Murderous Mothers: Tillie Irelan

 

Outspoken and pretty, Matilda Fritz was not a particularly bright or talented child, but her teachers in Philadelphia believed that her smile would help her get by in life. The best Tillie could hope for, they believed, was to marry a good provider. And, in 1926, at the age of 22, Tillie married an ironworker named Arthur Irelan. Though they had a baby girl, the marriage didn't live up to its promise; Arthur drank too much and had a habit of going out with other women. He became abusive, but she decided to stick around for nearly nine years, until the day she decided to return home. But, if Tillie thought she had left her problems behind, she was sorely mistaken. As it turned out, Tillie's problems were just getting started.

Upon her return, Tillie and her daughter lived with a sister, but discovered that they could not get along with each other. Tillie left, with a small sum of money her estranged husband had sent to her, and when the money ran out she boarded her daughter with neighbors and supported herself by taking various positions as a domestic servant. Over time, her family lost touch with her, but Tillie always had a steady stream of boyfriends to keep her company. 

First, there was a man she had met at a dance hall. It was nothing more than a one-night stand that left her pregnant with a second child. The man never even knew that he had become a father. The next boyfriend was a married man, separated from his wife, who set Tillie up in a furnished apartment-- a man whom Tillie led to be believe was the true father of the baby boy named Charlie. Charles was born at Temple University Hospital on April 9, 1938. A few months later, Tillie's boyfriend reconciled with his wife, leaving her to raise the little boy on her own.

By this time, Tillie's daughter had gone back to Baltimore to live with relatives, and Charlie went to live with the Maurer family on Crease Street. This arrangement allowed Tillie to take on additional jobs and work extra hours, but she spent every free moment she had with her baby boy. Soon, she realized that Charlie wasn't developing as quickly as other children his age. Worried that the Maurers might not be providing her son with the proper amount of milk, food, toys, medicine and other essentials a baby needs for a healthy and happy upbringing, Tillie offered the Maurers more money. Unfortunately, Charlie's development remained stunted; at 20 months of age, the child was still not able to walk or talk. "He just sat there like an idiot," Tillie later remarked. She knew there was something wrong with him, and that he would never have a chance to lead a normal and productive life.

On December 6, 1936, Tillie quit her $5-per-week job as a domestic servant because she found her employer's children to be too "fussy". The following day, she moved into a tiny rented room on North 15th Street. Her money was almost gone, and she fell into a state of deep depression. On Tuesday, December 12, the 35-year-old mother retrieved her son from the Maurers and took him to a vacant lot on the corner of Melvale and Richmond Streets, where she attempted to kill him by setting his clothing on fire. Perhaps it was maternal instict, or maybe it was the sound of pedestrians approaching, but Tillie quickly regained her senses and rescued Charlie. But the small child's reprieve would prove to be short-lived. The following afternoon, Wednesday, December 13, Tillie put a pillow over Charlie's face and suffocated him. But what she did next was even more astonishing.

From Bundle of Joy to Bundle of Trash

On the Saturday evening of December 16 a bloody bundle was discovered in the gutter along Berks Street, which was bounded on both sides by Monument Cemetery. It was a man named James Lee who found the bundle at around seven o'clock while he being driven home from work by Miss Gladys Rhodes. "Something about the way the papers flapped in the wind made me think it was a big parcel which had been lost by somebody," Lee stated. "I told Miss Rhodes to stop the car, and I climbed out and lighted a match to examine it." Wrapped with newspaper, the bundle was the torso of a small child. Its arms, legs, and head had been hacked off. 

James Lee and Gladys Rhodes drove around until they located a policeman. Patrolman Victor Reider then telephoned the 8th and Jefferson Street police station. The city homicide squad, under the direction of Lieutenant Bart Gorman, leaped into action. Coroner Charles H. Hersch examined the body and found it belonged to a male child. One arm was completely missing, while the hand of the other arm had been severed at the wrist. It was a sloppy, careless job-- apparently the work of an amateur killer-- as the murderer had wrapped the remains in the December 12 and December 13 editions of the Philadelphia Inquirer. This gave detectives all the information they needed to crack the case. One sheet of newspaper featured the crossword puzzle page, and a mail-in prize coupon which someone had filled out. Part of the address was too smudged to decipher, but the house number was "1750". 

The body was turned over to Dr. Anthony Donato of the Women's Homeopathic Hospital, who conducted an autopsy. He estimated that the boy had been dead for just four to six hours. He also added that it appeared as if the killer had started the amputation while the child was still alive, and that the amputations had been performed with a blunt instrument by someone who knew nothing of surgery. Additionally, Dr. Donato found evidence that an automobile had run over the child's chest, although he wasn't able to say whether this had been done intentionally by the killer, or accidentally by a passing motorist. After the autopsy, the headless body was taken to the morgue.

 

Meanwhile, a citywide search of nearby unoccupied buildings was made for the missing body parts, and in the morning, Director Martin McLoughlin of the Department of Public Works directed his employees to search the city sewers. The search was called off when detectives found the child's limbs and head stuffed into a suitcase, in a rented room at 1750 North 15th Street-- an address they were able to locate from the clue on the crossword puzzle page of the Philadelphia Inquirer. It led them right to the apartment of 35-year-old Tillie Irelan. She immediately confessed.

Police also arrested Theodore Thompson, a 43-year-old gas station employee, who was known to be Tillie's most recent boyfriend. Thompson knew nothing of the murder, and, as a matter of fact, knew nothing of little Charlie Irelan. "I didn't even know that she had a kid," he declared at the police station. "I just asked her to come live with me, and she said she would." Detectives believed that Tillie killed her son so that she could move in with Thompson, and Thompson was eventually released.

 

Milkshake for a Murderer

According to Tillie, after she strangled her son, the body remained in her room until the following day, when she decided to sever Charlie's head and limbs and burn the clothing. The fire made too much smoke, so she stamped out the flames. She put the body parts in a black suitcase, which she hid in her closet, and then carried the bundle one block to the spot where it was eventually found.

"I put the bundle under my arm and walked out, up 15th Street to Berks. That was was just as it was getting dark Saturday afternoon. I turmed a little way west into Berks Street, dropped the bundle into the gutter, and came back to my room," stated Tillie. "I waited until late in the morning before I went out to the drugstore across the street. I got a milkshake, and a bought a paper, so I could read all about it."

 

In her confession, Tillie provided an appalling motive for her crime. She stated that her 20-month-old son, Charlie, "interfered with her freedom". She was arraigned immediately after her confession and charged with first-degree murder, seemingly unaware of the fact that her own confession could lead her to the electric chair. She was taken to Moyamensing Prison, and appeared before Coroner Hersch for the inquest on December 27. She smiled on her way to the inquest, posing for newspaper photographers, in an almost surreal display of cold blood. As Detective James McHugh escorted Tillie to the Coroner's Court, he asked her if she would be attending her son's funeral, which was to be held that Saturday at Sunset Memorial Cemetery in Fox Chase.

"What funeral?" she asked. "Didn't they bury that kid yet?"

 

The Murder Trial

Tillie was convinced that she would be acquitted. After all, in her eyes, she was the true victim. She had heroically left her abusive husband, and had nearly succeeded in tricking another man into believing he was Charlie's father. She had delivered her child from a life of poverty and hardship, and this was how society planned to repay her? Tillie was absolutely shocked that the public had turned against her. Hadn't she suffered enough?

The trial got under way in January of 1940, with Tillie changing her mind and entering a plea of guilty before Judges McDevitt, Rosen and Crumlish. There would be no sensational testimony, no courtroom fireworks or surprise witnesses. The trial was as drab and meaningless as Tillie's own pathetic existence; with a confession and a guilty plea, the judges sent Tillie back to jail to await sentencing. On Wednesday, February 29, the sentence was handed down by Judge Harry S. McDevitt-- death by electrocution.

Tillie during her trial

 

Tillie Irelan became only the third woman from Philadelphia sentenced to death, and the first Philadelphia woman sentenced to death in the electric chair. Up to that point, only one female, Irene Schroeder, had paid for her crimes in Pennsylvania's electric chair, and Schroeder's execution had caused such outrage that many believed the commonwealth would never again take the life of a female prisoner. Before Tillie had a chance to return to her jail cell, women's rights activists and civic leaders had already begun penning letters calling the sentence a miscarriage of justice. Mrs. C. Frederick Rau, president-elect of the Philadelphia Federation of Women's Clubs and Allied Organizations, wrote:

"The thing the Irelan woman did is, of course, a hideous crime and, on the face of it, she deserves the punishment she is to get. But I believe the case, and others like it, should be considered from a different angle. There has been an increasing number of these degenerate, abnormal crimes in the last decade, and I do not believe that the execution of the criminals involved has brought us any nearer a solution to the problem."

Mrs. Walter Craig, of the Better Philadelphia Committee, wrote:

"Condemning her to death, as I see it, does not solve the problem that faced her, or the general problem of persons like her. She is still enough of a person to be made useful in some degree, however small. I believe that, in an institution where she would be kept under surveillance and care, she might make some contribution to society."

This sentiment was echoed by Mrs. Philip E. Hughes, vice president of the Women's Club of the Society for Ethical Culture, who wrote:

"A woman like Mrs. Irelan needs medical care. No woman who is normal could murder her own child. Therefore, it is our duty, as members of society, not to take this woman's life... but to educate for a better understanding of her kind of problem."

Not all women felt this way, however. Norma Carson, of the Juvenile Division from Crime Prevention, declared:

"Generally speaking, I do not believe in capital punishment, but if we do not make examples of some people, such as a woman who kills her own baby, we are going to have a growing number of people who will take a chance on getting away with such crimes... A woman who murders her child is either hopelessly insane and can never be cured, or she is hopelessly evil and can never be cured of that."

 

Spared From the Chair

The crusade to spare Tillie Irelan from the electric chair paid off. In February of the following year, the State Supreme Court commuted her sentence to life imprisonment, because Tillie, according to the court's decision, "was of a low order of intelligence". In his opinion, Justice Drew stated that while psychiatrists had determined that the defendant was sane, it was his belief that Tillie was unable to make rational decisions. "She did not have the ability to think things through to their logical conclusion, and her sordid sex life was a part of her condition," wrote Justice Drew. "Under fair conditions of life this would not have happened to her."

But, as Tillie would eventually come to discover, life was not always fair.

The End of the Road

Tillie found it difficult to adjust to the State Industrial School for Women at Muncy, where she had been sentenced to spend the remainder of her life. But, in August of 1946, after five years in prison, she was transferred to the State Mental Hospital at Norristown. There she remained until April 30, 1961, when Tillie-- now 56 years of age-- managed to escape.

On Monday, May 29, after a month of freedom, Tillie was found dead in a field on the grounds of Norristown State Hospital. Next to her body was a bloody knife. According to Montgomery County Coroner John C. Simpson, Tillie had taken her life by stabbing herself in the abdomen. Her body was cremated, and her remains laid to rest at Laurel Hill Cemetery.

One has to wonder how Tillie Irelan spent her final days. Did twenty years of confinement and self-reflection cause her to change her feelings toward the little boy she had butchered? Did she travel to Sunset Memorial Cemetery to visit Charlie's grave? Or did she wander the streets of Philadelphia in search of lost lovers and forgotten boyfriends, stuck in her delusion that she was still a pretty, blonde temptress? If you close you eyes, you can almost see her with tear-stained mascara running down her cheeks, hopelessly wandering through the grass with a sharp knife in her hand and a mental asylum for a backdrop, desperately trying to decide whether she should return to the familiar confines of a hospital room, or take that long walk into the great unknown.




Sources:

The Philadelphia Inquirer, Dec. 17, 1939.
The Philadelphia Inquirer, Dec. 18, 1939.
The Philadelphia Inquirer, Dec. 28, 1939.
The Philadelphia Inquirer, Feb. 29, 1940.
The Philadelphia Inquirer, Feb. 21, 1941.
The Philadelphia Inquirer, August 8, 1946.
The Philadelphia Inquirer, May 30, 1961.