The representatives of the press followed the carriage containing the prisoner in cabs, and at 3:30 Court Square was quiet. The newsboys, who had taken possession and held high revel in it for a week, had gone off with their bundles, the curious no longer loitered on the sidewalks, and no more rumors floated out from the guard room. On Thursday night when the finale was known, the friends of the Borden family were cool and philosophical. Friday they denounced the course pursued by the authorities from beginning to end. In partnership with her sister, Miss Emma Borden had offered a reward of $5000 for the conviction of the murderer of her father and stepmother, and had secured the services of a detective to track the butcher. On the Government side it was fair and natural to presume, that she, above any person on the face of the earth, desired to bring the wretch who had committed the deed to the gallows. The very fact that she was suspected, was of itself sufficient to warrant such a conclusion, all other considerations aside. The only surmise possible, therefore, was that she would assist the authorities to the best of her ability in unravelling the mystery and in freeing herself from the chain of circumstances, weak or strong, which surrounded her. It was to be supposed that she would not only answer every question cheerfully, but that she would volunteer every particle of information in her possession, and that the more searching the examination, the better she would be satisfied. She had everything to gain and nothing to lose by a full revelation of the truth. Anybody in his sober senses would have been slow to even suggest that District Attorney Knowlton, or any other prosecuting officer, was eager to convict the innocent, to embarrass witnesses, or to impose any unnecessary hardships upon them. At the inquest every person examined was a government witness; there was no defendant, and of course, no witnesses for the defense. Whether Miss Borden did assist the court and the authorities to clear up the grim problem which confronted them, was not known. If the government officers were possessed of the ordinary intelligence, they were aware that it was a terrible thing to swear out a warrant for the arrest of a young lady and charge her with killing her father. If, as it was openly alleged at the time, the government did so, because it did not appreciate the full significance of such a charge, it must be admitted their conduct was more extraordinary and inexplicable than any feature of the crime itself. The government authorities knew that once the warrant
had been issued, Miss Borden’s character, at the time of trial which had always been irreproachable, was blotted forever; it must have known that even if she left the Superior Court room acquitted, nothing that it could do could lift the blight from her life.
The route taken by the carriage containing Lizzie Borden, Marshal Hilliard, Officer Seaver and Rev. Mr. Buck toward the Fall River railroad depot was most peculiar. It is a direct road from the Central Station to the depot. Along the main thoroughfare were people eager to catch a glimpse of the prisoner, and the Marshal, considerate of his charge, decided to disappoint the curiosity seekers. Accordingly, the journey was up hill and down dale, through side streets and along thoroughfares skirting the river. Following the carriage were others containing the representatives of the leading newspapers of the East, and these latter drew up at the depot a few seconds in advance of the official vehicle. A squad of officers was on duty there, and as the crowd surged they pushed it back. The train for Taunton was a few minutes late, and until its arrival Lizzie Borden and Mr. Buck remained in the carriage. As the clang of the engine bell was heard, the Marshal pulled up the carriage curtains and assisted Lizzie Borden to alight. She was prettily dressed and appeared quite prepossessing. She wore a blue dress of new design, and a short blue veil. At the realization that the moment for departure had arrived she seemed overcome by a momentary weakness and almost tottered. She was at once supported by the Marshal and Mr. Buck, and leaning upon the arms of these two she walked through the ladies’ waiting room and out towards the cars. The eager crowd pushed and stared and gossipped as the party entered the rear car of the train. Rev. Mr. Buck carried a box containing a number of religious and other papers and magazines, and also some books. A telescope bag containing Miss Borden’s apparel was placed in the cars. The prisoner sat near the window in a seat with Mr. Buck, and behind them was Mr. Hilliard. The blinds were drawn in order to prevent annoyance to Miss Borden by curious persons. Her glance was vacant and her thoughts were manifestly removed from her present surroundings. Not a word was exchanged between the members of the party, and the prisoner still remained in the same position, staring at nothing. In some manner the information that Miss Borden was upon the train spread, and at the few stations at which it stopped small knots of inquisitive people were gathered.
Taunton was reached at 4:20 o’clock. Awaiting her arrival was a gathering of hundreds, and they crowded about every car. Officer
Seaver in order to attract their attention, hurried to the north end of the station, and the throng hurried in that direction. At this time Mr. Hilliard and Mr. Buck escorted the prisoner from the south end of the station and into a carriage. Mr. Seaver joined them, and the crowd found itself disappointed. After the vehicle rolled the cabs of the newspaper men. Taunton Jail is not far removed from the centre of the city and is a picturesque looking stone structure. There is the main building and the keeper’s residence, which is attached. On the outside of the structure ivy grows in profusion and the building does not resemble, except in the material of its construction, the generally accepted appearance of a place of confinement. It has accommodations for sixty-five prisoners, and the women’s department is on the southeast side. In this portion of the building there are but nine cells, and before the arrival of Lizzie Borden but five of these were occupied. These were confined for offences of a minor nature, as it was not customary for the officials of Bristol County to send many women to Taunton, the majority being committed to the jail at New Bedford, where there is employment for them. The matron is Mrs. Wright, wife of Sheriff Andrew J. Wright, keeper of the jail, and her personal attention is given to the female prisoners. The officers had been notified of the coming of Miss Borden, and her arrival was unattended by any unusual ceremony inside the jail. Her step was firmer than ever, as, unassisted, she walked up the three steps and into the office of the keeper. From there she was directed to the corridor which runs along the cells of the women’s department, and here Mr. Hilliard left her. Returning to the office he handed the committing mittimus to Sheriff Wright, who examined it and found it correct.
In the meanwhile Lizzie Borden was alone with the clergyman. He spoke words of cheer to her and left her in the care of the matron. Mr. Buck said she was not shocked at the sight of the cells, and, knowing that she was innocent, accepted the situation with a calm resignation. He said her friends would call upon her from time to time, this being allowed by the institution.
The cell in which Lizzie Borden was confined is nine and one-half feet high and seven and one-half feet wide. Across the corridor, looking through the iron bars, her gaze will rest upon whitewashed walls. The furniture of the cell consists of a bedstead, chair and washbowl. At her personal request she saw none of the daily newspapers. Consequently she was not familiar with the comments of the papers regarding the case. Taken in charge by the matron, Lizzie Borden was escorted to the cell, and the iron doors clanged
behind her. Perhaps no person in Taunton experienced a greater surprise and shock at the arrival of Lizzie Borden than Mrs. Wright, the matron, in whose care the prisoner was committed. Sheriff Wright was for years a resident of Fall River, and at one time held the position of Marshal of the city police, the place now occupied by Mr. Hilliard. Mr. and Mrs. Wright were well acquainted with the Borden family, but the first names of their acquaintances had slipped from their memory, and the Sheriff and his wife did not connect the Borden they formerly knew with the prominent actors in this tragedy. When Lizzie Borden entered the presence of the matron, the latter noticed something familiar in the countenance of the young woman, and after the retirement of Rev. Mr. Buck commenced to question her. Finally, after a number of questions, Mrs. Wright asked, “Are you not the Lizzie Borden who used as a child to play with my daughter Isabel?” The answer was an affirmative one, and the information touched Mrs. Wright to the quick. When she appeared in the keeper’s office a few moments later her eyes were moist with tears.