Here's an image. Look at it. Start at the top line and don't skip to the end.
It's causes of death, by the way. And to save you a Google, "marasmus" is a nutrient deficiency caused by lack of food. Don't get caught up in what "marasmus" means, or whether or not people still get it, or if you're showing signs... You're fine! Just keep reading. You'll know what we want you to see when you get to it... you're almost there...
There it is. You can probably guess who this unlucky couple is. This is an excerpt from a list of deaths recorded in the town of Fall River, Massachusetts in the Year of Our Lord, 1892. Mr. Andrew J. Borden, a gentleman, and his wife Abby had each met an untimely demise inside their own home.
In 1892, there was cholera to worry about, and you had your dysentery, and your phthisis, which was too hard for anyone to say, whether they had tuberculosis or not. But amidst all the problems and plagues of the day, here's a little couple who were ended by an axe (?), or a large hatchet (?), or maybe even the shock of an approaching axe/large hatchet. It's unclear.
Let's imagine the town registrar knocking on the coroner's door, ready to update the list of the dead, and what that conversation might have looked like.
Coroner: "Mr. Duckworth was stricken with the dropsy."
Registrar: "Dropsy, got it."
Coroner: "Next guy... eh, milk sickness."
Registrar: "Of course. Tragic."
Coroner: "Mrs. Levitt, you'll remember, was extreme insanity."
Registrar: "My uncle lost three wives to that. Misplaced them, really."
Coroner: "Then this one was nostalgia..."
Registrar: "Don't see too many of those anymore. It's not like it used to be..."
Coroner: "Now this one is a bit thorny. Do you remember Andrew Borden, the gentleman? And his lady? Abby?
Registrar: "Rich guy with no plumbing in his house? Yeah, heard he got inconvenienced."
Coroner: "With an axe. Could have been a hatchet. Now that I think of it, what is the difference between a hatchet and an axe? I'm afraid it isn't covered in my medical dictionary."
Registrar: "I'm really not sure. We could consult the hardware store, I suppose."
Coroner: "Ooh, no thank you. Mr. Tompkins claims I owe him five dollars, though I do not, I assure you. I always pay my debts. I'm avoiding that place like the plague, which I am, in fact, actively avoiding. Typhus, you know... and cholera. Yellow fever, too, actually. I guess you could say, I'm avoiding it like the plagues..."
Registrar: "So should I put..."
Coroner: "You know, it could have been the shock that killed either of them... Can you imagine? Just going to a take a little nap here on the couch. It's tiring, going about, being a gentleman all day. And then out of nowhere, here comes you-know-who, all axe, no battle, and all done chopping wood... Axe, hatchet, shock... who can say, really?"
Registrar: "Well, I thought it was your job to..."
Coroner: "Got to run! Ship just came in! A literal ship... because you know... a lot of them don't make it here, eh, exactly..."
Registrar: "I get it."
Most of us know the details of Lizzie Borden and what became of her father and stepmother, though it appears that the lore may be waning. Kids attest that the 40 whacks are no longer sung about on the playground. In fact, after reciting the chant to them, and noticing their raised eyebrows, my rapid backtracking sounded a bit like this: "No, of course, it is horrific... no, you're right, it's not really appropriate to just sing about something like that so callously... I, uh, I'm not sure why I did that... you're right, it probably is because I'm from the 1900s."
Though Lizzie's case may one day no longer be common knowledge, that death record and the palpable uncertainty of the registrar when handed the biggest responsibility he had ever been given will live on forever. You did your best, guy. And for that, we salute you.
Mr. Andrew J. Borden, a gentleman, and his wife, Abby, of Fall River, Massachusetts.
Lizzie B., Victorian entrepreneur, hostess, likely axe/hatchet murderer. I'm not saying she did it, but if she did, it was an axe or a hatchet. Or the shock of an axe or a hatchet.
Like this post? Check out Jolly Jane Toppan, the Cape Cod Killer.
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