‘Mother’s wholesome advice’, 1592

No twanging at bedtime!

I’ve written here before about parental humblebragging in past times – but other aspects of supposedly modern parenting have just as good a historical provenance (as so often before, I’m drawn to the ‘nothing new under the sun’ theme). This time I give you helicopter parenting, Elizabethan-style!

It’s early 1592 and two brothers are living together in Gray’s Inn, London (where they had both studied law 16 years earlier). The elder, Anthony, is about 34, and he has just come back from a dozen years in France, where he was a somewhat erratic spy for Elizabeth I’s spymaster, Sir Francis Walsingham. The younger, Francis, is 31 – he too has travelled a good deal in Europe, although he returned home on the death of their father back in 1579. By now, Francis has practised law for some while, has been a member of Parliament, and is a confidential adviser to the Earl of Essex, the queen’s favourite (Anthony would later become the earl’s secretary, too).

Victorian editor James Spedding noted that the brothers “lived on the most affectionate and confidential footing”, although Anthony suffered from ill health, particularly gout. Week after week, letters came from their mother Anne, “directed to Anthony, but addressed generally to both” as Spedding says, and they were full of the “agitations of maternal anxiety”. They make for interesting reading – even without knowing that the surname of these people was Bacon, and young Francis would become one of the most famous names of the age.

Born some time around 1528, Anne Cooke was the daughter of the scholar Anthony Cooke, who tutored Henry VIII’s son Edward. She was well educated herself, knowing multiple languages (reflected in her translations of religious works), and was passionately religious and anti-Catholic. In 1553 she married Sir Nicholas Bacon, a notable courtier to Elizabeth I. Long after his death, she took great interest in political affairs, corresponding with the Earl of Essex and Elizabeth’s chief adviser Lord Burghley – and was not afraid to give them advice, just as she did with her sons.

Scholar Katy Mair notes that “The exchange of letters between Anne and Anthony Bacon makes up the largest surviving body of correspondence between a mother and son from the sixteenth century”, offering “an unparalleled insight into the complex workings of a mother and son relationship in the early modern period”.¹ In the hundred or so letters that have survived, she shares local gossip and discusses national affairs alike. And of course there’s the advice – here are her tips on good sleep hygiene (‘twanging’ means having music played – '“don’t use your iPhone in bed” feels like the modern analogue), for example:

Do what you can to expel the gout by diet and seasonable sleeping. Use not yourself to be twanged asleep, but naturally it will grow into a tedious custom and hinder you much.

Her letters (sent from her home in Gorhambury, Hertfordshire) show love and care, but also an inability to let go, especially given that her sons were grown men by the time of the letters I have extracted below. Sometimes she slips into Latin or Greek to avoid the prying eyes of her messengers. And certain themes recur: don’t trust servants, be properly religious, eat well and look after your health.²

Lady Anne Bacon, c.1600

[In this first letter, Anthony is just back from France. ‘Lawson’ is his servant of whom Anne is deeply suspicious – he had been imprisoned for most of 1588 and Anthony – who had a reputation for sexual relations with his male servants – suspected she was behind it. Nicholas Faunt was a close friend of Anthony, and Walsingham’s secretary.]

3rd February 1592

That you are returned now at length I am right glad. God bless it to us both. But when I heard withal that Lawson, who I fore-suspected, stole hence unto you, and so belike hath wrought upon you again to your hurt, to serve his own turn as heretofore; how welcome that could be to your long-grieved mother, judge you. I can hardly say whether your gout or his company were the worse tidings. I have entertained this gentleman, Mr. Faunt, to do so much kindness for me as to journey towards you, because your brother is preparing your lodging at Gray’s Inn very carefully for you. I thank God that Mr. Faunt was willing so to do, and was very glad, because he is not only an honest gentleman in civil behaviour, but one that feareth God indeed, and as wise withal, having experience of our state, and is able to advise you both very wisely and friendly… Use him therefore, good son, and make much of such, and of their godly and sound friendly counsel. This one chiefest counsel your Christian and natural mother doth give you even before the Lord, that above all worldly respects you carry yourself ever at your first coming as one that doth unfeignedly profess the true religion of Christ, and hath the love of the truth now by long continuance fast settled your heart, and that with judgment, wisdom, and discretion, and are not afraid or ashamed to testify the same by hearing and delighting in those religious exercises of the sincerer sort, be they French or English. In hoc noli adhibere fratrem tuum ad consilium aut exemplum. Sed plus dehinc. [Meaning: ‘In this, do not follow your brother’s counsel or example. But more hereafter.’]

If you will be wavering (which God forbid, God forbid), you shall have examples and ill encouragers too many in these days… Beware, therefore, and be constant in godly profession without fainting, and that from your heart: for formality wanteth none with us, but too common. Be not speedy of speech nor talk suddenly, but where discretion requireth, and that soberly then. For the property of our world is to sound out at first coming, and after to contain. Courtesy is necessary, but too common familiarity in talking and words is very unprofitable, and not without hurt-taking, ut nunc sunt tempora [as the times are now]. Remember you have no father. And you have little enough, if not too little, regarded your kind and no simple mother’s wholesome advice from time to time. And as I do impute all most humbly to the grace of God whatsoever he hath bestowed upon me, so dare I affirm that it had been good for you every way if you had followed it long ere this…

Let not Lawson, that fox, be acquainted with my letters. I disdain both it and him. He commonly opened underminingly all letters sent to you from counsel or friends. I know it, and you may too much, if God open your eyes as I trust he will. Send it back, to be sure, by Mr. Faunt sealed; but he will pry and prattle. So fare you well, and the Lord bless you and keep you from evil.

Your mother

A. BACON.

PS. I trust you, with your servants, use prayer twice in a day, having been where Reformation is [this refers to Geneva]. Omit it not for any. It will be your best credit to serve the Lord duly and reverently, and you will be observed at the first now. Your brother is too negligent herein, but do you well and zealously ; it will be looked for of the best learned sort, and that is best.

28th February

God send you above all his true fear in your heart, and health to do your long discontinued duty to her Majesty and your country. I pray you be careful and keep good diet and order. It is here marvellous cold and sharp: too sharp yet for you, I think. On Thursday or Friday I mean to be at London, if the Lord’s will be so. Many sick hereabout and one of my household since I came. If I come not shortly, I will send your boy, who is troubled with cold and willing to be with you. I would gladly you had well seen her Majesty; but be in some good state of health first, and regard it carefully for any, with God’s blessing. Look well to your servants and to your own things.

17th May

God bless you daily more and more both in soul and body. I send to know how you do. For myself I am but languescens [languishing, in the sense of feeling unwell], but in good cheer and comfort, I thank God. The good man Rolff, my tenant at Burston… is desirous to see you. He is an honest man and kind tenant, and of discretion and dealing… Be not overruled still by subtle and hurtful hangers-on.

24th May

That you increase in amending I am glad. God continue it every way. When you cease of your prescribed diet, you had need, I think, to be very vary both of your sudden change of quantity and of season of your feeding, especially suppers late or full. Procure rest in convenient time. It helpeth much to digestion. I verily think your brother’s weak stomach to digest hath been much caused and confirmed by untimely late going to bed, and then musing nescio quid [I know not what] when he should sleep, and then in consequent by late rising and long lying in bed. Whereby his men are made slothful and himself continual sickly. But my sons haste not to hearken to their mother’s good counsel in time to prevent.

[She goes on to tick him off for letting other people use his coach – “you shall be so much pressed to lend, and your man for gain so ready to agree, that the discommodity thereof will be as much as the commodity” – and again warns him of servants taking advantage from his “want of experience by so long absence”.]

Let not your men see my letter. I write to you and not to them.

29th May

I am glad and thank God of your amendment. But my man said he heard you rose at three of the clock. I thought that was not well. So suddenly from bedding much to rise so early, newly out of your diet. Extremities be hurtful to whole, more to the sickly. If you be not wise and discreet for your diet and seasoning of your doings, you will be weakish, I fear, a good while. Be wise and godly too, and discern what is good and what not for your health. Avoid extremities. What a great fault were it in you to take cold to hinder your amendment being not compelled but upon voluntary indiscretion. Seeing the cost of physick is much, your pain long, your amendment slow and your duty not yet done, give none occasion by negligence.

29th June

My man said you wished to have strawberries to still [i.e. distill, believed to help with gout and other conditions – two further letters after this refer to sending more strawberries]. I have sent I think all there be, and this day gathered. I had meant to have stilled for myself, but they be as well thus. I send them by the boy of my kitchen, a shrewd-witted boy and prettily catechized, but yet an untoward crafty boy. He will mark, I warrant, you thoroughly. I look for him again at night. I pray you stay him not. He is able enough to do it, God willing: do not pity, it will make him worse. If you give him 6d. of your own self, it is too much… It is here very hot indeed. Let not your men drink wine this hot weather; nor your brother’s neither, tell him. Diverse sick of hot agues. God keep us sound in the faith and send us health and a care to please God above all.

24th July

I thank you for your letter; but I understand not one chief point, nor do not desire yet; but you had need be very circumspect and wise... I assure you I ask not nor know not where Lawson is, but this I counsel: be very wary that his very subtle and working head work not to your cumber [hindrance]. You have been long absent, and by your sickliness cannot be your own agent, and so, wanting right judgment of our state, may be much deceived… Be not overcredulous nor too open. Sub omni lapide latet anguis. [A snake hides under every stone.] Get health to serve God and your country as he shall enable and call you…

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If you’re wondering what the two sons made of all this, in fact drafts of around 70 replies from Anthony (and just a couple from Francis) survive. He is always respectful (typical sign-off: “Your Ladyship’s moste humble and obedient sonne”) but often quite businesslike. And is there a touch of eye-rolling, perhaps, in this reply from 25th March…?

Madam, I humbly thank your Ladyship for your letters and will not fail to remember and endeavour to follow your wise and kind advice, as also to save a special care not to go too fast, both in respect of myself and your Ladyship’s horse…

Anthony continued to serve the Earl of Essex, but his poor health eventually rendered him housebound and he died in his early 40s. But as his light faded, so Francis’s star rose. Under James I he was knighted in 1603 and later ennobled, served as Attorney General and then Lord Chancellor (although that ended in disgrace with accusations of corruption) – and is now best remembered as a pioneer of scientific method. Would his mum (who died in her early 80s in 1610) have been proud? Perhaps… but I bet she still had advice for him…

1. See ‘Material Lies: Parental Anxiety and Epistolary Practice in the Correspondence of Anne, Lady Bacon and Anthony Bacon’, Lives and Letters 4(1), 2012.

2. Lady Anne’s letters are preserved in Lambeth Palace Library. I have mostly used Spedding’s 19th century modernisations of the spelling (from this book) with some additions from the 2013 collection The Letters of Lady Anne Bacon.