When Did You Last See Your Father By William Frederick Yeames. From The World's Greatest Paintings, Published By Odhams Press, London, 1934. Poster Print (20 x 10)

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The critic of The Saturday Review was one of the few who thought Yeames had failed to reach the standard required in either his conception or execution of this work:

The book is made up of numerous anecdotes of his father’s behavior and how he ofen took advantage of of his long-suffering wife and embarrassed children. Morrison writes: “ I know the contradictions are there: the unsnobbish protector and defender of ‘ordinary decent folk’ had his big house, his Merc, his live-in maid, and was acutely aware of his social status; the sentimental family man could be a bully and tyrant; the open-hearted extrovert had a trove of secrets and hang-ups. . . What would my father’s life have been without these little scams and victories? Not his life, anyway. What will my life be like without his stories of them? Not mine.”

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The Times was much more complimentary in its remarks, praising both the painting's conception and execution: They chat and dither, awkward about getting on with moving the body, perhaps expecting me not to be here. They ask whether I want little white drapes - see, like this, stapled against the side - to conceal his pyjamas: they know no one is likely to come and see him in the Chapel of Rest, but if anyone does we won't mind if the coffin is open, will we, and these drapes may be more discreet. They take the lid off to show me his resting place: there is nothing plush about it, no purple velvet, no fancy panelling or inlay, just some white-cotton-lined foam under the head, plain and cheap as he'd have wanted. The phone goes, and they look at me, thinking this will be their chance to get the body in unobserved, but I keep jabbering and let it ring until it stops. I've been waiting for this moment, I'm not going to let him out of my sight. Elaine Cassidy was nominated for the Irish Film & Television Award for Best Actress in a Supporting Film Role but lost to Saoirse Ronan in Atonement. Yeames was inspired to paint the picture to show the crises that could arise from the natural frankness of young children. Here, if the boy tells the truth he will endanger his father, but if he lies he will go against the ideal of honesty undoubtedly instilled in him by his parents.

From the sixteenth to the nineteenth century, a sergeant always carried a halberd, therefore we know that the man in the picture is the sergeant who has arrested the family.

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I hug him a moment, then sit beside the bed in a small plastic chair. He isn't pale - the old tanned ruddiness is there - but his Bournville-dark eyes have lost their light, and his head is pushed slightly forward, like a tortoise's from its shell. After a change in the fortunes of his family, Yeames moved to London in 1848, where he learnt anatomy and composition from George Scharf and took art lessons from F. A. Westmacott. In 1852 he journeyed to Florence where he studied with Enrico Pollastrini and Raphael Buonajuti. During his time there he painted at the Life School at the Grand Ducal Academy, drawing from frescoes by Andrea del Sarto, Ghirlandaio and Gozzoli. Continuing on to Rome, he painted landscape studies and copied Old Masters, including the frescoes of Raphael in the Vatican. This painting of a fictional event from the English Civil War (1642 - 1646) is perhaps the most popular work in the Walker Art Gallery. It shows a Royalist house under occupation by Parliamentarians. The young boy is being interrogated as to the whereabouts of the master of the house. Behind him, a soldier gently holds the boy's crying sister. To the left can be seen the children's mother, her fear and anxiety at the boy's possible answer written in her face.

There are to be no more moments of lucidity, no more conversations, only the look of him all afternoon and evening: the stubble, the left eye half-open, the head sunk on his chest until some word in whatever anecdote we are trying to engage him with - my train journey up, my mother's dealings with the gardener - seems to catch and snag for a second, to trip some not always related words of his own, then to ratchet away hopelessly into space again. My mother’s fear of the chaos she’ll inherit is understandable, though I know she is really saying something else. She dreads the paperwork because paper will soon be all that remains of him.”I watch my father rise moon-slow to walk to the bathroom, his ankles swelling like loaves from his felt moccasin slippers, twice their usual size, his slender calves bloated, as if everything he drank had sloshed straight down to his ankles. Out of breath, he reaches the bathroom door and gently closes it behind him. All Parliamentarian soldiers therefore wore yellow sashes during battle so that they could easily spot members of their own army. W. F. Yeames fills the place of distinction in this part of the room with a capitally conceived subject representing five Roundheads – commissioners and soldiers of the Long Parliament – in a manor house, seated in solemn conclave round a table, questioning the inmates as to the whereabouts of the Royalist owner. The little boy, in pale blue dress, who is now being examined, with his little sister crying behind him, and his mother and aunt tremblingly anxious in the distance, is the scion of the house, and we know before he speaks that a clear, frank answer will ring out to the insinuating question, "And when did you last see your father?" Mr. Yeames did quite right in not making the presiding commissioner a truculent-looking man. We like the picture very much, even if the perspective is proved to be mathematically wrong. [167] Morrison comments that friends and contemporaries have written moving elegies for their fathers, and if he had wanted to, he could have done the same, emphasizing his father’s long service as a doctor in the community. But what he wants to do is really “see” his father with both his virtues and his faults.