This was originally published in “The Hatchet: The Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.”

“Lizzie Borden Had a Secret, Mr. Borden Discovered It Then A Quarrel” was the
October 10, 1892 headline of the Fall River Globe. The supposed “secret” was
one that would have been most damning in that era: the unmarried 32-year-old
was pregnant.

By October 12th, the story had miscarried and the Boston Globe published an
apology. An unscrupulous detective named Edwin G. McHenry had tricked a
reporter with the unfortunate name Henry G. Trickey into believing that Lizzie
was “in trouble.” McHenry had fabricated the entire tale.

There was indeed no pregnancy. However, the false accusation leads to an
obvious question: Did Lizzie have a love life? While women of that time were
expected to be chaste, that is, sexually inexperienced until marriage, they
were not necessarily expected to be without romances. It would have been
perfectly acceptable for a single woman to have gentlemen callers, albeit
closely chaperoned. Despite the stigma attached to non-married sexual
relationships in the Victorian era, there were women who had actual sexual
liaisons. However, neither Lizzie nor Emma Borden is known with certainty to
have ever had a suitor.

There are few women so repulsive that they cannot attract men. An article in
the Boston Daily Globe on August 6, 1892 stated, “While not handsome, Miss
Lizzie is decidedly attractive in appearance. She would impress one as
belonging to a well-bred and well-reared family.” That same article continues
that Emma’s “appearance is not so attractive. She is similar in stature, of
slight figure and her features are less regular.” Discussing the personalities
of the two middle-aged and unwed sisters, the piece elaborates: “Miss Emma
looks precisely what she is by reputation, quiet and even timid in manner,
wholly inoffensive, with manifest good nature, but no end of diffidence. She
materially differs from Lizzie who is self-possessed, deliberate and confident
in all her actions.”

It seems unlikely that an “attractive” and “confident” woman would never have
garnered romantic attention. However, articles published in the aftermath of
the murders suggest that neither Lizzie, nor her less attractive sister, were
receptive to such attentions. The New York Herald of August 7,1892 wrote of
Lizzie, “she has avoided the company of young men.”

Nevertheless, there have been suggestions that Lizzie did have a love life. In
the mid-1980s, Ruby Frances Cameron publicly announced that she believed a man
named David Anthony committed the Borden murders, and further claimed that he
did so because he wanted to marry Lizzie.

David Anthony was not a phantom. According to Leonard Rebello in Lizzie Borden
Past & Present, Anthony lived in Fall River. Rebello writes that Anthony was
born in 1870 but puts a question mark after the year to indicate uncertainty
about it. If that was when he was born, it would have made him 22 in 1892 to
Lizzie?s 32. That gap would hardly preclude a romantic attraction or
relationship. Anthony resided in Fall River throughout his life until he was in
a motorcycle accident close to the Durfee Farm in South Somerset on November
25, 1924. He suffered a broken skull and died December 4, 1924.

Cameron’s claim that David Anthony murdered Abby and Andrew Borden because
Anthony wanted to marry Lizzie is certainly intriguing. It indicates that
Andrew (and perhaps Abby as well) was opposed to the union and that Anthony
thought he would be able to marry the woman of his dreams if he eliminated the
father and stepmother. However, this leaves open the question of why, once the
obstacles to wedded bliss were out of the way, and once Lizzie was acquitted,
the two of them did not in fact marry. Perhaps David Anthony at that point
realized that he would draw suspicion to himself if he wed Lizzie. It would
also be possible that Andrew and Abby were not the real obstacles to the
marriage. Maybe Anthony thought Lizzie would not marry him because of parental
opposition when the real reason was that she simply did not want to marry him.

“The Conspiracy with Hyman Lubinsky,” an article I wrote that was published in
the February 2006 issue of The Hatchet, discussed the theory of one David
Dickerson that Lubinsky and Lizzie had a romantic or sexual relationship of
some sort. Dickerson also postulated that Lubinsky and Lizzie conspired in the
crime. Lubinsky would have been either 16 or 18 (accounts differ as to his age)
to Lizzie?s 32. While the age difference would work against the probability of
an amorous relationship, it might also mean that if one existed it would be
extra powerful for both parties. The feelings of the young man might be
especially strong because of an Oedipal complex (even though the time period
was a bit before Freud would popularize the term). The feelings of the older
woman would be exaggerated because amorous sensations might mingle with a
thwarted maternalism.

Several years after Lizzie?s acquittal, on December 11, 1896, the Boston Globe
ran an article entitled “To Marry A School Teacher.” It was sub-headlined, “Reported Engagement of Miss Lizzie Borden and Orin [sic] T. Gardner of Swansea,
a Fall River Suburb.” The article went on to describe Mr. Gardner as thirty
years old and the member of a family that had long lived in New England but was
not economically advantaged.

The Boston Globe piece claimed that Lizzie had spent several weeks visiting the
Gardner family and that a romance with Orrin, who had been a childhood friend
of hers, apparently blossomed during that lengthy visit. The article goes on to
say that Miss Lizzie was having an expensive trousseau prepared, that the
couple would marry around Christmas, and that they planned a honeymoon in
Europe.

The second paragraph of the article relates, “It is said that preparations for
the wedding were made so quietly that only the most intimate acquaintances of
Miss Borden were cognizant of the facts, while the public was until yesterday
in ignorance of the approaching event.”

No wedding ever took place and it appears that the “facts” of the romance and
planned nuptials may well have been as fictional as Lizzie?s pre-murders
pregnancy.

However, it is likely Lizzie and Orrin knew each other since they were cousins.
According to The Knowlton Papers, “[Orrin] was summoned as a witness but was
not called upon to testify.”

Edwin Radin revealed an epistle written by Lizzie and dated December 12, 1896,
the day after the above story was published in the Boston Globe. Radin speaks
for this writer of Whittlings and many other authors when he notes, “Lizzie
Borden had, from a researcher?s viewpoint, an irritating habit of starting all
her letters with the salutation, ‘My dear Friend,’ thus making it impossible to
identify the person to whom it was written.”

That letter follows:

My Dear Friend,
I am more sorry than I can tell you that you have had any trouble over the
false and silly story that has been about the last week or so. How or when it
started I have not the least idea. But never for a moment did I think you or
your girls started it. Of course I am feeling very badly about it but I must
just bear as I have in the past. I do hope you will not be annoyed again. Take
care of yourself, so you can get well.

Yours sincerely,
L.A. Borden

Although it is impossible to know with certainty, it seems reasonable to
believe that the “false and silly” story referred to is that of her supposed
engagement. Who is the Dear Friend? The Hatchet published my Whittling taking
Frank Spiering to task for playing fast and loose with the facts and focused on
his book Lizzie. However, in this one instance, it appears he was probably
right in believing this letter was penned to a dressmaker.

Other evidence would surface indicating that Lizzie may have enjoyed a romance
with a man who worked for both her and her sister. In Lizzie Borden Past &
Present, Leonard Rebello reports that one reason Emma eventually left
Maplecroft was that she “objected to the coachman, Joseph Tetrault, a former
barber, known to have been a fine looking man and very popular among the
ladies. He was dismissed as coachman and returned to his former trade. Lizzie
later rehired him.”

These facts have several intriguing implications. They suggest that Lizzie may
have been enamored of Tetrault. Why would he have been dismissed? Perhaps
Lizzie bowed to Emma?s wishes in ridding the premises of someone Emma saw as a
bad influence. Then again, it is tempting to speculate that an enamored Lizzie
may have become jealous of Tetrault for some reason and fired him but hired him
back because she missed him.

Ann Jones in Women Who Kill claims that “in suggestive Freudian scripts” Lizzie
is said to have “a taboo yen for Andrew himself.” Jones continues, “In one such
tale she nerves herself for murder by imagining herself in the ‘hungry arms’ of
her forbidden suitor, ‘his full lips seeking and finding her quivering mouth.’”
Here Jones appears to be imagining things herself. Her quotes about “hungry
arms” and Lizzie’s fantasizing about “his full lips seeking and finding her
quivering mouth” are from Lizzie Borden: A Study in Conjecture by Marie Belloc
Lowndes. This book is not a “study” but a novel in which characters and
incidents are freely invented. However, it never suggests that Lizzie was
filled with an Oedipal yearning for Andrew. In the novel, Lizzie has a suitor
and it is of him, not her father, that she daydreams while steeling herself for
the crime.

It has also been suggested that Lizzie had intimate relations with other women.
Evan Hunter’s novel, Lizzie, spins a scenario in which Abby Borden catches
Lizzie in a very warm embrace with Bridget Sullivan. Abby recoils with horror
from the sight, calling Lizzie an “unnatural thing.” Then Lizzie bludgeons Abby
to death with a candlestick holder. Andrew is killed to cover up the first
homicide.

Hunter states that Lizzie?s possible foray into lesbianism should be taken as
part of the fiction although it is not lacking in historical basis. As David
Gates wrote in a Newsweek article, “There were rumors during Lizzie?s own
lifetime that she was a lesbian: she was once named as correspondent by a man
suing his wife for divorce.”

The latter information probably comes from Agnes deMille?s book, Lizzie Borden,
A Dance of Death. However, that source claims that the judge in the case “dismissed the charge as frivolous.” Rebello states in a note that, “No
information could be found to support the claim made in Miss deMille?s book,”
and nothing could substantiate the claim that a husband had named Lizzie Borden
as correspondent, or even that a jurist found the claim lacking in merit.

Writing in The Girl in the House of Hate (1953) — the title reflects an era in
which a 32-year-old female could still be considered a “girl” — Charles and
Louise Samuels assert that Lizzie was indeed a lesbian, at least in
inclinations, if not in actions. Here again, the basis for the claim is weak.
They write that “she had few friends, and all of these were either women or
preachers.” Unfortunately, they fail to note that a respectable woman of her
class could not easily make “friends” with men unless they were men of the
cloth and therefore unlikely to damage her reputation with a close association.
They go on to state, “People who knew Lizzie said she was so domineering that
she couldn?t endure most men and liked women better because she could ‘boss
them around.’” The Samuels appear to conclude that any woman of dominant
disposition must be lesbian even if repressed. A further sentence reads, “The
truth is that Lizzie A. Borden was definitely a Lesbian type, though it is to
be doubted that she ever actually had love relations with another woman.” The
Samuels’s “truth” should have been more honestly labeled the speculation that it
was.

Frank Spiering in Lizzie claimed that a letter Lizzie wrote dated “August
twenty second 1897” was penned “to a young woman.” However, the salutation “My
dear Friend” could be to someone of either sex. Still, this letter is
significant as it contains a statement that could easily be interpreted as
indicating amorous interest (although whether heterosexual or homosexual cannot
be determined). The letter says, “I dreamed of you the other night but I do not
dare to put my dreams on paper.” The phrase “do not dare” about a dream that
Lizzie cannot write about strongly implies a romantic or sexual dream. A
sentence that follows states, “Every time we pass your corner the pony wants to
turn down.” The last statement implies intense affection.

The most persistent speculation about a romantic and/or sexual relationship
between Lizzie and another woman revolves around her friendship with actress
Nance O’Neil.

Nance O’Neil had been born Gertrude Lamsom in Oakland, California on October 8,
1874. Photographs of Nance O’Neil show a tall, slender but shapely woman with
delicate features on a lovely face.

According to an article by Minna Littmann, quoted in an article by Robert A.
Flynn for the Lizzie Borden Quarterly, the accomplished tragedienne was in
Boston playing Magda Leah the Forsaken in 1904, when she captured the
admiration of the woman who then called herself Lizbeth Borden. The latter
sought and was granted an audience with O’Neil in her Tremont Theatre dressing
room. The pair took a liking to each other and began visiting in each other’s
homes.

In that interview with Littmann, O’Neil claimed she was initially unaware of
her new friend’s history. Littmann quotes O?Neil as adding, “I want to make
that clear, it did not alter our relations in the least. Of course, the tragedy
itself was never mentioned between us; never was there even so much as an
allusion to it.”

That friendship may have proven disastrous to the relationship between Lizzie
and her sister Emma. Lizzie threw a party at Maplecroft for Nance and her
theatre company.

Emma left Maplecroft shortly after this party. Several years later, in 1913,
she gave an interview to a Boston Post reporter about her leave-taking.

“The happenings at the French Street house that caused me to leave, I must
refuse to talk about,” Emma Borden stated. “I did not go until conditions
became absolutely unbearable. Then, before taking action, I consulted the Rev.
Buck, who had for years been the family spiritual advisor. After carefully
listening to my story he said it was imperative that I should make my home
elsewhere. I do not expect ever to set foot in the place while she lives.”

Emma?s statement is filled with tantalizing ambiguity. Why was it impossible
for this refined New England lady to discuss the goings-on that led her to exit
Maplecroft? Could Emma have seen these two friends in a very close embrace,
have caught sight of a kiss that lingered and went deep? If she did, that would
easily explain why Rev. Buck so strongly urged her to vacate the premises.

One thing that would explain Emma’s quick exit would be the serving of alcohol
at Lizzie’s party for Nance. At the same time, it would shore up the
possibility of telltale smooching between Lizzie and Nance as it would lower
inhibitions.

Frank Spiering in Lizzie writes of “alcoholic improprieties” when discussing a
later party but he is a notably unreliable source. He may have based his
surmise on a statement by Victoria Lincoln in A Private Disgrace about the
later Tyngsboro party that “it was not a notably quiet and sober time.” This
could indicate drinking but does not have to. Borden expert Harry Widdows
believes the views Lizzie held when she was a member of the Woman’s Christian
Temperance Union were “sincere” and that it is unlikely Lizzie ever imbibed
strong drink.

So did Lizzie Borden ever have a romance or at least a crush? There is no solid
evidence that she did. Like a not inconsiderable portion of the human
population, she may have been asexual. Or she may have been a product of the
sexual repression of the era and had sexual feelings she rigorously pushed back
from her consciousness. She may have been among those who simply dislike
romance because they find it silly or think its emotional upheavals destructive
and so preferred the more placid but sometimes more productive pleasures
offered by platonic friendships.

However, the possibility of a romantic relationship cannot be ruled out. There
are valid reasons to believe she may have had such an attachment and that she
may have been so attached to either men or women or both.

Whether or not Lizzie experienced the amorous yearnings most people do is a
question that may never be definitively answered. It adds yet another layer of
mystery to the many mysteries clustering around the fascinating and elusive
figure of Lizzie Borden.

Works cited

The author thanks Harry Widdows for his help and input through email.

deMille, Agnes, Lizzie Borden: A Dance of Death, New York, NY, Little, Brown
and Company, 1968.

Flynn, Robert A. “Fact or Fantasy: In Defense of Nance O’Neil.” Lizzie Borden
Quarterly III.4 (October 1996): 19.

Gates, David, ?A New Whack at the Borden Case,? Newsweek, June 4, 1984.

Jones, Ann, Women Who Kill, Beacon Press, Boston, Massachusetts, 1996.

Lincoln, Victoria, A Private Disgrace, New York City, NY, International
Polygonics, 1986.

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