The Last of England

Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery has been closed since 2020, first for covid, and since then for rewiring and other such things which, it turns out, in a building of its size and age, is fairly complicated. It is gradually heading towards reopening and over the summer one part of it hosted an exhibition of the "Victorian Radicals" which some of the Stories group headed to see one August afternoon. 

Once a teacher, always a teacher ... so I can never organise a trip that doesn't involve a task to do on the way around! I asked the group to each pick out their favourite piece, and we gathered at the the end to compare notes and describe what we had chosen and why. Interestingly, there were almost no duplicates: we clearly have very varied artistic tastes! 

My own choice was "The Last of England" by Ford Madox Brown. 

The painting depicts a boat setting sail, leaving England, filled with people in search of a better life in Australia, featuring in the foreground a couple with their young child, barely visible, tucked inside the mother's shawl. 

To be honest, I don't think I could really call it my "favourite", at least not aesthetically: I definitely wouldn't want it on my wall. But nonetheless, it is the one I picked out. 

It's a painting I have stood in front of many times at the museum, and pointed out to many people. I'm still not sure whether I like it, really, but I find it strangely compelling and it always draws my eye. I used to discuss it with groups of ESOL students on trips from the Sanctuary. I did so again this summer with my Stories group friends: some of whom arrived here by boat in search of safety and the promise of a better life than the ones they left behind.

The people who get into small boats to try and reach Britain's shores do so because they believe in the promise of safety, freedom and human rights to be found on the other side. They are, in my experience, not naïve about the risks involved, and yet they make a judgement that it is still worth it.  

Likewise for the family in the painting, and the thousands of others like them who got into boats to escape Britain's shores, hoping that somewhere else held the promise of a better life. They too faced grave risks but chose or felt forced to do so, leaving behind all they had ever known to travel half way round the world in an era where there was no turning back. 

For many who arrive here, I know that what they find on arrival doesn't entirely live up to what they hoped and dreamt. I suspect the same was true for many who headed to Australia and America and elsewhere in Ford Madox Brown's day.  

But here we are.

Even though I wouldn't want it on my living room wall, I picked out "The Last of England" for its reminder that people always have and always will migrate and that I believe that (while I'd like people to be able to do so in ways that are far safer) the principle of migration is something to be celebrated not stopped. I chose it for its reminder that whatever the the pain and risks it involves, people will always find the courage to follow their dreams for the promise of a better tomorrow. It is part of being human and something in which we should rejoice: shouldn't we want people to strive for the very best for themselves and their children, qualities which, in other contexts, are admired and revered? I chose it for its reminder that there will always be boats: and for those of us who are lucky enough not to have ever felt we've had no choice but to get in one in order to live our life in safety and freedom, our responsibility is to offer as warm as possible a welcome to those who have.