From romantic and diplomatic turmoil to religious upheaval and reformation, the reign of Henry VIII was undoubtedly colourful.
Mention of the Tudor monarch might bring to mind that famed Holbein portrait of a colossus of a king, or maybe it takes one back to that school-room rhyme of ‘divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived’ that forever defines his kingship as one of multiple marriages.
Mantel’s Wolf Hall trilogy finishes with the intricately woven, masterfully told The Mirror and the Light. While it is the third in the series, it also stands alone as an epic novel in its own right. Thomas Cromwell is the lens through which we view the ins and outs of Henry VIII’s reign. We are privy to his dialogue also to his private thoughts and feelings. The trilogy of books lives through his consciousness, and ends as he takes his last breath. As Lord Privy Seal, he is – aside from the King – the most powerful person in the country, and we watch him juggle both national and global concerns amidst the constant double-dealings and challenges of the peerage who surround him. He is the son of a blacksmith, and his rise to being Henry’s confidante continuously causes outrage and disbelief amongst the aristocratic families that jostle to be in the king’s inner circle.
The King’s power is immense. We watch the court, councillors and even global powers bow to his desires. Cromwell’s ‘whole life depends on the next beat of Henry’s heart’, and he watches on a knife edge for a smile or a frown. The court, and Cromwell, orbit around the King. He is the sun at the centre of all things. He is the ‘light’, and without him showing favour to Cromwell, our protagonist is a ‘pale actor who sheds no lustre of his own’. If the light were to move on, there is nothing.
But ‘gospellers’ threaten this order, and Cromwell finds himself carried along with them as he personally, and financially, invests in getting Tyndale’s English Bible into every church. His involvement, and evolving convictions, place him in opposition to the King who has changed churches but not necessarily changed what he believes. While he lives at the mercy of Henry’s sovereign favour, he struggles to have enough faith to trust the Creator God’s mighty rule, and to depend on His mercy above all else. Cromwell poignantly says ‘I believe but I don’t believe enough’ as he watches Lambert, a gospel man, being carried off to the stake. He is unwilling to stand against the King, because it is the King’s power that visibly determines life and death.
As we nervously follow ‘Crumb’, navigating the machinations and complexities of court life, we watch his gilded existence crumble within hours of Henry’s ‘light’ moving on. Cromwell himself speaks of God’s mercy for sinners in his final hours, and I think we read this novel and praise God for His mercy and love that is steadfast and unchanging. We praise God that, in Christ, our future is not dependent on the smile or frown of a fickle king, but on the loving grace of our mighty God. Henry VIII lights up Cromwell, but we know that Jesus is the light of the world who never moves on. Praise God for Tyndale’s Bible that allowed people like us to encounter Jesus, and to grow in faith beyond that which Cromwell is able to declare.
Mantel allows the Reformation thread to weave in and out of her fiction. It dips in and out of the spotlight, as numerous other concerns grab Cromwell’s attention and demand action. But for us, and for the people at the time, the sovereignty of God cannot be pushed aside, and with every mention we’re reminded that even the court of this legendary Tudor king was in the hands of the same God who orders our paths, and works all things for His glory. All glory and honour are His, whatever novelists, historians or indeed our own friends say.
THE MIRROR AND THE LIGHT
By Hilary Mantel Fourth Estate. 912 pages. £15.00
ISBN 978 0 007 580 835
