Montgomery County sentinel., 1891-12-11
Death of an Esiimahle Ladv -Mr

| Catharine l.. Bowie died at her late homt
near this place, on Monday morning last
in the eighty fourth year of her age, after 8
long and tedious sickness The deceased
was daughter Of the late Gen. Ohio Hol
land Williams, of Hagerstown, Maryland
and came to this town in May, 1888, as the
bride Of the late Chief.Justice Richard J.
Bowie, who was at that time promising
young lawyer.
In the death of Mrs. Bowie familiar and
cherished face-a lady OF rare accomplish.
ments combined with noble traits of miH
and heart-passes away forever from our
midst. And now that she has fallen to sleep
we hasten TO speak briefly of life that has
been as beautiful as it has been attractive
and useful.
Hers indeed was noble character. Those
who were nearest and dearest to her rested
with perfect trust upon her true heartand
constant arm, ever ready and willing in the
performance of every duty in all the rela-
tions of life. Beyond the limits of her i'm.
mediate home she ever demonstrated those
virtues which the Master has placed highest
in the Christian character. She visited the
sick, listened to the petitions of the poor,
helped the needy, sheltered the roofless, fed
the hungry, pitied the weak and opened
wide her doors to every passing stranger
And let the world say what it will, these
virtues plant on earth the golden ladder
which reaches up to heaven.
Naturally cheerful, she made every one
she met feel bright and joyful. With the
young she was never so happy as when she
made every countenance radiant with
smile and every heart ring with joy.
Fond of the beautiful in nature, she
studied nature-she knew the whereabout of
every wild flower, and gathered them with
the first blush of Spring. She knew the
note of every bird in the forest and caught its
earliest songs, as she sought the soft and
sunny places that she might catch their last
notes ere they left for the land where song
and shadow ever blend. To her there was
music in the ripple of every stream-there
was sentiment in every picturesque land
scape, there was poetry in the deep murmur
which is never hushed in the solitude of ma
ture, as there was language in the mocking
long.ago.
She loved music as she loved the sunshine,
and its soltest melodies gathered around her
as the gold of evening meets the dusk Of
night henaath tho aiIpnt STARE
Books were her constant companions, be-
cause she loved the beautiful in all its phases,
and those authors were studied that por.
trayed not alone the enchanting warblings
of every poetic thought, but which at the
same reading gave strength and growth to
every sentiment that purified the soul and
lifted it in the direction of its God,
II she loved the sunny side of the stream
of life, she never hesitated to seek its dark
places, il in doing 50 she could soften sorrow
or wipe away the tear from the cheek of the
wrctched and the afflicted. Her whole life
was noble one
"You may break, you may ruin the vase if
you will
But the scent of the roses will linger around
it STILL"
So about the broken fragments Of the golden
bowl of her Lille and along the raveled fibres
of its oosened silver cord will linger still
the sweet perfume of her gentle loving
nature, her generous sympathetic heart, her
silent but ever watchful charity.
In the spot she loved so well, on which
she had looked through so many golden
dreamy happy hours and in whose silent
and hallowed embrace rests the remains Of
one whose life she had blessed and whose
death she had so constantly mourned, by
his side, all that was left of this good and
estimable lady were placed to rest. The
days may be long-the nights may be
black-the winter winds will shrek and
howl over the bleak and desolate fields
give forth its untutored melody-howers
will bloom and wither, birds will come and
sing and leave-the seasons will come and
go, but the measure of her life has been
reached-the soul is with its God.
And now as memory comes leaping DER
the pillows Of the past, we are reminded Of
that beautiful country homestead, whose
hospitality we have so often enjoyed, where
cluster 30 many of the rosest hours OF our
Grst Eanhood-into these silent halls, hush
ed save by the sob of sorrow-sad and
gloomy in the presence of death, we would
enter and offer our heartfelt sympathy.