Matthew Parker, the Archbishop of Canterbury Who Watched Over Elizabeth I
On December 17, 1559, Matthew Parker was consecrated as Archbishop of Canterbury. It wasn’t a position he wanted, but Parker once made a promise to Anne Boleyn shortly before her death, and he spent the rest of his life trying to keep it.
He was born in Norwich in 1504, the son of Alice and William Parker, a worsted weaver. His family wasn’t noble, but they were financially comfortable, and able to educate their children. His mother may have been a relative by marriage to Thomas Cranmer, but that’s uncertain.
Parker must have been a bright and promising boy, because in 1522, he was sent to Corpus Christi College. Five years later, he was ordained a priest. In 1527, he was elected a fellow of the college and began his master’s degree. He came to the attention of Cardinal Wolsey as a promising scholar that Wolsey wanted to bring to his newly founded Cardinal College at Oxford, but Parker declined.
He had fallen in with the new reformist movement at Cambridge. The story goes that he listened to the confession of a fellow Cambridge scholar, Thomas Bilney, soon to be burned for heresy, and was convinced by his arguments about the reformed faith.
Anne Boleyn was partially responsible for this reformist fervor in the university. She paid the expenses of reformist scholars so they could continue their education. Many of them remained after graduation to teach the next generation. Some moved on to higher office under Anne’s direction. Hugh Latimer, one of Parker’s fiends, was made Bishop of Worcester.
William Betts was Anne’s chaplain, a Cambridge man himself, and he functioned as Anne’s “talent spotter.” He brought to her attention promising reformist scholars.
Parker impressed her so much that she appointed him as her chaplain when Betts died in 1535. Anne’s support also brought him the appointment as dean of the collegiate church of Stoke-by-Clare in Suffolk.
Around the 26th of April, 1536, Anne Boleyn went to Parker to ask him for a personal favor. Dark winds were stirring around the throne, and Anne knew she was in great danger, though she wasn’t sure what was going to happen. She asked Parker to watch over her daughter, Elizabeth, if anything was to happen to her. Parker promised that he would. It was a moment he never forgot, a moment he described to Elizabeth many years later.
After Anne’s execution, Parker was appointed as one of the king’s chaplains. He received his doctorate in 1538. In 1544, he became master of Corpus Christi College, and a year later, was its vice-chancellor. His position may have helped save Cambridge when the king began dissolving chantries and colleges. He couldn’t save Stoke, however, but he was given a comfortable pension when it was dissolved.
His career flourished in the reign of young Edward VI, who was a fervent Protestant. Edward had been tutored by two scholars once sponsored by Anne Boleyn. Everywhere he looked around him, Parker must have seen her lingering influence.
In 1547, Parker married Margaret Harlestone. The couple had wanted to wed for seven years, but waited until marriage of the clergy was legal. Theirs was a very happy union. Margaret was a highly-educated woman who spoke both Latin and Greek, and had the prized attributes of the day of modesty, humbleness, loyalty, and obedience. She was also a skilled homemaker, and when Parker was suddenly elevated to the prestigious position of archbishop, she managed his huge household and lavish entertainments with the same aplomb she had in their more humble situation. Over the years, she would give Parker five children, though only three of them lived to have issue of their own.
Parker’s marriage would cause him problems under the reign of Queen Mary, and later, that of Queen Elizabeth, too, because she disliked the idea of married clergy. But Margaret was such a remarkable woman that Elizabeth couldn’t help but be won over by her. Nicholas Ridley, another Cambridge reformer who would be burned in the reign of Queen Mary, was so impressed with her that he asked Parker if Margaret, by chance, had a sister.
When Queen Mary came to the throne and restored the Catholic faith, Parker, as a married clergyman, lost his preferments and positions. He would not “put away” Margaret and repent, and so he was terminated from his employment.
He kept his head down and lived in quiet obscurity with Margaret. As he wrote later, “I lived as a private individual so happy before God in my conscience, and so far from being either ashamed or dejected, that the delightful literary leisure to which the good providence of God recalled me, yielded me much greater and more solid enjoyments than my former busy and dangerous kind of life had ever afforded me.”
The only dark spot was that a fall from a horse during this time left him with a hernia that would pain him for the rest of his life.
Parker’s decision to quietly capitulate and fade into the background during Mary’s reign did not endear him to some of the Protestants who were forced into exile for refusing to bow to the monarch’s will in regards to religion. Others Parker knew – some his close friends from the Cambridge days, such as Latimer and Ridley – were going to the stake for their faith. But Parker had respect for authority, and his own moderation in matters of faith meant that he wasn’t one of those who fell afoul of Mary’s restored church.
Parker later said he wasn’t worried about the future, trusting in God to take care of him. He could have happily remained at home with Margaret and their two young sons, but the winds of change shifted again.
When Elizabeth came to the throne, she asked Parker to serve as Archbishop of Canterbury. His moderation, his obedience to authority, his scholarship, and genuine piety were what she was seeking in a candidate.
Parker was reluctant. He’d hoped he could go back to Cambridge and work on restoring the university, which had fallen into a sad state over the last few years. But he wrote to her that he felt compelled to accept because of that promise Anne Boleyn had extracted from him so many years ago.
His relationship with Elizabeth was not always easy. She was at first hostile – and sometimes outright rude – to his wife, though Margaret’s charm and quiet piety won her over. Elizabeth was convinced to accept the notion of clergy marriage, but insisted the wives should not live within the church apartments. Parker bought a nearby house with Margaret (adding her name as a co-buyer in case there was any dispute over whether she could rightfully inherit his estate if he should die.) Perhaps suiting her industrious nature, he also purchased an inn, which she may have used as a home business.
Parker avoided any involvement in secular politics, and was never part of Elizabeth’s council. He had his hands full with trying to create unity and uniformity within England’s church.
It was an unsettled time in that regard. Some of the clergy refused to wear vestments. Others were still pulling “popish” elements from their churches; some even tore out their church’s organs. And there were those who staunchly refused to recognize that bishops had the authority to determine matters of faith.
He often was the one who took the blame when Elizabeth’s decisions proved unpopular, and in turn, she blamed him when they weren’t implemented uniformly.
Parker was often exasperated, but he tried to always strike a moderate balance. His work was in quiet reform, and in bringing the various elements of the church to a peaceful accord, trying to come to a settlement on which they could all agree.
It was a Sisyphean task, as the religious factions in England continued to evolve. He stuck to it because of Anne Boleyn. As he once wearily wrote to William Cecil: “Yea, if I had not been so much bound to the mother, I would not so soon have granted to serve the daughter in this place…”
He was instrumental in creating the “39 Articles” that formed the backbone of the Anglican faith, and in drawing up the Book of Common Prayer. Another of his works was a historical examination of the practices of the early English church.
One of his scholarly pursuits at this time was in the study and preservation of England’s history. Much of England’s history had been scattered to the winds during the Dissolution when the monastery libraries were broken up. Parker was determined to preserve as much of it as he could. He had buyers all over the country scouting for and sending him “antient” books. One of them was a fellow by the name of Batman (I kid you not), who was Parker’s most prolific buyer.
Parker’s interest was in using these books to prove that certain Catholic elements of worship had been introduced at a later period, and that the earliest version of the church had been closer to the Anglican faith. He eventually had a library of over 500 volumes, an impressive number for the day. His collection represents a substantial portion of the works in Anglo-Saxon that are still extant.
His beloved Margaret died of a fever in 1571. Parker, reportedly, was never the same. His two sons moved in with him, bringing their wives and children, hoping the sounds of happy family life might be a comfort to Parker.
Parker died in 1575. He spent his last hours writing a letter to Elizabeth, full of the last advice he would give her. One wonders if he laid the pen down feeling that he had finally fulfilled that long-ago promise.
But Elizabeth likely never read it. Someone – unnamed – who was present while it was written said Parker had been rather vehement in his condemnation of certain of her ministers’ policies. As Death’s shadow loomed over him, he didn’t have time to mince words.
One of Parker’s friends learned of the letter and wrote to William Cecil – one of the men Parker had mentioned with “great bitterness.” What became of the letter is unknown – only that the witness had been “dissuaded” from sending it to the queen, and then Cecil was informed as to its existence.
As Parker’s health declined and he knew mortality was approaching, he’d built his own tomb, a plain and simple monument. From the scant descriptions we have, it sounds like a chest tomb. It was engraved with an epitaph written by a friend, and with Parker’s favorite line of scripture. He was buried within it in the palace’s chapel, in his favorite spot for prayer. He directed that when he was embalmed, his organs should be buried with Margaret in the Duke’s Chapel in Lambeth Church.
He left his magnificent library to his college, some 500 priceless volumes of history he had saved. Many of the volumes have been scanned and are available online.
Parker’s grave was broken open by Puritans in 1648, and the tomb itself demolished. They peeled away the lead sheath that encased his body and threw his bones into a dung hill.
When Charles II became king, an antiquarian named William Dugdale appealed to Archbishop Sancroft and told him of the disgraceful thing that had been done to Parker’s remains. A search for the body was undertaken and bones were recovered. They were buried in the church, though not in the same spot his tomb had formerly stood. A new monument was erected in his memory.