| Borden house at Fall River. Abby Borden (right). Andrew Borden (left). |
You’re almost asleep when the mattress dips
like someone just sat down. And now you’re wide awake, in the bedroom where
Abby Borden was hacked to death.
Welcome to the Lizzie Borden House. Hope you
weren’t counting on getting much sleep.
Some guests at the Fall River home say they’ve
felt something settle onto the bed. Others have heard a woman’s voice close to
their ear, or felt someone tucking them in.
Tucked in sounds nice until you think about who’s
doing the tucking. You’d probably like to meet them before they start handling
your blankets.
Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d rather
keep your eyes shut and pretend this was somebody else’s terrible vacation idea.
The place looks harmless enough from the street.
Just an ordinary house on an ordinary street. One you could walk past without
giving it a second thought.
Inside, it’s a different story. A woman died by a bed upstairs. Her husband died on a sofa downstairs.
And tonight, you’ve brought your pajamas.
On August 4, 1892. Abby Borden was attacked in the upstairs guest room. Andrew Borden was killed later that morning while lying on the sitting-room couch.
Lizzie got the blame. You probably learned her
name from that nasty little rhyme before you knew where Massachusetts was.
Forty whacks. Playground justice, complete with a
tune you can’t get out of your head.
The jury didn’t buy the prosecution’s case. Lizzie
was acquitted in June 1893. Two people were dead, and the biggest question in
the house remained unanswered.
Who did it? Try taking that question upstairs with
you.
The room where Abby died is called the John V.
Morse Room. Lizzie’s uncle slept there the night before the murder.
During the day, spending the night there might
sound like a great idea. Something to tell your friends about.
Then you get into bed. And doubts start creeping
in.
Some visitors believe Abby still comes around. A
presence beside the bed. A woman’s voice where there shouldn’t be one.
Of course, they’re just stories. Nobody’s
proved Abby is making midnight rounds. Remembering that ought to help when
you’re staring into a dark corner.
Then again, your brain may have other plans.
Some guests have reported footsteps and a loud
male voice outside a bedroom. One account describes coins moving on a dresser.
Now comes the argument inside your head. Look
around. Stay put. Get the hell out of there
You could turn on the light. Or call out. Both
involve admitting you heard something, and somehow that makes it worse.
And the murder room isn’t everybody’s pick for the
scariest spot.
Guide Larry LoVerde told a public-radio reporter
that the basement and the so-called children’s room were especially active.
Overnight guests have been known to pack up and leave before morning.
LoVerde also mentioned the nighttime guides’
claims of unexplained scratches and an infrared image resembling a small child.
A visiting reporter felt chills but admitted the sounds could’ve been other
people moving around the house. That’s the sensible explanation.
Pick the one that helps you sleep. Just understand
that an unfamiliar noise sounds different when you know someone was murdered
upstairs.
That’s where the house gets you. You know what
happened there. How close everything is.
The stairs are right there. So is the bedroom.
Downstairs is the spot where Andrew took the axe.
There’s no long distance between you and the bad
part. You’re already in it.
Maybe you’ll hear nothing. Maybe you’ll sleep
straight through and wake up feeling foolish about the whole thing.
But suppose that just before you drift off, the
blankets tighten around your feet. Or you hear a whisper by your pillow,
Would you stay the night?
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