Susan Mary Margaret Wightt, PART II. I'm touched as I post this with how young some of the sisters of the past were when they died. Mary Margaret was only 20.
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The companion spoken of in the last installment, to whom Mary Margaret Wightt had been so attached in the school and who later became a religious, was made the head of the Novices about three months after Mary Margaret entered the novitiate, bringing Mary Margaret much joy. She demonstrated the sincerity of her love for her dear companion and now Mistress. For the Mistress’s part, she took every opportunity to instruct her pupil, particularly in points of humility and obedience. One day she sent Mary Margaret to the wardrobe to bring her an old garment. Mary Margaret didn’t hear the word old, however, so she brought the very best one she could find, for she felt nothing was too good for her dear Mistress. The Novice Director took this opportunity to humble her Novice, telling her she was still far from having the true spirit of poverty, and that vanity yet reigned in her heart. She instructed Mary Margaret to go straight back and bring her the very worst she could find. The humble Novice did this without offering the smallest excuse to justify what she had done.
She was a true example of obedience, humility, and charity, and she took greater pleasure from obliging than from being obliged. She showed much deference toward her superiors, viewing God in them, particularly in our beloved spiritual Father.
She was made Mistress of Novices in December, 1820, a task for which she was well qualified because of her piety, zeal for regular observance, and other amiable qualities. Alas, however, she developed consumption in early May, 1821. The last sacraments were administered to her by our worthy spiritual Father, “but God, who delights in purifying his elect, was pleased to keep this his spouse on her bed of suffering still some time.” During this interval she showed both meekness and good humor. In fact, she was so gay and cheerful that some thought she might recover. Her Director, one of the sisters, observed that she coughed with much difficulty. This sister even she wished that she could cough for her—a remark that made Mary Margaret smile, and to which she replied, “My dear Sister, do you not know that the brides in former times were accustomed to wear no other garlands on the day of their nuptials than those which they themselves had previously gathered and arranged in due order?” She was full of such spiritual thoughts, and with these fervent comments she continued to inspire the sisters around her. She made many pleasant observations and she laughed heartily with everyone, but she always spoke of the country to which she was going. She had received enough relief from the Last Rites to give her sisters time to observe many proofs of her true and lively faith, piety, and holy liberty of spirit. Because of this delay they felt the loss even more when she died on July 18, 1821, about mid-day. She was 20 years old, and had been four years in her profession, with the rank of choir sister.
This is the last in our mini-series about Sister Ann Catherine Rigden. We hope our readers have enjoyed these accounts. Stay tuned for more historical accounts from the archives.
Fr. Clorivière visited her every day, and his presence cheered and revived her. He had a particular gift for speaking to her in the most consoling terms. In those days one received Holy Communion only with the permission of the spiritual director, and the communicant was required to refrain from all food and water after midnight. Ann Catherine would not drink during the night even when it troubled her, for she cared more for her soul. Five days before her death, Fr. Clorivière decided she should be given the Viaticum; two days after giving her the sacrament, he administered extreme unction. Each time the whole community surrounded her bedside, and since she could not speak loudly enough to be heard by everyone, she asked Fr. Clorivière to express her sentiments to them, including again asking pardon, and assuring them all of her affection. She often recommended the love of God above all things, and now in a better fashion than she had ever done previously, even from the most profound humility. The sisters concluded she must have been most agreeable to God, since she seemed to have been assisted in a supernatural manner. Although the sisters observed many examples of this supernatural gift, they hesitated to write all of them down out of fear of not being believed. Instead, they asked Fr. Clorivière to tell the story in his own words, one that would show how much they were indebted to Ann Catherine for building the church that was begun six months before her death, and that would tell of her dedication and tender devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
A gentleman called on her during the last weeks of her life. The sisters told him she was sick, but he asked for permission to see her before either her death or his. She was too ill and unable to grant his request. Everyone wondered who he was. It was only then that she told father Clorivière the circumstances that she had kept secret until then except from Leonard Neale himself. This was the man to whom she had once been engaged (see part two). Although her family long ago feared he had committed suicide, it happily was not the case.
After having endured nearly 14 months of sickness, her strength failed, and she came to the end surrounded by the community. She entreated Fr. Clorivière not to leave her during these last moments, and she cried out to Jesus, Mary and Joseph, to the Sacred Heart, and the Sacred Wounds as long as she could speak. She took her last breath at 11:00 on the morning of December 21, 1820. She was buried the next day under the church, in Tomb 3, after the sisters adorned her body with the finest flowers.
Her two natural sisters were present at her interment, for they had recently converted to Catholicism. They sobbed at the sight of her countenance that was still so sweet. The church was not yet finished, so they stood on a scaffolding above the basement and viewed her through the tiles of the floor. Her mother, who had also lately been converted thanks probably to Ann Catherine’s intercession and prayers, expressed full expectation that God who had been so generous to her during her mortal life would not fail to give her a reward for her virtues, which the community endeavored to imitate.
...and the second-to-last in our series of Sister Anne Catherine ...
In the beginning of November 1820, Mother Ann Catherine Rigden developed an inflammatory disease that caused everyone great alarm. She had abscesses on her breast and other disturbing symptoms. Dr. Beaty, the monastery physician, thought there was no immediate danger, but Sr. Mary Leonard McNantz, who was ill and expected to die soon, prophesied that Ann Catherine “was never to recover from this sickness, that she would get better for a while and go about a little, but that finally she would die of it.” She repeated this twice in different company, which increased the sisters’ alarm. They prayed and said many novenas for Ann Catherine’s recovery, and in the spring she did attempt to resume work. “Alas, however,” the constant cough returned, along with pain in her chest, and a slow, burning fever. She continued to work, but by fall she lost her remaining strength. She concealed the symptoms of her decline, and sometimes after a particularly bad night she would forbid the sister who stayed in her room to say anything about it. This left the poor sister at a loss about what to say if asked how Mother was doing. Whenever she wanted to get help for Mother during a bad night, Ann Catherine would exhort her not to “disturb the spouses of Christ, for whom we should have great respect.”
Toward the end of November it became evident that she would die soon, but she didn’t express the least concern except for her apprehension of God’s judgment, “not on account of any sin which I have committed in the world, nor whilst I was a simple religious, but since I have been Superior.” She humbled herself with much sincerity before all the community, begging pardon of anyone whom she thought she might have afflicted. Sometimes she would send a sister in her name to ask pardon when she was unable to get up and do it herself, and she would ask the sister to do so in the most humble manner. She spoke to everyone with heartfelt gratitude for the care she received, and she reproached herself for any uncharitable or rash judgment she may have formed against any of them.
Holy Thursday
5:00pm Mass of the Lord’s Supper
7.30pm Night Prayer
Adoration until Midnight
Good Friday
7.30am Office of Readings
8.45am Morning Prayer
11.00am Daytime Prayer
3.00 Commemoration of the Lord’s Passion
7.00pm Night Prayer
Holy Saturday
7.30am Office of Readings
8.45am Morning Prayer
11.30am Daytime Prayer
5.05pm Evening Prayer
8.00pm Vigil Mass of the Lord’s Resurrection
In the Holy Night of Easter
All events underlined in bold take place in the Chapel of the Sacred Heart. All Liturgies of the Hours take place in the Monastery Choir, just down the ramp from the chapel. Please arrive a few minutes prior to the time listed, as we do not ring bells during the Sacred Triduum.
This is the ante-penultimate installment in our series about Sister Ann Catherine Rigden.
Ann Catherine Rigden worked as mistress of boarding students, who were drawn to her talents and sweet manners. She taught them many little practices of devotion, as the sister who wrote her life recalled from her own youth. Ann Catherine was especially close to Sister Isidora McNantz, who died at age 15 about three years before Ann Catherine’s death. She performed the last office for Isidora--meaning she placed her in her coffin--and she twice felt pressure on her hand from the hand of the deceased. The first time it alarmed her somewhat, but the second time it seemed fond, “either a remembrance of some compact of prayers, or as a last token of affection.” Some nuns said later that the incident might have been a harbinger of Ann Catherine’s own death not too long after, but this touch did not disturb her peace, for she had no other desire in life than being closely united with God.
She did all the most useful and laborious jobs in the house except the role of Superior, which she did not desire. Since 1800 there had been only one Superior, Teresa Lalor, whom the sisters called “the cornerstone of this house.” But an election was required at the Ascension of 1819, and “Ann Catherine Rigden became our mother, to the great joy of the whole community.” This especially pleased the sisters who had previously been her boarding students. This was a delicate time for the community, as the sisters were just getting acquainted with the rules of the Visitation as Clorivière interpreted them. However, Mother Ann Catherine’s health began to decline noticeably.
