26 SEPTEMBER 1931, Page 12

A Hundred Years Ago

THE " SPECTATOR," SEPTEMBER 24TH, 1831.

Ax EcoxoxicAL PAINTER.

I called upon D. [George Dawe, the Academician) to congratulate him. His pleasant housekeeper seemed embarrassed ; owned that her master was alone. But could be he spoken with ? With some importunity I prevailed upon her to usher me up into his painting- room. It was in Newman Street. At his easel stood D. with an immense spread of canvass before him, and by his side s.--live Goose. I inquired into this extraordinary combination. Under the rose he informed me, that he had undertaken to paint a trans- parency for Vauxhall, against an expected visit of the Allied Sovereigns to that place. I smiled at an engagement so derogatory to his new-born honours ; but a contempt of small gains was never one of D.'s foibles. My eyes beheld crude forms of warriors, kings, rising under his brush upon this interminable stretch of cloth. The Wolga, the Don, and the Nieper were there, or their representative River Gods ; and Father Thames clubbed urns with the Vistula. Glory with her dazzling Eagle was not absent, nor Fame, nor Victory. The shade of Rubens might have evoked the mighty allegories. But what was the Goose ? He was evidently sitting for a something. D. at last informed me, that having fixed upon a group of rivers, he could not introduce the Royal Thames without his swans—that he had inquired the price of a live swan, and it being more than he was prepared to give for it, he had bargained with the poulterer for the next thing to it ; adding significantly, that it would do to roast, after it had served its turn to paint swans by. Reader, this is a true story.—Charles Lamb, in the Englishman for September.