Morphine

The only reason we know about her morphine prescription is because Dr. Bowen was asked about it during Lizzie’s trial by Melvin Adams, a member of her defense team. Adams then elicited another medical tidbit from Dr. Bowen when he asked:

Q: [Adams] Does not morphine given in double doses to allay mental distress and nervous excitement somewhat affect the memory and change and alter the view of things and give people hallucinations?

A: [Bowen] Yes sir.

Q: There is no doubt about it is there?

A: No sir.

Edward Radin, in his 1961 book, described the reaction to this information in the courtroom: “News that Lizzie Borden had been kept under constant sedation since the afternoon of the murders, information so contrary to the portrait of her as an unemotional iron-willed woman, created a sensation.” No doubt observers were surprised to hear such personal medical details. But why would Lizzie’s own attorneys decide to publicly disclose that Lizzie had been daily taking a drug that might cause her to hallucinate or become confused? Most likely it was because they were hoping it would help explain why Lizzie’s infamously damaging inquest testimony, the testimony they would soon fight to have ruled inadmissible, had been so confused and incoherent.

Several reporters covering the case seemed convinced that morphine had indeed been a factor in Lizzie’s poor performance at the inquest, with The Boston Globe headline declaring, “Lizzie’s Mind Clouded By Dosing with Morphine Before the Inquest.” In that article, Joe Howard wrote about her “befogged condition as a result of morphine.” But the district attorney was not having it; Knowlton, in his closing, sniffed at the “cowardly suggestion that that woman could not tell the truth because she had taken a drug. Ah, desperate is the cause that has to apologize in that way.”

Today, many who lean toward Lizzie’s innocence will refer to Lizzie being under the sway of an opiate as a way to justify why she came across as a liar at the inquest and was so detached from reality that she couldn’t stop contradicting herself, let alone other witnesses. As Kat Koorey wrote in The Hatchet, the morphine that Dr. Bowen had provided Lizzie “to help her withstand such an onslaught to her sensibilities,” is often believed to have “resulted in her odd and unrealistic answers in the official inquiry.”

The morphine hypothesis isn’t a bad theory, and it may have indeed contributed at least some to a “befogged condition.” But Lizzie was given the morphine for nighttime use, to help her sleep. The half-life of morphine is typically 2 to 4 hours, with most medical texts saying any significant effect on the brain has fully resolved after 4 to 6 hours. (Those who have been given a morphine pump to deal with post-surgery pain could tell you that estimate is probably overly generous, and the drug wears off much faster.)

Unless Lizzie decided not to use the drug at night and took it during the day while she was actively testifying on the stand (not inconceivable if she was feeling anxious about it), taking morphine before bed probably wouldn’t have compromised her ability to recall what happened the day of the murders. But there is something more powerful than a quarter-grain of morphine that impacts one’s ability to store memories. And it’s something that nearly everyone who showed up in the hour after Andrew’s murder was impacted by, not just Lizzie. And that something is traumatic shock. If Lizzie was befuddled by anything during her inquest, it probably wasn’t the morphine, but was instead the stress chemicals churned out by her own stunned brain.

(For more on several likely reasons Lizzie’s inquest testimony went sideways, see Inquest: Mitigating Factors.)