Maggie

One of a writer’s favorite ways to show that Lizzie Borden, axe murderess, was inherently insensitive to others is to point out that she called Bridget Sullivan, the family maid, not by her given name but by the name “Maggie.” These writers make it clear that Lizzie was so entitled, so uncaring, that she could not be bothered to remember the name of the domestic servant who had lived with her for nearly three years. She and her sister Emma both lazily, and insultingly, called Bridget by the name of their former maid, or so suggested Victoria Lincoln and dozens of others. (For the record, there is no evidence that any of the maids who lived with the family before Bridget was actually named Maggie.)

Q: [By Mr. Robinson]: You were called Maggie?

A: Yes, sir.

Q: By Miss Emma and Miss Lizzie?

A: Yes, sir.

Q: But that was not unpleasant to you?

A: No, sir, it was not.

Q: Not at all offensive?

A: No, sir.

Q: Did not cause any ill-feeling or trouble?

A: No, sir.

Q: Did Mr. and Mrs. Borden call you by some other name?

A: Yes, sir, called me by my own right name.

So why did Emma and Lizzie call her “Maggie”? According to Michael Martins, curator of the Fall River Historical Society, in 19th-century New England, Irish maids were often referred to as “a Maggie” in the upper-class households that hired them. We can find several references to others connected to Borden case referring to their own maids as “Maggie,” including Mrs. Mary Brigham. In The Jennings Journals, a note about Benjamin Cowgill references his “girl Maggie”. Even District Attorney Hosea Knowlton, while questioning Lizzie at the inquest, did not hesitate to refer to Bridget as “Maggie.”

We know from the inquest testimony of Alice Russell that Emma and Lizzie aspired to be “cultured girls,” and if cultured girls in 1890s Fall River typically called their Irish maids by the name “Maggie,” then it is no surprise that the Borden girls would follow suit. (It is also no surprise that Andrew and Abby, who cared little for the fashion of the day, simply called Bridget by her given name.) Oddly, “Bridget” was also apparently a common shortcut name for an Irish maid, but several sources on American social history say it was more often used in a derogatory stereotype way, so “Maggie” may have been considered an upgrade.

However strange to us today, in the caste-like layers of Victorian society that held sway in late 19th century New England, calling the Irish servant of the house “Maggie” was a norm that raised no eyebrows, and seemed to be regarded by the maids themselves as the ordinary way of things. The habit is more an interesting artifact of a different time than a pronouncement on Lizzie’s character or her treatment of the hired help.

In fact, according to the book Parallel Lives from the Fall River Historical Society, Lizzie Borden was said by the people who knew her in later life to be exceedingly kind and generous to her employees, a generosity which extended even to their children. Many of those children knew Lizzie as “Auntie Borden” and adored her for the frequent gifts she bestowed on them. And, as those children grew into their own old age, they would often speak glowingly of her to journalists and writers who still cared enough to write a more accurate story about the legendary axe murderess of Fall River.