Most Roads Tell a Story
The Mystery Behind Murder Hill in Ellicottville
By, Carol Fisher Linn
There are so many things in daily life that we take for granted. We wake up every morning with the assurance that the world as we left it the night before is unchanged and readily accessible to us. Not so for our predecessors who blazed new trails into our wilderness back in the early 1800’s. The brave souls who came through this unsettled territory were met with daily challenges and decisions to make in this brave new world they found.
One of the decisions, as lands were cleared and street grids were developed by the Holland Land Company, was what to name the streets and roads. In the Village of Ellicottville, most our streets were named after the Presidents of the United State and their first ladies. As development moved along, roads began being named for their occupants (Bryant, Bobseine, Dunkleman), or their direction (Cattaraugus-Little Valley, Farm-to-Market), markers (Cemetery, School, or just for fun (Four-Wheel Drive, Rooster Hill Lane, Witch Hollow, Tough Row Hill, Carol Ann’s Way – so named because my husband says if it isn’t Carol Ann’s Way, it’s no way. Hmmm…
So, here’s a question. Would you live on a street named for something that makes you wince (Resentment Road), or for someone you detest, like Hitler Road? Or, looking at this week’s world events, Putin Road? I for one, would not. No matter how much I liked the property, I could not do it unless I bought the whole road and could rename it. Which brings me to the topic of this week’s history story. Murder Hill.
In December 2013, Sue M. Cross, Historian for the Town of Mansfield, wrote a story in the Historic Path of Cattaraugus County about the event that ultimately renamed a portion of Route 242 that stretches from Ellicottville to Little Valley, NY to Murder Hill (the forestland near Whig Street). We know the Ellicottville section as Fish Hill, which was named after an early settler, Nathaniel Fish, according to our resident historical authority, our Mayor, John Burrell. (He says he knows things only from his lifetime, but I suspect he’s lived more than one lifetime here in Ellicottville because he seems to know a lot about Ellicottville in the 1800’s – either that or he looks great for his age!)
Love triangles have existed since ancient times – even Adam discovered a snake in Eve’s life. You remember Helen of Troy – married to Menelaus seduced by Paris of Troy; Cleopatra, Julius Caesar and Antony (but, wait, enter Mark Antony – a foursome?); Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid and Etta Place; and the subjects of this story, young Emma Wimple, her husband, Charles Wimple and farmhand, Nelson Cool.
Charles Wimple, wounded (right arm) Civil war veteran, (Born 12/14/1844 died 3/19/1875-age 30) came to Ellicottville from Mexico, NY (200 miles, near Oswego), settling on a small, 2-acre farm in Mansfield. The Marsh family lived nearby. As the story related by Ms. Cross reveals, “Wimple became “taken” with a neighbor’s daughter, Emma Marsh. Emma was much younger than Charles.” Even though the records found by Ms. Cross hint that she was extremely young (possibly 12), she became his blushing bride. His bad arm dictated he needed a “hand.” Enter 21-year-old Nelson Cool. (Could there be a better name for an alleged lover?)
This young thing was likely weary of being a child bride and mother of two (one a five-year-old) with a third on the way, so it is alleged that (presumed) 17-year-old Emma found Nelson Cool, well, rather “cool.” No one knows for sure, but it is alleged that they became lovers and murdered Charles with rat poison. Months earlier, Charles had sent Nelson to town to buy strychnine and arsenic which was put into tins, which then sat in the pantry next to tinned corn that Emma used to make “corn coffee” for Charles. It took time and patience, but over several months, Charles met his Maker. It was Emma’s own father who suspected foul play on the part of young Nelson, so he called in the authorities. Oops! Nelson and Emma were both found guilty and sent to the hoosegow where he died, and she spent 27 years. Poor Charles is buried in Sugartown Cemetery.
Photo Caption: Actual Head Stone of Charles T Wimple