Clara McNaughton Poem # 3: Waiting At The Portals

Clara's only daughter Eva was only 11 years old when she died in June of 1884. The housekeeper was cleaning, and picked up an old musket that had not been used in many years. Unknowing the weapon was loaded, she pointed it at Eva joking that she was going to shoot her, and pulled the trigger.  Eva died instantly in front of the whole family. I cannot even imagine the horror the family must have felt at that moment. I have used the word 'tragic' in past posts, but that does not even begin to describe it. 

Waiting At The Portals 

Here at the portals now I stand and wait

The welcome call that bade me come to thee.

Then hasten Lord, fling wide that solemn gate

And set my fainting, struggling spirit free.

For closed and firm those lofty portals stand

Solid and grim, held by an unseen hand.

My feet are weary, Lord, the road was steep

And stumbling oft my cross I weakly bore.

I fain would rest me at my Savior's feet

In that blest land where sorrow is no more.

But closed and firm those lofty portals stand

Solid and grim, held by an unseen hand.

I long to quit this sordid, mortal frame

And from all earthly cares and griefs be free.

Thy great and gracious promises to claim

For one who comes with contrite heart to thee.

But closed and firm those lofty portals stand.

Solid and grim, held by an unseen hand.

I long to see a ray of Heavenly light

I long to hear a burst of Heavenly song

I long to see the forms who walk in white

My love and lost among the happy throng.

But closed and firm those lofty portals stand.

Solid and grim, held my an unseen hand.

~by Clara McNaughton

This final poem is so much grimmer than the previous poems: It is missing the glimpse of the happy memories, as well as the hope. Surrounded by so many deaths, she must have wondered how much more a person could take. Maybe her grandchildren born around this time brought her some peace. 

The next set of blogs will focus on her granddaughter Harriet Viola McNaughton, my Nanny.

Clara McNaughton Poem # 2: The Twins

In 1879, Clara gave birth to twin boys: Keith Francis and Kenneth Angus.  Death struck again, this time with scarlet fever.  Keith was less than a year old, and Kenneth followed at a year and a half. 

I remember my mother reading me this poem when I was young, though I didn't grasp how sad it was at the time: It was without the context of a son already loss, nor the losses to come.

The Twins

Ma will help her babies, she will loosen all their clothes,

And will put some sugar on, where the biggest pink one grows.

Now hold fast my darlings, in each mouth away it goes.

What a lovely site to see to see, two babies suck their toes.

Who owns all these pretty things I see?

They belong to the twins and the twins belong to me.

Ma has two little babies to cuddle, and to please

She has two little darlings to hug and kiss and squeeze.

And sometimes in the somewhere when cut up their little pranks

There will be two little naughties to spank.

Who owns all these pretty things I see?

They belong to the twins and the twins belong to me.

A foolish mother fondly called them mine,

A loving Savior whispered, nay, not thine.

They are my treasure lent thee for a day,

I claim them now, they may no longer stay.

The mother weeps, yet knows the voice of God

And bows her head to humbly kiss the rod.

"Comfort me, Lord", her agonized prayer,

"Thou gavest me love and know how dear they were".

Two bright and shining forms by faith I see,

They are the twins in Heaven, they wait for me.

 ~ Clara McNaughton

I get a sense of Clara's delight in her baby boys from this poem, and can picture chubby feet in the air and her smiling down on them. However, it also speaks to her anguish and continues the theme of her faith in heaven. What a loss for her to experience: Three of her boys had died and she was only 39. However, the tragic deaths were not over: 10 years later, her fourth son, Duncan Alexander died at 17 years old from diabetes.  I wonder how this shaped the relationship with her remaining children?

McNaughton Background Summary

The first set of blogs centers around the McNaughton side of the family.  My Nanny (maternal grandmother) was a McNaughton, and much of what I have learned about this side of the family is from stories told by my mother Twink Akester. The source of the background information I am going to summarize is from the 1956 version of of "Our Family Tree And Its History" by Arnold McNaughton that was recently given to me.  His writings are also available online thanks to the efforts of Thomas Holmes. Since the details are available for you to read, below are the highlights I found most interesting.

Finlay McNaughton was born in 1780 in Letterfinlay. (Notice the last part of the town's name? I understand there was a naming pattern in Scotland based on locality. Though I have no confirmation this was the case for Finlay, it is probably a good guess!) As a young man Finlay trained in estate management at the Ross estate in Scotland. There he became close friends with John McFee, who married his oldest sister Catherine in 1800.  He also met his future wife Andria Black, a niece of the Ross's, and they married in 1807.

Towards the end of June 1821, the two friends - now family - left Scotland for North America on a sailboat with 14 children between them. They arrived in Quebec almost seven weeks later on August 21, 1821. They brought their Gaelic Bible with them, along with their Psalm book, and church certificates. Family worship would have been conducted in Gaelic.

Dunderave

Though the original plan was to settle in Ontario, after looking around Hemmingford Finlay bought most of the land between Hemmingford and Covey Hill. He decided to build on a property with a brook running through it.  An old log house on the site housed both families until Finlay built a new stone home that he called "Dunderave" after the ancestral castle in Scotland.  It took five years to build the home that he modeled in the style he knew from Scotland, with walls that were up to three feet thick in places. (Twink confirmed this piece of information; She has been in the home - at one point it was purchased by the first cousin of my father J.A. Henri Lemieux. Interesting twist!) 

Finlay and Andria were known to locals as "Uncle and Aunt Mack". They had 11 children, including a set of twins.  (In looking through the family tree, the number of twins noted in 130 years was 21, with the last set counted in 1951. I wonder how many there have been since?) Their youngest son was named after his father: Finlay. (I really love this name and wish someone in the family would use Finlay for their son.) 

Meet the McNaughtons: If you are interested in more information on the clan or the family tree, please see the links on the right.

Clarissa Abigail Proper a.k.a Clara McNaughton Poem # 1

Clara McNaughton was born in Hemmingford, Quebec on August 21, 1841.  She married Finlay McNaughton in 1864. They had 8 children. The eldest was William, who married Jane Latham. Their youngest daughter, Harriet Viola, was my Nanny.  Nanny referred to Clara as "Grandma McNaughton", however in the community she was known as "Aunt Clara". 

Clara and Finlay's second son, George Finlay McNaughton was born in 1867. He died at 9 years old from the measles. Clara expressed her grief at the loss of her son through poetry. The only record of her poetry that I am aware of is in my Nanny's handwriting, and is undated.


The following poem is untitled.

Cruel snow! So soft and light

You fall like lead on my heart tonight,

For you cover the ground.

And falling so still and white

You cruelly hide a mother's sight,

A little mound.

A little mound in the graveyard old

Lies hidden beneath your icy fold,

I see it not.

You bar my steps from wandering free

To that little spot so dear to me,

That scared spot. 

It is only a year ago today

At the window I watched the children play,

As snow came down. 

And a little boy in a suit of gray

Ran up and down with his little sleigh,

On the icy ground.

He shouted and ran in mirthful glee

And merrily tossed the flakes at me,

Of pure white snow.

And now and then as my darling passed

With his rosy face he pressed to the glass,

All health aglow.

O! God of Heaven can it be,

That little face not more I'll see?

Yes even so.

My darling boy is laid to rest

The earth is heaped above his breast,

Under the snow. 

A year later the following lines were added to the poem:

The snow has come again, but hark!

A something whispered to my heart

Dispels the gloom.

Winter will pass and spring shall come,

Blest sigh of Resurrection morn

Beyond the tomb.

Your darling boy happy awaits

Your coming at the pearly gates  

When life is o'er.

One of your flock is safe from harm

Folded within the Shepard's arm

To roam no more.  

~by Clara McNaughton

Clara's poem expresses not only her grief, but her faith. In the first half, you can feel the upset, but in the addition a year later she seems to be comforting herself with her belief that she will see her son in heaven. 

I can only imagine the depression after the loss of a child.  Though it was more prevalent in those times due to childhood diseases, was it more expected? Even if it was, I don't believe that would diminish the pain. Sadly, 4 years later Clara experienced more loss...