– So Many Maneuvers and Whispers –
by Lousia Mellor | Den of Geek | December 8, 2024
What was Henry trying to tell Cromwell by recalling that business with the untaken trip to the Weald? That he’d been searching his memory, and perhaps concluded that the bond he thought they’d shared – like that visit to the ironmasters – never existed? Henry’s nostalgic memories of he and Cromwell on horseback and enjoying the sunlight were a fiction romanticising a relationship that never was. To Henry, Cromwell has proved first a disappointment and now, thanks to Gardiner and Norfolk’s poison, a traitor.
Henry’s not one to suffer disappointment, as his less-than-regal response to Anna of Cleves showed. After the quasi-comedic scene in which Henry was warned not to expect great chat from his goody goody two-shoes new queen (don’t sing, don’t hunt, what do you do?), he settled on the worst courtship idea since Oedipus made eyes at his mother. Cromwell and Risley attempted to dissuade the king from rooting through his dressing-up boxes and jumping out at his new wife dressed as a one-man Nativity play, but alas, The Book Called Henry is right: never say what the king will not do.
Henry’s jape predictably backfired, and like a tantruming child given the wrong birthday toy, he found fault with everything about his new wife. Her height, her bonnet, her breasts, her “displeasant airs”… The real problem was simply that Anna had failed to be astonished and delighted by her prince. Henry’s ego couldn’t take the humiliation, nor any of the blame.
That had to go elsewhere: first to Fitzwilliam, who’d signed off on Anna’s comeliness, and then, fatally, to the man who’d engineered the match. No wonder Cromwell tried to appease Henry by pretending that the Bavarian clock was a gift for the king; Henry didn’t need any further reminder that this marriage was the Lord Chancellor’s coup.
Regifting the clock was really the only move Cromwell made towards saving himself in “Mirror”. Despite the predators circling, on he pushed, putting himself in increasing danger by pressing Henry towards a wife he didn’t want, and refusing to back down from Norfolk’s various provocations and facial contortions. He ignored the duke’s insistence on special treatment for his priory and insulted him using language that befitted a lowborn blacksmith’s son, which is how Norfolk sees him anyway. Was it wise, asked Risley? Not at all wise, no. Even less wise would have been sticking Norfolk with that handy little knife, but Cromwell held back from that. Why? For hope.
“How often do you get the chance to change the map of the world? Just once in two or three generations?” he asked in this episode. “To let that chance slip away…” More idealist than pragmatist in his final years, Cromwell is convinced of his Reformation. Getting that over the line and divorcing England irrevocably from the Emperor and the papacy is his only concern. The alliance with Cleves furthers that cause, and so he stuck by it, even when Henry’s dissatisfaction, kneaded and expanded by Cromwell’s enemies, turned to rage.
It’s tantalising to imagine – as Cromwell no doubt will once he’s locked in the Tower – all the scenes in this fateful episode that we didn’t see: Gardiner telling Henry of Cromwell’s Lutheran heresy and the great damage his primacy does to the king’s reputation abroad. Norfolk spreading rumours of Cromwell’s designs on the throne, all the while making his own secret alliance with the French and pushing his “succulent” niece in the king’s path. Henry gifting Catherine Howard rubies that once decorated her cousin’s unfortunate neck. Fitzwilliam and the rest of those jackals conspiring to pull off that cruel stunt in the privy council chambers.
So many manoeuvres being made out of sight, so many whispers happening beyond Cromwell’s earshot and our own. Like him though, we could scent the danger in the air – every new exchange sounding another “uh-oh”. This was an episode of “uh ohs”. The Mirror and the Light is so meticulously written and performed that the audience are trained to be as alert to detail as its courtly characters are to shifting reputations. Coldness and jibes to Cromwell were everywhere, from Henry’s cruel “I miss Wolsey” annual appraisal (has there ever been a worse boss? You just know that Henry would insist on fancy dress and party pieces at the Christmas work do), to Mary snubbing his arrival at her clavichord, to Norfolk’s reheating the gossip about his ambitions on the king’s daughter. Watch the avoided eye contact just as much as the raised voices – that attack on Cromwell was plotted well ahead of time.
Was Risley part of it, or was it just a coincidence that he called Rafe away from Cromwell’s side minutes before their master was stripped of his office? At least Archbishop Cranmer, perhaps Cromwell’s only friend at court, wasn’t part of the hunting party. Like a splinter in the flesh of the nobility, Cromwell has been plucked out.
What next? How did that quote from Cicero (another political visionary whose reformist zeal got him executed) go – live hopefully and die bravely? Cromwell’s done the first. Now for the last.
Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light concludes on Sunday December 8.
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