Last Saturday, September 20th, I had the opportunity to attend a noon Mass, concelebrated by three bishops, at St. Augustine’s Cemetery Chapel in South Boston, MA. It was held in honor of the first Catholic priest in Boston, Rev. Francis Anthony Matignon who died on September 19, 1818. By all accounts Father Matignon was much loved and even revered. After bravely fleeing France , he came to America in 1792 and faced a great deal of difficulty trying to establish the Catholic Church in Boston.
There were at that time about one hundred Catholics who would occasionally receive the sacraments from a visiting priest. With the arrival of Father Matignon these early Catholics finally had a priest. I am thrilled to be able to say that one of my ancestors, Stephen Roberts, was part of that original congregation. After much sacrifice the first Cathedral of the Holy Cross was dedicated in 1803. Records show that even President John Adams donated to the building fund. After helping to spread the faith and to oversee the growth of the Church in Boston, when Father Matignon died part of his obituary read: “…his memory is cherished by all who value learning, honour genius, or love devotion.”
I spoke to Bishop Dooher prior to the Mass as I wanted to tell him that one of my ancestors was a part of the early Catholic Church in Boston. I was very happy when in his homily the Bishop mentioned how one of the attendees had an ancestor who was a member of that first flock served by Father Matignon. It was a joy to know that Stephen Roberts was remembered and honored in this way. My heart is full of gratitude for the gift of faith and it is a gift so freely given by one generation to the next. To stand on the sacred ground of St. Augustines’s Cemetery and to try to remember and honor one’s heritage is a humbling experience.
As pleased as I was to attend the Mass I was even more anxious to investigate the cemetery and to see if I could find any memorials to several relatives who are buried there. These include my great, great grandfather, Owen McCabe, and my great aunt, Elizabeth McCabe, better known as Auntie Lizzie. I was not successful but I am hoping to find the location of their graves when the Archdiocese of Boston again makes its archives available sometime soon.
