Punch made merry over the 'Exile and the Rock Limpet,' calling it 'The Duke of Wellington and the Shrimp (Seringapatam, early morning),' with another parody of the Fallacies:—
'And can it be, thou hideous imp,
That life is, ah! how brief, and glory but a shrimp!
(From an unpublished poem.)'
And remarked that:—
'The comet just rising above the cataract in the foreground, and the conflagration of Tippoo's widow in the Banyan forest by the sea-shore, are in the great artist's happiest manner.'
'Peace, Burial at Sea of the Body of Sir David Wilkie,' was a vision which Turner completely realised, the poetry, the pathos, the grandeur, the decorative splendour—all. The sails of the steamship are dark against the evening sky, as if in mourning, and amidships, in a blaze of torchlight, the body of Wilkie is being lowered to his watery grave. Stanfield, who saw the picture on Varnishing Day, thought the effect of the sails was 'untrue,' which, of course, they are, but Turner would not alter them. 'I only wish I had any colour to make them blacker,' said the old warrior.
From this picture of peace and solemnity I turn to the peace and loveliness of some 'smaller' water-colours of this, his sunset, period.
PLATE XXXIV. Peace. Burial at Sea of Sir David Wilkie (1842) Tate Gallery