “An Armchair Solution to the Borden Mystery,” Lizzie Borden Quarterly II.6 (Winter 1995): 4-6; “An Armchair Solution to the Borden Mystery,” Lizzie Borden Quarterly III.1 (January 1996): 7-10, 14-15; “An Armchair Solution to the Borden Mystery,” Lizzie Borden Quarterly III.2 (April 1996): 6-8; “An Armchair Solution to the Borden Mystery: Some Clarifications and Modifications—Part One,” Lizzie Borden Quarterly IV.2 (April 1997): 10-14; “An Armchair Solution to the Borden Mystery: Some Clarifications and Modifications—Conclusion,” Lizzie Borden Quarterly IV.3 (July 1997): 10-14; “Why Did He Go There?” Lizzie Borden Quarterly VII.3 (July 2000): 8-9, 22.
2 Lizzie Borden, Did She or Didn’t She? As Recorded in the Historic Pages of The Evening Standard, New Bedford, Mass. 1892-1893, August 18, 1892, page 2, col 6.
3 Edmund Pearson, The Trial of Lizzie Borden (NY: Doubleday Doran & Company, 1937), 237 and footnote #5.
4 I am perfectly aware of the fact that Emma testified at the trial that the change had taken place shortly after Lizzie’s return from Europe and on her own (Emma’s) initiative. However, it is very unlikely that Emma would have said otherwise, even if Lizzie had actually made the suggestion. Emma would not have wanted to create a suspicion in the minds of the jury, that her sister had ”bullied” her into giving up her own larger room.
5 Andrew Borden died intestate. Before his death he told the manager of the A. J. Borden building Mr. Charles C. Cook that he had too long postponed drawing up a will. So it would seem that he never got around to doing it after all.
6 As everybody understands, the motive of the burglary, as indicated above, is pure speculation on my part. I find it plausible that they would have wanted some kind of “dress rehearsal,” if such a one could be arranged. The burglary would also indicate that there might be an outside enemy to the elderly couple. There are things speaking against the assumption that the burglary had anything to do with the murders. If it had, the conspirators would not have wanted to remind the police of it in any way, since the police had concluded that it was an inside affair. And yet, Lizzie alluded to the burglary twice, once to Alice Russell on the eve of the murders and once to Hiram Harrington in his interview with her after the murders. If it was important that the police should make no connection between the burglary and the murders, would she have done that? Maybe and maybe not. Lizzie does not seem to have been a very cautious person. But it is, of course, possible that the burglary was committed out of spite and had nothing to do with the murders.
7 The Commonwealth of Massachusetts vs. Lizzie A Borden, The Knowlton Papers, 1892-1893 (Fall River: Fall River Historical Society, 1994), 94. The lawyer’s name was Franklin P. Owen.
8 Mr. Thomas Dahlén, student’s advisor at the astronomic faculty of the Stockholm University, informed me that in 1892, August 8 saw a full moon.
9 Originally I had thought that Davis had been admitted through the front entry. My only reason for this was the fact that the front door was the entrance closest to the guest room, where Davis undoubtedly would spend the night. However, since there was a bright moonlight on the night preceding the murders, Morse and Lizzie would not have dared to let Davis enter the house through the front door. If a neighbor with a sleeping problem had happened to look out his window at the wrong moment he could have seen a stranger letting himself in through the front door. If he later reported what he had seen, the police would know for sure that the murderer had assistance from someone inside the house and the game would be up. The same would go for the kitchen door. Even if the risk that someone would see Davis enter the house and report his observation to the police was small, it was there, and I don’t think Morse and Lizzie would have taken the chance. The same risk did not apply to the cellar door. If the police were told that a stranger had opened the cellar door, they would assume that someone, presumably Bridget, had forgotten to fasten it after last using it. The only risk would be that the observer reported his observation to the police at once and that the police decided to make a night call, but in that case Morse would say that his friend had missed the train and had thrown a stone at his window. The murders would then have had to be postponed, but, although bad enough, that would be all. But in all likelihood no one would see Davis enter or if they did, they would just go back to bed. If so, that observation, later reported to the police, would rather be to the conspirators’ advantage since they were eager to create the impression that an outsider had indeed entered the house and committed the murders.
10 After his return from Swansea the previous evening, while chatting in the sitting room with Abby and Andrew, John Morse may have paved the way saying: “Darn, I bought myself a hatchet today but I think I left it in the buggy. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” Also, Morse arrived in Fall River by electric car and train. He did not use his own horse team, which has amazed some of those familiar with the case. The explanation now seems clear—by leaving his horse team at home he had to hire a horse team in Fall River to go out to Swansea. That gave him the opportunity to “forget” his “newly bought” hatchet in the hired team and thus gave William Davis a good reason, in the eyes of Abby, to go to her home in order to bring the hatchet back to Morse. If he had used his own team, he could not have pulled this stunt.
11 In her husband’s case there was a cluster of 86 blood drops forming the arc of a circle on the wall above his head, indicating that there was normal pressure in his blood stream when he was hit. In other words, Andrew was alive when he was first hit. In Abby’s case, there were undoubtedly blood spots on the wall, on the dresser, on the bedspread and so on. but nothing that could not be explained by blood falling off the swinging hatchet. There were no signs of gushes or spurts and the lack of it is a sure sign that she was already dead when she lay on the floor and the hatchet crashed down on her head. Under her body there was a large amount of blood caused by the serious damage to her head.
12 Actually the sale at Sargent’s did not start on the 4th but only on the 5th of August. The Fall River Evening News of August 4, 1892 advertised the following under the heading of “Local Business notes:” “Tomorrow Frank E. Sargent Co. will clear out a big lot of 15 cent Bedford cords, 20 cent Scotch gingham, <illegible> ginghams and pine apple tissues at 73/4 cents. A rush is expected.” It looks as if Lizzie resorted to a lie in her endeavor to get Bridget out of the house.
13 The dress she wore was probably the same that she burned on Sunday, August 7. The reason she burned it was, in all likelihood, that she feared that there might be some very small blood drops on it which had escaped her notice but which would be seen under a microscope.
14 At the trial Doctor Bowen’s wife, Phoebe Bowen, testified that Lizzie’s hands rested in her lap when Phoebe saw her sitting in the kitchen shortly after the murders. Lizzie’s hands looked white and clean.
15 New Bedford Evening Standard, August 18, 1892, page 2, col. 6. The Globe carried a similar article on August 17, 1892.
16 New Bedford Evening Standard, August 5 1892, page 7, col. 4.
17 Victoria Lincoln, A Private Disgrace: Lizzie Borden by Daylight (NY: GP Putnam’s Sons, 1967), 65.
18 New Bedford Evening Standard, August 9 1892, page 8, col. 5.
19 Frank Spiering, Lizzie: The Story of Lizzie Borden (NY: Random House, 1984), 215.
20 New Bedford Evening Standard, August 8, 1892, page 2, col. 7.
21 New Bedford Evening Standard, August 18, 1892, page 2, col. 6. See also The Globe, August 18, 1892.
Michael Shogi
Glen Carlson
Annette Holba