Nearly 500 years after his execution, Thomas Cromwell remains one of the most contested figures in British history. Was he the brilliant architect of the English Reformation or a ruthless enforcer willing to destroy anyone in his path? Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall trilogy reimagined Cromwell as a compelling, complex protagonist, and now, with the return of Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light to television, the debate over his true character has been reignited.

A new perspective on a tudor powerhouse

For centuries, historians depicted Cromwell as a merciless schemer who manipulated Henry VIII’s court to his advantage. However, Mantel’s Wolf Hall series, beginning with the Booker Prize-winning Wolf Hall (2009) and Bring Up the Bodies (2012), offered a revisionist perspective. She portrayed Cromwell as a self-made man—intelligent, resourceful, and burdened by a difficult past—rather than the cold, calculating villain of traditional accounts.

This reimagining has proven so influential that the name Thomas Cromwell now conjures the image of actor Mark Rylance rather than the stern, heavy-jowled face immortalised by Hans Holbein’s 1534 portrait. Rylance’s understated performance in the television adaptations has further cemented Mantel’s vision in the public imagination, making Cromwell seem more human and sympathetic than ever before.

On 23 March, US audiences will once again see Rylance take on the role in Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light, which completes the story of Cromwell’s meteoric rise and dramatic downfall. The six-part drama, first aired in the UK last autumn, has been lauded for its intricate storytelling and stunning production values. The Guardian described it as “the most intricate television you are ever likely to see… breathtaking in its execution.”

Fact vs fiction: the debate over Cromwell’s legacy

While Mantel’s historical accuracy has been widely praised, some historians argue that her portrayal of Cromwell is overly sympathetic. Tracy Borman, Chief Historian at Historic Royal Palaces and author of Thomas Cromwell: The Untold Story of Henry VIII’s Most Faithful Servant, was struck by Mantel’s fresh perspective when Wolf Hall was first published in 2008.

“All through my education, I was taught that Cromwell was a grasping, ruthless henchman, driven by greed and power,” says Borman. “Then I read Wolf Hall, and it gave such a different perspective… I was inspired to write a non-fiction biography to uncover where the truth lay.”

Borman’s research supported some of Mantel’s characterisation—Cromwell was indeed shrewd, enterprising, and a master of statecraft. However, she notes that Mantel took artistic licence in certain areas, particularly in downplaying Cromwell’s involvement in Anne Boleyn’s downfall and in presenting him as something of a romantic figure at court.

Dr Samantha Rogers, an expert in early modern history at Vanderbilt University, agrees that Mantel’s Cromwell sidesteps some uncomfortable truths. “Her work is the gold standard for historical fiction—well-researched and rooted in primary sources,” she says. “However, to paint a largely sympathetic portrait of Cromwell, she does omit some crucial details.”

One of the most contentious examples is the fate of Mark Smeaton, a court musician whose confession helped seal Anne Boleyn’s fate. Historical records suggest that Smeaton was tortured under Cromwell’s supervision, but in Bring Up the Bodies, Mantel depicts him merely being intimidated and left in darkness. This subtle change dramatically alters the perception of Cromwell’s methods.

The battle of reputation: Cromwell vs more

Mantel’s Wolf Hall series not only rehabilitated Cromwell but also sought to dismantle the long-standing veneration of Sir Thomas More, Henry VIII’s Lord Chancellor and later a Catholic saint. Robert Bolt’s 1960 play A Man for All Seasons—which won the Oscar for Best Picture in 1967—cast More as a noble martyr and Cromwell as a villainous enforcer.

Mantel took a radically different approach, portraying More as rigid, intolerant, and even cruel. Eamon Duffy, emeritus professor of history at the University of Cambridge, has criticised Mantel for going too far. “She made More into a monster—a torturer and a misogynist whose wife and womenfolk were afraid of him,” he told Idler magazine. “I think that portrayal was the least successful part of Wolf Hall.”

This rewriting of More’s image has sparked debate over whether Mantel’s Cromwell is a figure of historical realism or a product of modern sensibilities.

A hero for the 21st century?

Mantel’s version of Cromwell resonates deeply with modern audiences. Dr Rogers notes that his story shares parallels with another historical figure given a contemporary reimagining: Alexander Hamilton. Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hit musical Hamilton transformed the American Founding Father into a charismatic outsider battling a rigid establishment—a narrative arc not unlike Cromwell’s.

“Both are appealing, scrappy men who come from nothing,” says Rogers. “They succeed in worlds dominated by aristocratic elites. That speaks to today’s audiences, who are increasingly conscious of class, privilege, and power.”

Borman echoes this sentiment: “Henry VIII’s court was far from a meritocracy. Most of its members were blue-blooded nobles, and the top positions were practically hereditary. Then in comes Cromwell, the son of a blacksmith from a seedy part of London, and he takes the court—and its king—by storm. It’s a story as dramatic as it is seductive.”

The enduring mystery of Thomas Cromwell

Even with renewed scrutiny, Cromwell remains a fascinating enigma. Was he a brilliant statesman and loyal servant, or a ruthless political operator who destroyed rivals without remorse? Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light will continue to shape public perception of this Tudor titan, ensuring that the debate over his legacy endures for years to come.