The Tragic Ballad of Timothy Merrick

"On Springfield Mountain" is one of America’s earliest known ballads, recounting the tragic death of a young man fatally bitten by a rattlesnake while mowing a field. The song memorializes Timothy Merrick, who was recorded to have died of a snakebite on August 7, 1761, in the Outward Commons—an area that is now part of Wilbraham, Massachusetts.

Recognized as a staple of early American folk tradition, the song appears in numerous collections and is often cited as an example of the elegiac verse tradition—poems and ballads written to honor the dead. Over time, it gained the status of folklore, spreading far beyond New England.

Because of its popularity, many lyrical and melodic variations emerged. Early versions were sung to preexisting tunes such as Old Hundredth and Merrily Danced the Quaker’s Wife, while later adaptations developed their own distinctive melodies.

The True Story Behind the Ballad

Timothy Merrick was born on May 24, 1739, the son of Lieutenant Thomas Merrick and his wife, Mary. At twenty-two, Timothy was engaged to Sarah Lamb, his village sweetheart. On what was to be an ordinary summer day, August 7, 1761, he went out to mow one of his father’s fields and was bitten by a rattlesnake. Despite efforts to save him, Timothy died soon after.

Local historians have long studied the event, seeking to determine its precise location. Historian Charles Merrick identified Wilbraham as the site of the tragedy, while neighboring Hampden, Massachusetts, also lays claim to the story. The farmland where Timothy was said to have died lies just across today’s Wilbraham-Hampden line. Before 1878, however, that area was still part of South Wilbraham, which explains the overlap in claims.

In his History of Wilbraham (1913), Chauncey Peck described the location as “seventy to ninety rods southwest of the boy’s home,” which would place it within present-day Hampden. A contemporaneous town record from 1761 supports the story:

“Lieut. Thomas Mirick’s only Son dyed, August 7th, 1761, By the Bite of a Rattlesnake, Being 22 years, two months and three days old, and very nigh marridge.”

Though rattlesnake deaths were exceedingly rare in Massachusetts, the Springfield Union reported in 1982 that Merrick’s was believed to be the last fatal snakebite in the state. Later research by William Meuse, however, uncovered a second instance—a man who died from a serpent bite on May 1, 1778, also recorded in Wilbraham’s town records.

Scholarly Debate and Variations

Folklorists have long debated the ballad’s origins. Scholar Phillips Barry argued that the song likely did not exist before 1825, but Tristram Coffin later disputed that claim, suggesting it could have descended from earlier elegiac verse inspired by Merrick’s death.

The story has since taken many forms. It appears in theatrical performances and countless lyrical variations under alternate titles such as Ballad of Springfield Mountain, The Springfield Ballad, The Pesky Sarpent, The Pizing Sarpent, The Story of Timothy Mirick, and Elegy on the Young Man Bitten by a Rattlesnake. Spellings of Merrick’s surname also differ—appearing as Mirick, Myrick, or Mettick in various renditions.

The Stebbins and “Molly Type” Versions

One notable variation, recorded in Rufus Stebbins’ Historical Address from the Wilbraham Centennial Celebration of 1863, is believed to be close to the original version. Stebbins, whose family later owned the farmland where the tragedy occurred, attributed the lyrics to Nathan Torrey, though he noted that later authors had “tampered” with the original words.

Another variant, collected by C.M. Cobb and published in Helen Flanders’s The New Green Mountain Songster, introduced a more melodic and theatrical structure. In this so-called “Molly type” version, the characters are renamed Tommy Blake and Molly Bland. The story ends even more tragically: Molly tries to save her beloved by sucking out the poison, but she too dies after the venom enters through a decayed tooth.

A portion of that version reads:

On Springfield Mountain there did dwellA comely youth, ’tis known full wellNow Molly had a ruby lipWith which the poison she did sip.She also had a rotten toothIn which it struck, and killed them both.

Woody Guthrie’s Rendition

The song’s enduring power reached well beyond New England. Folk legend Woody Guthrie included it on his album Woody Guthrie Sings Folk Songs, performing it alongside Sonny Terry, Cisco Houston, and Bess Hawes. Guthrie recalled that his mother had sung the tune to him during his childhood. His lively rendition included playful nonsense syllables in the chorus, preserving the rhythm and humor often found in early American folk:

A nice young man-wa-wa-wa-wan lived on aAnd a nice young man-wa-wa-wa-wan, and ICome a rood-i rood, a rood-i rood-i ray.

Another celebrated interpretation came from Burl Ives, whose warm baritone helped bring traditional American ballads to a wide audience. His version of On Springfield Mountain appeared on the album The Wildside of Life: 35 Original Folk Classics, further cementing the song’s place among the nation’s most beloved and enduring folk traditions.

Legacy

More than two and a half centuries later, On Springfield Mountain remains a haunting reminder of a true-life tragedy that became immortalized through song. From Wilbraham’s quiet fields to stages and folk collections across America, Timothy Merrick’s story endures as one of the nation’s earliest and most poignant ballads, where history, tragedy, and folklore intertwine.

C. M. COB of Woodstock