Mrs. Jacob Branning, Sr.
There is no barrier that death does not surmount, or over which its path does not stretch; age and youth, both alike, tremble under it; for each must furnish it its victims. There is nothing for which it stops its work; there is nothing at which it stays its hand. It stops not for age, greatness or distinction; no more for youth, or the frailest thing of earth. Its drink are tears; its meat, sighs; its raiment, sackcloth and ashes. For these it works with relentless hand, sparing none.
Fifteen minutes after two, Wednesday afternoon, the 10th last, it closed the career of the long and eventful life of Mrs. Lany Eleanor Branning, widow of the late Jacob Branning, Sr., who died Jan. 28, 1867, at her late residence in Ketchall, Wayne Co.; and although she lacked only fifty-seven days of the great age of ninety, yet she still retained her mental faculties to the last, picking out her own funeral text and hymns. She was born at the foot of Cochecton Falls, on what was known as the Thomas Flats in Damascus township, April 18, 1796, so that her life was of the generation of those which links us with the past, from the extreme darkness of which the world has, in her time, emerged into the effulgence of the present. She was one of those, as it were, who held the past by one hand, and the present by the other. She has lived from the age when the ox and the cart were among the fastest means of conveyance to this wonderful age of steam and electricity, by which men and thought speed to-day; the one almost in defiance of time, and the other bidding fair, to greatly lessen it still. But, thanks the days which tried souls to be christians have passed.
She was the daughter of Cornelius Lassley, Sr., who was drowned at the head of the rocks on the New York side entrance to the remarkable narrows of Big Eddy in the Delaware river, March 15, 1797, in the time of a flood, when she was scarcely eleven months old. She was one of four children by her father, her mother having married again, two daughters and two sons, of whom her sister Katie was the oldest and she the youngest. They all lived to a good age, but she to be the oldest.
September 7th, 1815, she married Jacob Branning, Sr., of Orange county, N.Y., who was a brother of the father of the late J. D. Branning, one of Delaware's most noted and successful lumbermen. By him she became the mother of thirteen children, twelve sons and a daughter, the oldest of whom is in his seventieth year. Of these, seven sons and her daughter survive her. [I only list eleven children-bbg]
Of grandchildren, she is the mother of 54; of great-grandchildren 47; of great-great-grandchildren 4; In all, of 118. She has been a widow for 19 years; kept house to her death, 71 years; was converted at the age of twelve; joined the Free-will Baptist church, at Cochecton, at fifteen; but afterwards, with her husband, joined the Methodist Episcopal, in the communion of which both lived and died.
Saturday, the 18th last, her remains were followed by a long train of mourning friends and neighbors from her late residence to the Methodist church in Narrowsburg, N.Y., where a most impressive and instructive sermon was preached from the text, (her own selection,) "Boast not thyself of tomorrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth," Prov's. 27, 1, by the Rev. Mr. Cole, of Narrowsburg, N.Y.; from whence they slowly journeyed to the little cemetery of the village, to join the side of those of her husband; where, after they were reverently lain by respectful hands, and the solemn and impressive services for the dead were performed, the aged couple were left to sweetly sleep until the resurrection morn.
There is no barrier that death does not surmount, or over which its path does not stretch; age and youth, both alike, tremble under it; for each must furnish it its victims. There is nothing for which it stops its work; there is nothing at which it stays its hand. It stops not for age, greatness or distinction; no more for youth, or the frailest thing of earth. Its drink are tears; its meat, sighs; its raiment, sackcloth and ashes. For these it works with relentless hand, sparing none.
Fifteen minutes after two, Wednesday afternoon, the 10th last, it closed the career of the long and eventful life of Mrs. Lany Eleanor Branning, widow of the late Jacob Branning, Sr., who died Jan. 28, 1867, at her late residence in Ketchall, Wayne Co.; and although she lacked only fifty-seven days of the great age of ninety, yet she still retained her mental faculties to the last, picking out her own funeral text and hymns. She was born at the foot of Cochecton Falls, on what was known as the Thomas Flats in Damascus township, April 18, 1796, so that her life was of the generation of those which links us with the past, from the extreme darkness of which the world has, in her time, emerged into the effulgence of the present. She was one of those, as it were, who held the past by one hand, and the present by the other. She has lived from the age when the ox and the cart were among the fastest means of conveyance to this wonderful age of steam and electricity, by which men and thought speed to-day; the one almost in defiance of time, and the other bidding fair, to greatly lessen it still. But, thanks the days which tried souls to be christians have passed.
She was the daughter of Cornelius Lassley, Sr., who was drowned at the head of the rocks on the New York side entrance to the remarkable narrows of Big Eddy in the Delaware river, March 15, 1797, in the time of a flood, when she was scarcely eleven months old. She was one of four children by her father, her mother having married again, two daughters and two sons, of whom her sister Katie was the oldest and she the youngest. They all lived to a good age, but she to be the oldest.
September 7th, 1815, she married Jacob Branning, Sr., of Orange county, N.Y., who was a brother of the father of the late J. D. Branning, one of Delaware's most noted and successful lumbermen. By him she became the mother of thirteen children, twelve sons and a daughter, the oldest of whom is in his seventieth year. Of these, seven sons and her daughter survive her. [I only list eleven children-bbg]
Of grandchildren, she is the mother of 54; of great-grandchildren 47; of great-great-grandchildren 4; In all, of 118. She has been a widow for 19 years; kept house to her death, 71 years; was converted at the age of twelve; joined the Free-will Baptist church, at Cochecton, at fifteen; but afterwards, with her husband, joined the Methodist Episcopal, in the communion of which both lived and died.
Saturday, the 18th last, her remains were followed by a long train of mourning friends and neighbors from her late residence to the Methodist church in Narrowsburg, N.Y., where a most impressive and instructive sermon was preached from the text, (her own selection,) "Boast not thyself of tomorrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth," Prov's. 27, 1, by the Rev. Mr. Cole, of Narrowsburg, N.Y.; from whence they slowly journeyed to the little cemetery of the village, to join the side of those of her husband; where, after they were reverently lain by respectful hands, and the solemn and impressive services for the dead were performed, the aged couple were left to sweetly sleep until the resurrection morn.
Mrs. Jacob Branning, Sr.
There is no barrier that death does not surmount, or over which its path does not stretch; age and youth, both alike, tremble under it; for each must furnish it its victims. There is nothing for which it stops its work; there is nothing at which it stays its hand. It stops not for age, greatness or distinction; no more for youth, or the frailest thing of earth. Its drink are tears; its meat, sighs; its raiment, sackcloth and ashes. For these it works with relentless hand, sparing none.
Fifteen minutes after two, Wednesday afternoon, the 10th last, it closed the career of the long and eventful life of Mrs. Lany Eleanor Branning, widow of the late Jacob Branning, Sr., who died Jan. 28, 1867, at her late residence in Ketchall, Wayne Co.; and although she lacked only fifty-seven days of the great age of ninety, yet she still retained her mental faculties to the last, picking out her own funeral text and hymns. She was born at the foot of Cochecton Falls, on what was known as the Thomas Flats in Damascus township, April 18, 1796, so that her life was of the generation of those which links us with the past, from the extreme darkness of which the world has, in her time, emerged into the effulgence of the present. She was one of those, as it were, who held the past by one hand, and the present by the other. She has lived from the age when the ox and the cart were among the fastest means of conveyance to this wonderful age of steam and electricity, by which men and thought speed to-day; the one almost in defiance of time, and the other bidding fair, to greatly lessen it still. But, thanks the days which tried souls to be christians have passed.
She was the daughter of Cornelius Lassley, Sr., who was drowned at the head of the rocks on the New York side entrance to the remarkable narrows of Big Eddy in the Delaware river, March 15, 1797, in the time of a flood, when she was scarcely eleven months old. She was one of four children by her father, her mother having married again, two daughters and two sons, of whom her sister Katie was the oldest and she the youngest. They all lived to a good age, but she to be the oldest.
September 7th, 1815, she married Jacob Branning, Sr., of Orange county, N.Y., who was a brother of the father of the late J. D. Branning, one of Delaware's most noted and successful lumbermen. By him she became the mother of thirteen children, twelve sons and a daughter, the oldest of whom is in his seventieth year. Of these, seven sons and her daughter survive her. [I only list eleven children-bbg]
Of grandchildren, she is the mother of 54; of great-grandchildren 47; of great-great-grandchildren 4; In all, of 118. She has been a widow for 19 years; kept house to her death, 71 years; was converted at the age of twelve; joined the Free-will Baptist church, at Cochecton, at fifteen; but afterwards, with her husband, joined the Methodist Episcopal, in the communion of which both lived and died.
Saturday, the 18th last, her remains were followed by a long train of mourning friends and neighbors from her late residence to the Methodist church in Narrowsburg, N.Y., where a most impressive and instructive sermon was preached from the text, (her own selection,) "Boast not thyself of tomorrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth," Prov's. 27, 1, by the Rev. Mr. Cole, of Narrowsburg, N.Y.; from whence they slowly journeyed to the little cemetery of the village, to join the side of those of her husband; where, after they were reverently lain by respectful hands, and the solemn and impressive services for the dead were performed, the aged couple were left to sweetly sleep until the resurrection morn.
There is no barrier that death does not surmount, or over which its path does not stretch; age and youth, both alike, tremble under it; for each must furnish it its victims. There is nothing for which it stops its work; there is nothing at which it stays its hand. It stops not for age, greatness or distinction; no more for youth, or the frailest thing of earth. Its drink are tears; its meat, sighs; its raiment, sackcloth and ashes. For these it works with relentless hand, sparing none.
Fifteen minutes after two, Wednesday afternoon, the 10th last, it closed the career of the long and eventful life of Mrs. Lany Eleanor Branning, widow of the late Jacob Branning, Sr., who died Jan. 28, 1867, at her late residence in Ketchall, Wayne Co.; and although she lacked only fifty-seven days of the great age of ninety, yet she still retained her mental faculties to the last, picking out her own funeral text and hymns. She was born at the foot of Cochecton Falls, on what was known as the Thomas Flats in Damascus township, April 18, 1796, so that her life was of the generation of those which links us with the past, from the extreme darkness of which the world has, in her time, emerged into the effulgence of the present. She was one of those, as it were, who held the past by one hand, and the present by the other. She has lived from the age when the ox and the cart were among the fastest means of conveyance to this wonderful age of steam and electricity, by which men and thought speed to-day; the one almost in defiance of time, and the other bidding fair, to greatly lessen it still. But, thanks the days which tried souls to be christians have passed.
She was the daughter of Cornelius Lassley, Sr., who was drowned at the head of the rocks on the New York side entrance to the remarkable narrows of Big Eddy in the Delaware river, March 15, 1797, in the time of a flood, when she was scarcely eleven months old. She was one of four children by her father, her mother having married again, two daughters and two sons, of whom her sister Katie was the oldest and she the youngest. They all lived to a good age, but she to be the oldest.
September 7th, 1815, she married Jacob Branning, Sr., of Orange county, N.Y., who was a brother of the father of the late J. D. Branning, one of Delaware's most noted and successful lumbermen. By him she became the mother of thirteen children, twelve sons and a daughter, the oldest of whom is in his seventieth year. Of these, seven sons and her daughter survive her. [I only list eleven children-bbg]
Of grandchildren, she is the mother of 54; of great-grandchildren 47; of great-great-grandchildren 4; In all, of 118. She has been a widow for 19 years; kept house to her death, 71 years; was converted at the age of twelve; joined the Free-will Baptist church, at Cochecton, at fifteen; but afterwards, with her husband, joined the Methodist Episcopal, in the communion of which both lived and died.
Saturday, the 18th last, her remains were followed by a long train of mourning friends and neighbors from her late residence to the Methodist church in Narrowsburg, N.Y., where a most impressive and instructive sermon was preached from the text, (her own selection,) "Boast not thyself of tomorrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth," Prov's. 27, 1, by the Rev. Mr. Cole, of Narrowsburg, N.Y.; from whence they slowly journeyed to the little cemetery of the village, to join the side of those of her husband; where, after they were reverently lain by respectful hands, and the solemn and impressive services for the dead were performed, the aged couple were left to sweetly sleep until the resurrection morn.
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