architecture, and the communities of craftsmanship from which it emerged, as a model for cultural and social reform. Ruskinâs campaign to save neglected and shabby Italian buildings, including St Markâs Cathedral in Venice, took on the vehemence of a crusade, and he arranged for paintings, photographs and plaster casts to be taken of what he considered the most threatened architectural features. Works like
The Stones of Venice
, and the earlier
Seven Lamps of Architecture
(1849), inspired the Victorian public to look at Italy in a new light, not just as the fashionable birthplace of Dante or a place of restless politics and retarded modernity, but as a medieval and Renaissance treasure.
This was something Robinson was delighted to discover first-hand. But collecting in Italy during the middle of the century was not easy. Transport was unreliable, treasure-hunting was notoriously hit-and-miss, and armed scuffles were not at all uncommon. Since the defeat of Napoleon in 1815, the movement towards unification of the Italian states had gathered pace. The years 1848 and 1849, just before Robinsonâs visit, marked the high point of revolutionary idealism with popular support from all classes: from Sicily in the south to Venice and Lombardy in the north, people took to the streets against both native rulers and the Austrian Habsburgs. Though the insurgency collapsed in the summer of 1849, through a combination of dynastic rivalry, foreign invasion and the withdrawal of key support from papal and Neapolitan forces, the movement rumbled on uncertainly and a series of internecineconflicts broke out, especially in the central Italian states. For travellers this could be disruptive and even dangerous: âWe are expecting a battle every hour, and however exciting and romantic it might be, it would not be pleasant to be rolled amongst the debacle of a beaten army and a panic-stricken population,â Robinson wrote during an eventful journey from Florence. 10
But there were advantages to such upheaval. Collecting in Italy had rarely been so rewarding. As the old structures of power were challenged, objects from both the aristocracy and the Church found their way on to the open market and into the hands of collectors. Charles Eastlake, the first Director of the National Gallery (1855â65), was just one of those who were drawn to the treasures made newly available by the troubled political climate. He made a series of collecting trips to Italy throughout the 1850s and 1860s; his acquisitions included Fra Angelicoâs
Adoration of the Magi
and thirty other paintings from the Lombardi-Baldi collection in Florence in 1857. Whatever the risks, the allure of Italy, it seems, was too great to resist.
Despite his eventful holidays, and his preoccupation with collecting, Robinsonâs day job continued to go well. He was, as he had foreseen, creating an immediate impression at the School of Design and, by 1852, after just over five years, he had been promoted to Teachersâ Training Master. His timing could not have been better. It was the same year that Henry Cole began to reorganize and reinvigorate the government design programme, and Robinson soon came to Coleâs notice, partly for his practical work, and partly because he put himself in Coleâs way by sending him, with characteristic confidence, a series of suggestions for improving the Schools. Less than a year later, in September 1853, Robinson was in London, at the heart of things, in a new position at the South Kensington Museum. It seemed like the perfect job. He could bring to bear all the art knowledge he had gleaned, hewould have public money to spend and he could immerse himself in collecting. What began as a temporary post was confirmed as permanent on 8 July 1854, and Robinson took his place in the ranks of professional collectors.
Ransacking and Revolution: The European Crusade
C HARLOTTE S CHREIBER
CHAPTER TEN
The Gourd-shaped Bottle
C