There were quite a number of officers there — seemed to come very rapidly — and they were searching everywhere. And I came downstairs from there and went through the room where Mr. Borden lay, and went out of the house. Mr. Sawyer was outside of the door, outside of the house, standing on the step, as I recollect it. There were quite a number outside in the yard, one or two officers, Mr. Sawyer, and Mr. Wixon and someone else. I couldn’t recall them all. I went to the barn. The barn door was fast with a hasp over a staple and an iron pin in it. By a hasp, I mean a piece of metal that goes over the staple and is held in place by a pin.
I went upstairs until I reached about three or four steps from the top, and while there, part of my body was above the floor — above the level of the floor — and I looked around the barn to see if there was any evidence of anything having been disturbed, and I didn’t notice that anything had or seemed to have been disturbed.
I stooped down low to see if I could discern any marks on the floor of the barn having been made there.
I did that by stooping down and looking across the bottom of the barn floor.
I didn’t see any.
I reached out my hand to see if I could make an impression on the floor of the barn, by putting my hand down so, and found that I made an impression on the barn floor. I could see the marks that I made quite distinctly when I looked for them in the accumulated dust.
I stepped up on the top.
It was hot in the loft of the barn, very hot. You know it was a hot day.
There’s a little door on the side of the barn upstairs — I think it was on the south side of the barn — which they used for putting in hay. There was two windows, one on each side of the barn. The door and the windows were closed.
I took four or five steps on the outer edge of the barn floor, the edge nearest the stairs that came up, to see if I could discern those — and I did.
I discerned those footprints that I’d made by stooping and casting my eye on a level with the barn floor.
And could see them plainly.
I saw no other footsteps in that dust than those which I’d made myself.
Lizzie looked at the jury box.
The faces of the twelve jurors were impassive.
My name is Michael Mullaly, I’ve been a Fall River police officer for something over fourteen years. On August fourth, last year, I first went to the Borden house when Officer Allen went back there. It was he who gave me the news at the patrol-wagon house on the corner of Rock and Franklin Streets. I went from there to the station house and then to the Borden house. Officer Allen and I went in the door on the north side of the house. There was quite a number of people around the house, out at the gate, outside the fence. I didn’t notice anyone inside the fence.
I told Mrs. Churchill that I’d come there for a report, and she told me that I would have to see Miss Lizzie Borden. I went to Miss Borden and told her that the marshal had sent me there to get a report of all that had happened to her father, that is, he who laid dead on the sofa at the time. She told me that she was out in the yard, and when she came in she found him dead on the sofa. I then inquired of her if she knew what kind of property her father had on his person, and she told me that her father had a silver watch and chain, a pocketbook with money in it, and a gold ring on his little finger. About that time, Officer Doherty came back in...
“Now Mr. Doherty, when you returned to the house the second time, did you see anybody you hadn’t seen before?”
“Yes, sir. Mrs. Churchill and Miss Russell and Miss Borden.”
“Where did you see her?”
“In the kitchen, I think.”
“Can you give any description — and if so, do it the best you can — of the dress that she had on when she was downstairs in the kitchen?”
“I thought she had a light blue dress with a bosom in the waist, or something like a bosom. I have a faint recollection; that is all I can say about it.”
“Any figure on it? Do you remember any figure?”
“I thought there was a small figure on the dress, a little spot like.”
“What color was the figure?”
“Something... I can’t tell exactly.”
“Did you have any talk with her at that time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Will you be kind enough to state what that was?”
Miss Borden told me that Bridget would show us where the axes were. When we started to go downstairs, I told Bridget what I wanted to find, that we were going for axes and hatchets in the cellar. Bridget led the way for me and Officer Mullaly. We went into two or three dark places, wood or coal rooms or something. We separated. I got over near the sink and I noticed a pail and some towels...
“Pass from those,” Knowlton said quickly. He had no desire to have the thrust of Doherty’s testimony detoured by any talk of the menstrual towels in the pail under the sink.
“Mr. Mullaly was looking at something,” Doherty said. “I came and looked over his shoulder. He had a hatchet in his hands.”
My name is William A. Dolan. I’m a physician, been in practice eleven years at the Fall River Hospital. I was educated at the University of Pennsylvania, Medical Department. I’ve been engaged in general practice, including surgery as well as the practice of medicine, more surgery than anything else. I’m also the medical examiner for the county of Bristol, have held that office for two years next month. I was in office for a year when this thing happened.
I first went to the Borden house that day at about a quarter to twelve. I happened to be passing by the house, and I fix the time because I was in there about ten to fifteen minutes when I heard the City Hall bell strike twelve. The first person I saw was Charles Sawyer. He was at the door. And the next person I saw, I think, was Dr. Bowen, who met me at the kitchen door. I saw also, I think — in the kitchen — Bridget Sullivan and Mr. Morse. I’m not sure about Mr. Morse, but I think so. Mrs. Churchill and Alice Russell were in the dining room.
I went in the sitting room and saw the form lying upon the sofa. The sofa was placed against the north wall of the room, running east and west with the head toward the parlor — that is, toward the east — and the feet toward the west, the kitchen. The end of the sofa was flush with the jam of the dining-room door. The body was covered with a sheet. Dr. Bowen was with me when I looked at the body.
I took hold of the hand of the body and found it was warm. The head was resting upon a small sofa cushion that had a little white tidy on it. The cushion in turn, I think, rested on his coat — his Prince Albert coat — which had been doubled up and put under there, and that, I think, rested upon an afghan, or sofa cover... a knitted affair. The lowest of the three was the afghan, then came the coat, and then the sofa cushion.
The blood was of a bright red color and still oozing from the head. At the head, it was dripping on the carpet underneath, between the woodwork, the head of the sofa and the sofa body. It was not coagulated. The blood that was on the carpet had been soaked in. There was no blood, really, on top of the carpet. I should think there were two spots soaked with blood. I should judge eight inches in diameter. Right under the head of the sofa. That is, practically underneath where the head of the sofa joins the body of the sofa. I made an examination and found that there were from eight to ten wounds — I wasn’t positive at that time — on his face.
I observed the position of the body, and the clothing he had on. On the outside, he had on a cardigan jacket — that is, a woolen jacket — black vest and black trousers, and a pair of Congress shoes. He had a watch and pocketbook. I examined the pocketbook and found some money in bills and some in specie. I couldn’t tell the exact figure, I have it here in my notes — he had $81. 65.