By Niki Hatzidis

On a balmy afternoon on the 4th of August 1892, a woman’s scream rings out into the summer sunlight: ‘My father is dead!’ Later, it would be discovered that this woman’s father and her stepmother had been brutally murdered. Abby Borden was found on the floor of an upstairs bedroom, face-down, her back hacked open by 19 vicious hatchet blows. Andrew was discovered in the sitting room downstairs with his head caved in.

Suspicion was quickly cast towards Lizzie, their daughter: she had been exhibiting some curious behaviour, such as burning her dress later that same day and buying poison a few days before, after which the Bordens had taken ill. She also had the strongest motive since, because Abby was killed first, she and her sister Emma would inherit all of Andrew’s estate.

The crime and subsequent trial enraptured the people of New England, the court room filling with spectators and the proceedings reported to the entire country as the biggest crime of its kind in history up until that point. After 40 minutes of deliberation, her all-male jury deemed that the crime was so ghastly that it could never have been committed by a woman. Lizzie was set free, inherited a buttload of money, and went on to live in Fall River until she died. This was all despite the fact that she was socially ostracised, and children would taunt her with a song about her alleged crime.

What, you may be wondering, does this have to do with me? Cut to 2021. I found myself in a shed with five strangers and our tour guide, Louise, on a chilly February afternoon. Louise had rounded us into the back shed and gift shop to check in when the phone rang. She answered and then put it on speaker. An easy voice was heard singing, ‘Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty sacks, when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty-one.’ Louise rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. ‘We get that all the time,’ she sighed nonchalantly and lead the small group to the front of the house.

The current owner has furnished the house in a way that the Bordens’ might have styled it, though none of the original furniture is still there. After an introduction in the formal sitting room, Louise tells us about the history of the house and the area. The rest of the tour is a breakdown of what happened that day and Louise would ask us to keep an open mind about Lizzie’s alleged guilt.

She leads us into the dining room and invites us to sit around the long hardwood table where Abby’s autopsy would have taken place. The cabinets that line the room are full of china and faux skulls and other bones. Laminated, black and white crime scene photos of Abby and Andrew were passed around, most of which can be found online – in case you are interested in seeing Andrew’s caved-in face. Next up was the family room where Andrew was killed while taking his afternoon nap.

On the second floor we were shown the John Morse Room where Abby was found. It’s the most requested and expensive room in the house. We then saw Lizzie, Emma, and Abby and Andrew’s bedrooms, learning about the dynamics of the family, which can be encapsulated by one word: yikes. After seeing the third floor – where most guests report paranormal activity and don’t make it through the night (as in they check out early) – the tour ends in the kitchen next to an antique wood stove. We were told about Lizzie’s later years, her fancy new house and charity work. Louise asked us if we still believed that Lizzie was guilty and was dismayed when we all raised our hands.

Currently, there are ongoing discussions about the ethics around the creation and profiting off true crime content. As a fan I am conflicted because I see both the pros and cons of its consumption. Using the recent Netflix series about Jeffery Dahmer as an example, a big argument against it is the revictimisation of the people affected and the retraumatisation of their families and loved ones. I can’t imagine what it is like for people to obsess over the death of someone you loved. There are definitely bad actors out there that harass victims and their families, and as a conscious consumer I believe that is indefensible and absolutely disgusting. I do not condone it.

And yet, I have seen content creators like Stephanie Harlowe and Kendall Rae on Youtube highlight long forgotten cases in the media, and this attention has led to new leads coming forward and even having some of these cold cases solved. With newer cases, they are able to pump important information out into the ether quickly, which then leads to arrests and cases being solved faster. It also helps educate the public. They advocate for victims and promote charities that directly benefit communities at risk and raise money for important causes such as scholarships, legal fees and backlogged rape kit testing.

There is a great book by Rachel Monroe called Savage Appetites that thoroughly goes over why people enjoy this content, but I can only speak for myself. Humans yearn for stories, and true crime tales are very complex, gruelling and fascinating stories. I am genuinely curious about the human condition, the psychology of how a person could be brutal or manipulative, and I take inspiration from people that have persevered despite what happened to them.

You learn a lot about people – the good, bad and the ugly – and it makes you ask a lot of questions. I’m definitely more conscious about the type of content I consume; I look at who is benefiting from the material and their motives and I make sure that reliable resources are being used. Ultimately, I think it’s at the discretion of the consumer to make sure that they are being as ethical as possible.

Being in Lizzie’s house felt eerie, and not just because there is supposedly a ghost that will tug your hair if you sing that taunting song. You’re standing in a place that is a part of history, a part of the true crime landscape, but at its core, you’re in a place where two people lost their lives and have never received justice. You have to enter with reverence and respect. Think of the victims and wish them peace.