Life and Letters of Robert Browning [79]
the grave expression
of the little round face, the outline of which was common,
at all events in childhood, to all the members of his mother's family,
and was conspicuous in her, if we may trust an early portrait
which has recently come to light. He wore the curling hair
to which she refers in a later letter, and pretty frocks and frills,
in which she delighted to clothe him. It is on record that,
on one of the journeys of this year, a trunk was temporarily lost
which contained Peni's embroidered trousers, and the MS., whole or in part,
of `Aurora Leigh'; and that Mrs. Browning had scarcely a thought
to spare for her poem, in face of the damage to her little boy's appearance
which the accident involved.
How he came by his familiar name of Penini -- hence Peni, and Pen --
neither signifies in itself, nor has much bearing on his father's
family history; but I cannot refrain from a word of comment on Mr. Hawthorne's
fantastic conjecture, which has been asserted and reasserted
in opposition to Mr. Browning's own statement of the case.
According to Mr. Hawthorne, the name was derived from Apennino,
and bestowed on the child in babyhood, because Apennino was a colossal statue,
and he was so very small. It would be strange indeed
that any joke connecting `Baby' with a given colossal statue
should have found its way into the family without father, mother, or nurse
being aware of it; or that any joke should have been accepted there
which implied that the little boy was not of normal size.
But the fact is still more unanswerable that Apennino could
by no process congenial to the Italian language be converted into Penini.
Its inevitable abbreviation would be Pennino with a distinct separate sounding
of the central n's, or Nino. The accentuation of Penini
is also distinctly German.
During this winter in Paris, little Wiedemann, as his parents
tried to call him -- his full name was Robert Wiedemann Barrett --
had developed a decided turn for blank verse. He would extemporize
short poems, singing them to his mother, who wrote them down as he sang.
There is no less proof of his having possessed a talent for music,
though it first naturally showed itself in the love of a cheerful noise.
His father had once sat down to the piano, for a serious study of some piece,
when the little boy appeared, with the evident intention
of joining in the performance. Mr. Browning rose precipitately,
and was about to leave the room. `Oh!' exclaimed the hurt mother,
`you are going away, and he has brought his three drums
to accompany you upon.' She herself would undoubtedly have endured
the mixed melody for a little time, though her husband did not think
she seriously wished him to do so. But if he did not play the piano
to the accompaniment of Pen's drums, he played piano duets with him
as soon as the boy was old enough to take part in them;
and devoted himself to his instruction in this, as in other
and more important branches of knowledge.
Peni had also his dumb companions, as his father had had before him.
Tortoises lived at one end of the famous balcony at Casa Guidi;
and when the family were at the Baths of Lucca, Mr. Browning would stow away
little snakes in his bosom, and produce them for the child's amusement.
As the child grew into a man, the love of animals which he had inherited
became conspicuous in him; and it gave rise to many amusing
and some pathetic little episodes of his artist life.
The creatures which he gathered about him were generally, I think,
more highly organized than those which elicited his father's
peculiar tenderness; it was natural that he should exact
more pictorial or more companionable qualities from them.
But father and son concurred in the fondness for snakes,
and in a singular predilection for owls; and they had not been
long established in Warwick Crescent, when a bird of that family
was domesticated there. We shall hear of it in a letter from Mr. Browning.
Of his son's moral quality as quite a little child his father has told me
pretty and
of the little round face, the outline of which was common,
at all events in childhood, to all the members of his mother's family,
and was conspicuous in her, if we may trust an early portrait
which has recently come to light. He wore the curling hair
to which she refers in a later letter, and pretty frocks and frills,
in which she delighted to clothe him. It is on record that,
on one of the journeys of this year, a trunk was temporarily lost
which contained Peni's embroidered trousers, and the MS., whole or in part,
of `Aurora Leigh'; and that Mrs. Browning had scarcely a thought
to spare for her poem, in face of the damage to her little boy's appearance
which the accident involved.
How he came by his familiar name of Penini -- hence Peni, and Pen --
neither signifies in itself, nor has much bearing on his father's
family history; but I cannot refrain from a word of comment on Mr. Hawthorne's
fantastic conjecture, which has been asserted and reasserted
in opposition to Mr. Browning's own statement of the case.
According to Mr. Hawthorne, the name was derived from Apennino,
and bestowed on the child in babyhood, because Apennino was a colossal statue,
and he was so very small. It would be strange indeed
that any joke connecting `Baby' with a given colossal statue
should have found its way into the family without father, mother, or nurse
being aware of it; or that any joke should have been accepted there
which implied that the little boy was not of normal size.
But the fact is still more unanswerable that Apennino could
by no process congenial to the Italian language be converted into Penini.
Its inevitable abbreviation would be Pennino with a distinct separate sounding
of the central n's, or Nino. The accentuation of Penini
is also distinctly German.
During this winter in Paris, little Wiedemann, as his parents
tried to call him -- his full name was Robert Wiedemann Barrett --
had developed a decided turn for blank verse. He would extemporize
short poems, singing them to his mother, who wrote them down as he sang.
There is no less proof of his having possessed a talent for music,
though it first naturally showed itself in the love of a cheerful noise.
His father had once sat down to the piano, for a serious study of some piece,
when the little boy appeared, with the evident intention
of joining in the performance. Mr. Browning rose precipitately,
and was about to leave the room. `Oh!' exclaimed the hurt mother,
`you are going away, and he has brought his three drums
to accompany you upon.' She herself would undoubtedly have endured
the mixed melody for a little time, though her husband did not think
she seriously wished him to do so. But if he did not play the piano
to the accompaniment of Pen's drums, he played piano duets with him
as soon as the boy was old enough to take part in them;
and devoted himself to his instruction in this, as in other
and more important branches of knowledge.
Peni had also his dumb companions, as his father had had before him.
Tortoises lived at one end of the famous balcony at Casa Guidi;
and when the family were at the Baths of Lucca, Mr. Browning would stow away
little snakes in his bosom, and produce them for the child's amusement.
As the child grew into a man, the love of animals which he had inherited
became conspicuous in him; and it gave rise to many amusing
and some pathetic little episodes of his artist life.
The creatures which he gathered about him were generally, I think,
more highly organized than those which elicited his father's
peculiar tenderness; it was natural that he should exact
more pictorial or more companionable qualities from them.
But father and son concurred in the fondness for snakes,
and in a singular predilection for owls; and they had not been
long established in Warwick Crescent, when a bird of that family
was domesticated there. We shall hear of it in a letter from Mr. Browning.
Of his son's moral quality as quite a little child his father has told me
pretty and