The Trial of Lizzie Borden(39)
Robinson pushed her about other seeming contradictions: earlier she had not been sure she had hooked the screen door at the side of the house and now said she did. If the door was not locked at all times, then it was just possible that an outside assailant could have made fortuitous use of it. Elizabeth Jordan remarked that “one by one [the prosecution] have bolted every door of the house and left every avenue of approach to the house impeded,” but Bridget “left that door open.” And Bridget admitted—again under pressure from Robinson—that she would not necessarily have seen this hypothetical person enter the house. Robinson inquired: “You were really honestly at work, of course? . . . You were not on the watch looking out for people?” Having gained a theoretical opening for a mystery outsider, Robinson returned to the absence of blood on the defendant, extremity by extremity, and even elicited Bridget’s assurance that Lizzie’s hair was in order. During this intense phase of the cross-examination, Bridget “mopped the perspiration from her face.” Julian Ralph commented: “[Robinson] is very courtly and winning to a woman witness until he lands her where he wants her, and then, if it suits him, he becomes as stern as a pirate. He is as confidential and chatty as a gossip, and his witness becomes very desirous of pleasing him and is easily led into a trap. Then his manner changes, and he makes short work of letting the witness know he has him captive.” Robinson’s tactics led the New York Times to conclude: “He is going to make a more bitter fight against the Commonwealth than he ever engaged in, and every movement of the enemy will be met as far as possible with counter efforts of the most brilliant nature.”
On redirect examination, Moody returned to Lizzie’s blue dress on the day of the murders. Everyone agreed she had changed into a pink wrapper in the afternoon. The question was her morning attire. Robinson had, after a fashion, muddied the description—one blue dress was much like any other—claiming, “It was a man’s mistake.” Moody sought to clarify that the dress Lizzie had been wearing that morning was the blue dress made the prior spring with a dark blue figure on a lighter blue background.
At 4:55 p.m., Bridget Sullivan’s travail ended. Howard concluded: “The cross-examination of Gov. Robinson was merciless and exhaustive, but as Bridget unquestionably told the truth so far as she told at all, nothing was made against her, nor could it be said that her testimony was especially damaging to the cause of the defense.” The New Bedford Evening Journal pronounced her an admirable witness: “She was willing to tell what she knew, so far as it was brought out by concrete questions. She was neither eager nor reluctant.” She emerged, therefore, from “the whole ordeal unscathed.” Lizzie Borden’s ordeal, on the other hand, was just beginning.
Chapter 6
UNDER FIRE
Makeshift gate in front of courthouse, Boston Globe
Reflecting on the first week, Julian Ralph of the Sun praised the Borden trial as “one of the smoothest and fairest” he had attended: “The discipline of the court is almost perfect, and the spectators feel it and keep constant good order. Beyond a buzz of astonishment or a snicker when the general sense of humor is aroused the room is uniformly quiet. The large body of reporters, hard at work, with a troop of boys running with dispatches, conduct the work noiselessly. The people whisper furtively. The public respect for the court is great and marked.” Joe Howard lauded the judges and the rest of the courtroom officials for their “urbanity and dignity.” In the rest of the building, the atmosphere resembled “the bustle of a mill or the stock exchange”: One room housed the busy stenographers who dictated their notes to the pool of “pert and pretty” young women typists. Other rooms served as the waiting area for witnesses. Another was reserved for the district attorneys and also contained the trial exhibits. In the halls, policemen and “under sheriffs in blue coats with brass buttons stand all about the hall, while messenger and newspaper boys dash in and out.” Outside, the scene was more chaotic. The police erected a makeshift gate, consisting of rope strung between the courthouse pillars, to block the entrance to the courthouse. By the end of the first week, carpenters were at work on a proper wooden barrier. Elizabeth Jordan took special note of the dogged persistence of female would-be spectators: “Those who were not fortunate enough to gain admission hover about the neighborhood all morning, to be first in line for the opening in the afternoon. They bring cruilers [sic] and cookies and other New England food atrocities in their pockets, and actually camp out and lunch on the scene of battle.” Some wandered over to the neighboring houses and had their picnics on the verandas or front stoops. Irritated residents of the neighborhood had little recourse but to post specially printed signs warning the invaders to “keep off the steps.”
THURSDAY, JUNE 8, 1893
* * *
On Thursday, the heat abated. One paper simply announced, “Prayers have been answered.” Another clarified that “the air of the court was not as cool as that of a shady dell . . . but there was a comparative degree of comfort when contrasted with that of the opening.” Some speculated that might account for an upsurge in people queueing for seats in the courtroom. A reporter for the New Bedford Evening Journal, however, had a different theory: “A great many early breakfasts were taken in New Bedford this morning judging from the time when the people curious to witness the trial begun [sic] to arrive on the spot. This was because of the rumors that some of the medical men would be put on the stand today, and that the ghastly exhibits would be brought into view.” As it happened, the rumor mill was mistaken. The prosecutors called a series of witnesses who had been on the scene shortly after the murders and could give firsthand observations of Lizzie Borden’s actions and demeanor in the immediate aftermath of the crimes. Lizzie Borden herself was viewed as a barometer: there was a “hectic flush upon her face this morning, notably about the eyes, but she had the same calm, unimpassioned look.” The same could not be said for the women in the audience. Howard approvingly noted the presence of “two or three very pretty girls” but complained that “a large majority were vinegar faced, sharp-nosed, lean-visaged and extremely spare.”