DEATH OF JABEZ OLMSTEAD

OF PITTSFORD, VERMONT

“Goshen”, by Nathan Capen

Goshen, containing 13,000 acres, and two gores in Caledonia county, of 2,828 and 7,339 acres, was chartered, by the legislature of this state, to John Powell, Wm. Douglas, and 65 others, Feb. 2, 1792, and rechartered to the same, Nov. 1, 1798. The meeting for the organization of the town was held on the 29th of March 1814, at the dwelling house of Simeon C. Davis; presided over by Henry Olin, Esq., of Leicester. At this time there were but 17 families in town. Jabez Omsted was the first settler, in March 1807; Nathan Capen was the first town clerk;  (ed. note, writer of this article, or a son?) Jabez Omsted, March 1807, had put up the body of a small log-house, and moved his family. His wife had been sick for some time; but, such was his anxiety to be on his land in the sugar season, with the assistance of three other men he brought his wife on a bed, and took up their abode in a log-hut, without a floor, rafter, or roof, save a few boards and brush to cover their beds, and shelter them from the storms of the inclement season. Such accommodation for a sick person must have been anything but inviting. Omsted, at this time, was past middle age; had lost his property, and came here in debt, hoping to retrieve his broken fortune. With the assistance of his son Jonathan, he succeeded in clearing a few acres; worked hard, and fared harder, till his creditors thought best to close the concern. At that time the civil process ran in this wise: "And, for the want thereof, take his body." It did not require a very rigid scrutiny of Omsted's effects to satisfy the officer that the body must pay the debt. So Omsted was taken from his family and incarcerated in jail, at Middlebury. He soon obtained the limits of the yard; but the time he was compelled by law to stay was too long for any other purpose than to prove that imprisonment for debt was but the relic of a barbarous age. In this case, it was too well exemplified. He wrote to his family, (ed. note, he's not illiterate) saying, on a certain Saturday night, he would be at home. When that Saturday night came, his family watched with the greatest anxiety for his return; the children often running out, while day lasted, to see if there was any appearance of their father; and, after dark, listening to every sound in their eager anxiety to greet him.  The mother would walk short distances in the direction she expected him to come, making it her rule not to go beyond sight of the house. Saturday night, to Mr. Omsted's family, wore off drearily. He did not come. There was a lurking feeling that possibly he might be sick; but hope sought to alleviate their fears by suggesting the probability that he had stayed on the road to attend meeting on the Sabbath. So they waited patiently on through the day. Monday brought a dreary east wind and snow-storm, which rendered traveling almost impossible. While Mrs. Omsted was preparing breakfast, a stranger knocked at her door, and inquired for her. She said she knew that he brought tidings from Mr. Omsted, and, without farther preliminaries, asked if he was sick. His reply, was, Very sick. After a moment's pause, he added, He was alive when I came away, but there is no probability that you will ever see him alive. Mr. Omsted died the same morning that the messenger left. Preparations were made to bring him home for burial, that his family might have the cold satisfaction of looking on the lifeless form of that beloved husband and father; but, either through fear of having the debt transferred to the person who should remove him, or some unexplained cause, he was buried in Middlebury.

Extracted from the Vermont Historical Gazetteer: A Magazine, A History of Each Town, edited by Abby Maria Hemenway, Volume I, publ. Burlington, VT 1868 - p. 35-36