Attributed to Charles Philips
Portrait of Frederick, Prince of Wales (1707-51), early 18th century
Oil on canvas
26.5 x 17 in. (67.3 x 43.2 cm)
Philip Mould & Co.
To view all current artworks for sale visit philipmould.com Frederick, Prince of Wales, is one of the great might-have-beens of British history. The eldest son of George II (1683-1760),...
To view all current artworks for sale visit philipmould.com
Frederick, Prince of Wales, is one of the great might-have-beens of British history. The eldest son of George II (1683-1760), he spent much of his life as a king-in-waiting and his premature death meant that the potential of the court that he had built up around him went unrealised.
Frederick spent the majority of his childhood in the family heartland of Hanover. Following his accession in 1727, George attempted to keep his son deliberately distant so as to avoid the tensions that had marred his relationship with his own father when he was Prince of Wales. However, as Frederick grew older he yearned for greater independence and began to act with an autonomy that risked Hanoverian alliances.
Reluctantly, George reached the conclusion that it would be better to keep Frederick closer at hand and so at the end of 1728 he was whisked from a ball that he was attending in Hanover and taken – practically under the cover of darkness – to England where early the following year he was made Prince of Wales. As predicted, his relationship with his father began only to worsen. So as to limit his independence, George had granted Frederick only an exiguous allowance.
Frederick greatly desired a means of living in a state that was in keeping with his title of Prince of Wales. Inspired by the lavish patron of King Charles I, he sought to build up a court around him of the finest artistic taste. One of the figure who was the beneficiary of his patronage was Charles Philips, the artist of the present work.
Baptised in 1708, Charles Philips was likely taught to paint by his father Richard Philips, a minor portrait painter. Philips was one of the artists patronised by Frederick, Prince of Wales, an ambitious patron of the arts. George Vertue’s notebooks suggest that Philips had begun to receive royal patronage as early as 1731.[1] Vertue numbered him as one of an emerging crop of young British artists who had helped create an artistic culture in London that ‘flourishes more in London now than probably it has done 50 or 60 years before’. Other than talent, one factor uniting this group of artists – whose numbers included Philips, Gawen Hamilton and William Hogarth – was that they were, at around five feet high or less, extremely short, even by the standards of the time.[2]
Philips is known to have executed a number of other portraits of Frederick, but this is the only one that shows him standing in the outdoors. The grand architectural setting in which Frederick, who is shown wearing the Order of the Garter, which he received in 1716, stands seems not to show a specific complex of buildings but rather a more generalised palace setting; indeed, it could even hint at the architectural aspirations of the Prince – ‘pretty as a child’ in the words of one biographer – who was as forward-looking a patron of architecture as he was of art.[3]
In securing these parental funds, Frederick showed no restraint in using all of the leverage at his disposal, becoming, for instance, the champion of the opposition to the government led by the King’s Prime Minister (the first who could accurately be described by this title) Robert Walpole. Although the money was eventually granted, it did nothing to improve the parental-filial relations. When his wife, Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha gave birth to his first daughter his decision to rush her to St James’s Palace – which was unprepared – caused a court scandal and a rupture with his parents. Caroline died before the two could be reconciled. Her opinion of her son was that he was ‘the greatest ass and the greatest liar and the greatest canaille and the greatest beast in the whole world and I heartily wish he were out of it’. Once, when she caught sight of Frederick walking in St. James’s Park – nearby to his residence at Carlton House – she stated her wish that ‘the ground would open this moment and sink the monster into the lowest hole in hell’.
When he died in 1751 as the result of complications that may have been brought on by an injury sustained from a cricket ball (a sport of which he was a lavish early patron), Frederick’s was robbed of his opportunity to prove himself as a ruler. This was to be left to his son, George, crowned George III in 1761, who in the great Hanoverian tradition had a similarly toxic relationship with his son.
[1]“Vertue Notebooks: Volume III”, The Volume of the Walpole Society 22, 1933-1934, p. 61.
[2]Ibid., p. 54.
[3]K. Rorschach, “Frederick, Prince of Wales (1707-51), as Collector and Patron”, Volume of the Walpole Society 55, 1989-1990, pp. 1-76.
Frederick, Prince of Wales, is one of the great might-have-beens of British history. The eldest son of George II (1683-1760), he spent much of his life as a king-in-waiting and his premature death meant that the potential of the court that he had built up around him went unrealised.
Frederick spent the majority of his childhood in the family heartland of Hanover. Following his accession in 1727, George attempted to keep his son deliberately distant so as to avoid the tensions that had marred his relationship with his own father when he was Prince of Wales. However, as Frederick grew older he yearned for greater independence and began to act with an autonomy that risked Hanoverian alliances.
Reluctantly, George reached the conclusion that it would be better to keep Frederick closer at hand and so at the end of 1728 he was whisked from a ball that he was attending in Hanover and taken – practically under the cover of darkness – to England where early the following year he was made Prince of Wales. As predicted, his relationship with his father began only to worsen. So as to limit his independence, George had granted Frederick only an exiguous allowance.
Frederick greatly desired a means of living in a state that was in keeping with his title of Prince of Wales. Inspired by the lavish patron of King Charles I, he sought to build up a court around him of the finest artistic taste. One of the figure who was the beneficiary of his patronage was Charles Philips, the artist of the present work.
Baptised in 1708, Charles Philips was likely taught to paint by his father Richard Philips, a minor portrait painter. Philips was one of the artists patronised by Frederick, Prince of Wales, an ambitious patron of the arts. George Vertue’s notebooks suggest that Philips had begun to receive royal patronage as early as 1731.[1] Vertue numbered him as one of an emerging crop of young British artists who had helped create an artistic culture in London that ‘flourishes more in London now than probably it has done 50 or 60 years before’. Other than talent, one factor uniting this group of artists – whose numbers included Philips, Gawen Hamilton and William Hogarth – was that they were, at around five feet high or less, extremely short, even by the standards of the time.[2]
Philips is known to have executed a number of other portraits of Frederick, but this is the only one that shows him standing in the outdoors. The grand architectural setting in which Frederick, who is shown wearing the Order of the Garter, which he received in 1716, stands seems not to show a specific complex of buildings but rather a more generalised palace setting; indeed, it could even hint at the architectural aspirations of the Prince – ‘pretty as a child’ in the words of one biographer – who was as forward-looking a patron of architecture as he was of art.[3]
In securing these parental funds, Frederick showed no restraint in using all of the leverage at his disposal, becoming, for instance, the champion of the opposition to the government led by the King’s Prime Minister (the first who could accurately be described by this title) Robert Walpole. Although the money was eventually granted, it did nothing to improve the parental-filial relations. When his wife, Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha gave birth to his first daughter his decision to rush her to St James’s Palace – which was unprepared – caused a court scandal and a rupture with his parents. Caroline died before the two could be reconciled. Her opinion of her son was that he was ‘the greatest ass and the greatest liar and the greatest canaille and the greatest beast in the whole world and I heartily wish he were out of it’. Once, when she caught sight of Frederick walking in St. James’s Park – nearby to his residence at Carlton House – she stated her wish that ‘the ground would open this moment and sink the monster into the lowest hole in hell’.
When he died in 1751 as the result of complications that may have been brought on by an injury sustained from a cricket ball (a sport of which he was a lavish early patron), Frederick’s was robbed of his opportunity to prove himself as a ruler. This was to be left to his son, George, crowned George III in 1761, who in the great Hanoverian tradition had a similarly toxic relationship with his son.
[1]“Vertue Notebooks: Volume III”, The Volume of the Walpole Society 22, 1933-1934, p. 61.
[2]Ibid., p. 54.
[3]K. Rorschach, “Frederick, Prince of Wales (1707-51), as Collector and Patron”, Volume of the Walpole Society 55, 1989-1990, pp. 1-76.
Provenance
Sotheby’s, 3 April 1968, lot 131 (bt. ‘Goodey’ £120);Sotheby’s 3 May 1972, lot 53 (bt. D.Heimann’ £70);
Private collection, UK, until 2018