Long before steel trusses and concrete abutments spanned the Connecticut River, the town of Barnet, Vermont relied on something far simpler — and far more personal — to stay connected to the wider world: the ferry.

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Barnet’s position along the river made it both fortunate and isolated. The Connecticut was a highway for trade and travel, but it was also a barrier. For farmers, merchants, and families on the Vermont side, getting across meant waiting for the ferryman — and trusting both the boat and the river.

Records show that authorized ferries operated in Barnet by the 1790s, linking the town with settlements on the New Hampshire shore. These ferries were licensed by the state and often operated by local families who lived near the landing. They carried everything: wagons, livestock, barrels of goods, mail, and people heading to market, court, or church.

The work was steady but demanding. Ferrymen rose early, watched river levels closely, and worked by daylight. Ice in winter and high water in spring could halt crossings entirely. During those times, Barnet was effectively cut off — a reminder that the river both sustained and controlled life here. Toll rates were posted and regulated, and disputes over crossings occasionally made their way into town records.

Ferry landings became informal centers of activity. Roads converged there. Taverns and stores often sprang up nearby. News crossed the river as often as goods did, and the ferry was where word spread first — who was traveling, who was trading, who was arriving from afar. For many residents, the ferry was the first place they encountered people from outside their immediate community.

By the early 19th century, pressure grew for something more permanent. Population increased, commerce expanded, and dependence on a single boat began to feel risky. When bridges finally replaced ferries later in the century, they didn’t just speed travel — they changed Barnet’s relationship with the river. What had once been a waiting place became a crossing point, open at all hours and in all seasons.

Yet for decades, the ferry defined daily rhythm. It shaped road placement, settlement patterns, and the pace of life. Even after bridges arrived, older residents continued to refer to places by their old ferry names — a sign of how deeply the practice had rooted itself in memory.

Today, standing along the Connecticut in Barnet, it’s easy to overlook that quieter era. The water moves steadily past, crossed without a second thought. But there was a time when every trip across required patience, cooperation, and a nod to the ferryman who knew the river better than anyone else.

It wasn’t dramatic history. No speeches were made. No monuments were raised. But for southern Caledonia County, the ferry years were the connective tissue — the everyday work that kept Barnet linked to its neighbors and its future.

Sources
• History of Barnet, Vermont, town histories and early settlement records
• Vermont State Papers, early ferry licenses and transportation references
• Vermont Historical Society, publications on early Connecticut River crossings
• History of Caledonia County, Vermont, county historical compilations

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