Lizzie Borden Society Forum

"Its 6:30 in the morning. Why do they get up so damned early every day? Can't just for once they sleep in til...I don't know...seven? Would that be the end of the world? And Uncle Morse too. What a crowd! What an exciting, unpredictable young and just lively bunch we all are! Why didn't I just stay at the hotel? There was that other guest there, in the blue and lavender. Smelled like lilacs. Had lovely eyes and a sweet smile. There goes Bridget ou to the barn, what time did she get in last night I wonder? What a state when the help has a more active social life than the lady of the house. I'm going back to sleep. Its too hot to eat, and I still feel crampy. Mabe I'll go back to Marion. Mabe not. At least there's a breeze there. What's that cooking? And Abby, whispering again! What are they TALKING about? I wish Morse would find another place to stay. If I have to listen to that whispering again...I don't know. What's that cooking? That damned mutton again? Good God, if I have to watch them slurping that down again...I just don't know what I'll do"

I was drifting around my kitchen this anniversary morning, getting ready for the day and wondering about the sounds of 92 Second Street. Did the Bordens have those distinctive South Massachusetts accents? Did Mrs. Borden call Mr. Borden "Andrew?" Were the Bordens and Uncle John at all quiet at their meal in deference to the still-sleeping Lizzie? There's so much we'll never know.

Jay just called and asked "Is he dead yet?" It's 11:50 here. "Yes," I said. "He's dead."

Thanks, Kash, that was cool.

I know just what you mean, Bob. As I've been getting ready for work this morning I keep finding myself wondering about the Borden's day to day life. I look at the clocks and think about what is happening at certain time landmarks. Its 8:55 AM here right now, in 5 minutes or so, Abby will be going up to the guest room to meet her doom. What is she thinking about? Does she hum a tune under her breath as she goes about her household duties? Is she looking forward to a lunch she will never have with their overnight houseguest or dreading it?

I've also been wondering about Emma. Did she know in advance that something was up? Was she railroaded out of the house with intent or just happened to decide to visit Fairhaven? Did she wake this morning with something hanging over her that she just couldn't shake? What was her thoughts as she was handed a telegram late in the morning, dread, elation, wonder at receiving a telegram ever?

We've just taken the pictures (we're running late) and are autopsying now. It's 3:56. I hope I remember later where I put these notes!
It's so close in here and so many people, no respect for the dead.

Like Emma's, my vacation ended today. It took us less time to get home than she did, though. Except instead of traveling 15 miles from Fairhaven to Fall River, we traveled 173 miles from Orford, New Hampshire, to Fairhaven. We got home at 2:30 p.m. Of course Emma didn't have Rte. 93.

Wow! I was wondering what kind of day you had!
Didn't know you were gone tho.
Welcome back this day.

Tis the day after, and Mr. Morse is comin' to get me soon. I spent the night across the street with the Bowen's work girl, and glad I was of the invitation. Not that any of us slept, tho. Doctorr Bowen and his wife, they was talkin' in their room a good parrt of the night. Mrs. Bowen was cryin' some. She liked Mrs. Borrden. Mister Millerr, he won't say nothin', at least within my earshot. But the household was tense and awake. Nobody here asked me ennything, and I was relieved. I felt as if I had been dragged thru the mud down the middle of an empty potato field. Somebody put a heavy piece of furrniture cross the front door for the night. An' I suppose 'twill be like that every night until the one who did it - the, the "murderer" is caught. "Murdererr". I don't think I ever used the worrd in my life. I can't for the life of me imagine who 'twas, and I don't care to think about it. I do wonderr, tho, why Miss Lizzie talked Mrs. Borrden into having me wash the windows yesterrday. And why she was up in the barrn, when she hadn't been a good three months. ... I should go down for breakfast now. I didn't have to cook it forr a change. Despite the excitement about, I am lookin' forward to the mornin' meal. It's sure to be a change from the mutton at the Borrdens.

Welcome home, Fairhaven! It's just as well they didn't have Rt. 93: Andrew would have balked at the tolls--what did you have, 2 or 3? And 75 cents now instead of 50. Andrew would have been taking the back roads. You'd have known him by his speed (40 mph) and the fact that his left hand turn signal was going all the way, consarn it!

(I enjoyed everyone's take on the anniversary, BTW!)

--Lyddie

Lyddie,

We paid 75 cents each way. Your post makes me wonder if Andrew had to pay a toll or ferry fare to get to the farm in Swansea. Until 1870 the New Bedford-Fairhaven Bridge was a toll bridge, with the price varying depending on how many animals and wheels a vehicle had. One even had to pay to walk across. Besides the ferry or bridge toll, the Bordens would have to have hired a rig to get over after they got rid of their horse. I bet Andrew didn't reimburse John Morse for his trip to get the eggs. . .

Hey, Fairhaven! Only one toll! I didn't think about the fact that you probably weren't taking Rte. 3 to 93. Toll for foot traffic, huh? No wonder Andrew opted to stay in town instead of Swansea.

--Lyddie

August 9th

I don't know if I can abide much more of this, it is making me sick! To-day I was brought by carriage to the Inquest and answered ever so many questions that I don't know one thing from another. And that man! Why, he thinks I did it, he thinks that I killed father! The way he looks at me, the way he puts questions to me, he is no gentleman, he is a good for nothing old thing, thats what he is! Doesn't he know who I am? Doesn't he know who my father is? He would not talk to me in such a manner if he did! Why, they wouldn't even let me have legal counsel! All I wanted was Mr. Jennings to sit in during the questioning to make sure what I said was as it should be and they wouldn't even let me do that! Lord, that horrible man, I have to be questioned by him again! O, but he will see, he will see that I will not give in one inch, no matter what! Where is Dr. Bowen? I need my medicine, all this is giving me a sick headache and I shan't sleep a wink tonight without it.