On the evening of Thursday, April 8, 1886, a young kitchen maid named Matilda Smith left the Centenary Collegiate Institute in Hackettstown, New Jersey, to spend the night out with friends. Born in Byram Township on June 20, 1868, she had grown up in extreme poverty with little education, but she had secured respectable employment at the institute, which provided her with accommodation. The rules for female staff were strict: all employees had to be back by ten o’clock, and anyone who returned later without the matron’s permission would be locked out for the night. Tilly, as she was always known, had arranged to meet her friends Annie Van Sickle and the Wright sisters, Mary and Agnes.
She knew the evening would run past ten and did not want to ask the matron for permission, so she approached the institute’s janitor, James Titus, and asked if he would let her back in after the permitted hour. Titus, a quiet man of twenty-nine who had worked at the institute for more than eleven years and was married with a small child, refused. He was not allowed to break the rules and told her she would have to request permission from the matron. Tilly did not.
After finishing work, she made her way alone to Main Street in Hackettstown, where she met her friends, and together they went to the entertainment hall to see a show. There they met two young salesmen named Harry Harring and Charles Munich, who were staying at a nearby hotel. When the show ended, the group walked along Main Street, and soon the Wright sisters went home, leaving Tilly and Annie in the company of the two men. Among the people out that night was a young man named Frank Weedy, whom Tilly had previously courted.
She spoke with him briefly before saying goodbye to Annie and walking back toward the institute accompanied by Charles Munich. The following morning, Friday, April 9, a gentleman named John White was walking his dog near the institute when he discovered the body of a young woman. She was identified as Tilly Smith. The body was taken to the mortuary, where Dr.
J. S. Cook conducted an autopsy. He determined the cause of death to be strangulation, and he reported that she had been outraged, adding that according to him, more than one person had been involved.
He also noted that she had struggled valiantly against her attacker. Dust found on her dress led police to believe the assault had taken place in a barn a short distance from where the body was found. There were no signs that she had been dragged, so they presumed she had been carried to the field near the institute. Harry Harring and Charles Munich were arrested.
Both had been seen with Tilly that night, and witnesses confirmed that Charles Munich had been walking with her in the direction of the institute. Munich told detectives that he had escorted her to the gates at around ten minutes past ten, finding the door already locked. He said he offered to pay for a room for her at his hotel, but she declined and walked around the side of the building. The police held the two men for a few days, but witnesses had seen them both drinking at the bar of the American Hotel at eleven o’clock, meaning they would not have had time to commit the murder.
A thousand-dollar reward was offered for information leading to the arrest of the person or persons responsible, and the Pinkerton Detective Agency was hired to assist. New Jersey’s chief detective, Bob Hagerty, suspected the janitor, James Titus. Hagerty believed Titus had opened the door for Tilly on the night of April 8 so she would not get into trouble with the matron, then made improper advances toward her. When she rejected him, he knocked her down, causing the marks on her face, and strangled her when she struggled.
Hagerty theorized that Titus then carried her body to the field where it was found the next morning. There was no evidence to support this, but the newspapers sensationalized the theory, and public opinion turned against the quiet janitor. The press also reported that Tilly had been buried in a pauper’s grave. The New York World began collecting contributions to erect a memorial in her honor, describing it as a monument of virtue to commemorate a brave young lady who died in defense of her honor.
The press continued to push for Titus’s arrest, pointing out that the dust found on Tilly’s dress could be explained by his work tending the furnace in the basement. A witness named Peter Mead came forward and told police that on the night of April 8 he had spoken to Titus in the basement and that Titus had spoken of Miss Smith in a disrespectful manner, suggesting she did not possess the high moral values expected of a young lady in the late nineteenth century. Mead also said Titus had told him to wait because Miss Smith would soon be returning from her night out. The police believed Mead and did not investigate his motives.
If they had, they would have discovered that he was a strange and arrogant character, a student at the institute who insisted on being called Reverend and who earned money by assisting Titus with janitorial duties. On April 29, 1886, James Titus was arrested and charged with the assault and murder of Matilda Smith. The trial began on September 28, 1886, in Belvedere, New Jersey, about fifteen miles from the crime scene. The courtroom was full, with crowds gathered outside and reporters recording every word.
Many witnesses were called, but it was Peter Mead who provided the most sensational testimony. After the reward was offered, he had begun taking notes on conversations he claimed to have had with the defendant in the basement. He told the court that one night Titus was agitated and kept walking up and down the corridors, and that he suddenly stood up and said, “Well, they may arrest me and they may hang me, but they can’t destroy my soul. ”
The defense had a difficult task, as the press had been hostile toward Titus.
The prosecution mentioned reports that he had acted improperly toward other young female employees, though they could not produce witnesses to confirm this. The defense described Titus as a quiet, reserved man who had always enjoyed an excellent reputation in the community. They also pointed out inconsistencies in the case. The prosecution insisted the murder had occurred between 10:15 and 10:30 on the night of April 8, but the doctors who performed the post-mortem believed the crime had taken place at least two hours later, in the early hours of April 9.
The defense noted that Titus knew every inch of the institute and grounds, and if he had committed the crime, he surely would not have left the body in a field when there were two cesspools covered with flagstones nearby, where a body could have been concealed for months or even years. Tilly had not worked at the institute long, was known to be temperamental, and if she had gone missing, the matron might have assumed she disliked the rules. Titus had also been ill at the time and had not wanted to leave the warmth of the basement. The prosecution portrayed Tilly as a charming and polite young lady from poor circumstances who was determined to improve her situation through respectable employment.
The defense painted a very different picture, describing her as a young woman of low social and moral standards who they believed had previously worked as a prostitute. They produced witnesses to support this claim. The trial lasted nearly a month. James Titus did not testify in his own defense, which many took as a sign of guilt.
The jury returned a guilty verdict, and when the judge asked if he had anything to say, Titus responded that he was innocent and had not committed the crime for which he had been convicted. The judge sentenced him to death. The sentence was appealed. The newspapers had been hostile toward Titus, and apart from Harring and Munich, the police had not seriously investigated anyone else.
On the night of the murder, Tilly had spoken to Frank Weedy, whom she had previously courted and who was believed to still have feelings for her. He had been seen with a young man named Jesse Baggett, but neither had ever been considered a suspect. Before his execution date, James Titus confessed to the murder. He claimed that he and Tilly had been conducting an improper relationship for some time and had been intimate again on the night of April 8, after she returned from her night out.
He said she then announced she believed she was pregnant and that he was the father. An argument followed, and he became so enraged that he strangled her. His sentence was commuted to life in prison. The monument to Tilly Smith was unveiled on November 24, 1887, beside her grave in Hackettstown Union Cemetery, built from donations from local and national benefactors.
It reads, “She died in defense of her honor. ” James Titus served nineteen years and was released on December 27, 1904. His wife had died the previous November. He continued living in Hackettstown until his death on June 18, 1952, at the age of ninety-five, and was buried in the Union Cemetery, the same cemetery where Tilly had been laid to rest sixty-six years earlier.
Many people believed Titus confessed only to save himself from the gallows and was in fact innocent. After his release, he never spoke about the case again. It is said that Tilly’s ghost still walks through the college, with sightings reported in the grounds, the halls, and the theater.
James Titus is the man who, according to history, murdered Matilda Smith, but doubt remains about whether he actually committed the crime, and the truth of what happened on the night of April 8, 1886, may never be known.