By the beginning of 1814 Solomon was approaching completion, but the
artist had been reduced to living for a fortnight on potatoes. He had
now been nearly four years without a commission, and three without any
help from home, so that it is not surprising to learn that he felt
completely broken down in body and mind, or that his debts amounted to
L1100. A frame was procured on credit, and, failing any more suitable
place of exhibition, the picture was sent to the Water-colour Society.
At the private view, the Princess of Wales and other eminent critics
pronounced against the Solomon, but as soon as the public were
admitted, the tune changed, and John Bull vowed it was the finest work
of art ever produced in England. If posterity has not indorsed this
judgment, the Solomon is at least regarded, by competent critics, as
Haydon's most successful work. 'Before the doors had been open half an
hour,' writes Haydon, 'a gentleman opened his pocket-book, and showed
me a L500 note. "Will you take it?" My heart beat--my agonies of want
pressed, but it was too little. I trembled out, "I cannot." The
gentleman invited me to dine, and when we were sitting over our wine,
agreed to give me my price. His lady said, "But, my dear, where am I
to put my piano?" and the bargain was at an end!' On the third day Sir
George Beaumont and Mr. Holwell Carr came to the Exhibition, having
been deputed to buy the picture for the British Gallery. While they
were discussing its merits, one of the officials went over, and put
'sold' on the frame, whereupon the artist says he thought he should
have fainted. The work had been bought at the price asked, L700, by
two Plymouth bankers, Sir William Elford (the friend and correspondent
of Miss Mitford) and Mr. Tingecombe.

Poor Haydon now thought that his fortune was secure. He paid away L500
to landlord and tradesmen in the first week, and though this did not