Diarmaid MacCulloch illuminates the significance of Edward's turbulent and neglected reign. He takes a fresh look at the life and beliefs of the young king and of the ruthless politicians who jostled for power around him. He analyzes the single-minded strategy of the Protestant Revolution and assesses the support it had among the people of England.
This is less a biography of Edward VI than an academic study of the course of the English Reformation during Edward's six-year reign. Edward VI himself barely warrants a mention in this volume, as the momentum behind religious reform was managed almost entirely by the adults on his council, men such as Cranmer, Somerset and Northumberland. While an excellent look at the religious changes enacted in this period, MacCulloch excludes or hardly alludes to other significant events during Edward's rule, making this a very narrow history of his reign.
I bought this book because I enjoyed the books about the Reformation and Christianity from the author. They are the few books which I rated a five-star.
I found the narrative of this book difficult to follow. I expected to learn more about the effects that the Reformation movement on the kingdom. I finished reading the book with not much more understanding of the subject.
Diarmaid MacCulloch’s The Boy King is not a traditional biography of England’s young monarch but a sharp, illuminating Anglican audit of the Edwardian Reformation (1547–1553). Through meticulous scholarship and exacting prose, MacCulloch recasts Edward VI as a sacramental steward—a figurehead embodying both Josiah’s purifying zeal and Solomon’s architectural ambition—whose brief reign catalyzed a transformative arc of theological ambition, liturgical innovation, and diplomatic maneuvering. The book’s strength lies in its ability to frame this period as a crucible for Anglicanism’s identity, revealing how its fleeting reforms left enduring marks on the Church of England and beyond.
MacCulloch’s central argument is that the Edwardian Reformation, though cut short by Edward’s death in 1553, was a defining moment in the English Reformation. Far from a mere interlude between Henry VIII’s conservatism and Elizabeth I’s compromise, it was a bold experiment in Reformed theology, driven by Thomas Cranmer’s vision and shaped by international Protestant currents. The book traces the interplay of theology, liturgy, and diplomacy, showing how these forces collided in a reign marked by both radical potential and political fragility.
The year 1549 emerges as a pivotal moment. MacCulloch details the fall of Edward’s regent, the Duke of Somerset, alongside diplomatic setbacks: the betrothal of Mary, Queen of Scots, to the French Dauphin crushed hopes of a Scottish union, while overtures to the Habsburgs faltered amid the Schmalkaldic Wars. These failures, as MacCulloch argues, explain why England avoided signing the Lutheran Augsburg Confession, opting instead for a distinct Reformed path. Cranmer’s cautious approach—delaying the Forty-Two Articles and crafting an ambiguous 1549 Book of Common Prayer (BCP)—reflected the need to balance theological clarity with diplomatic survival. This ambiguity, however, sparked tensions within the church, as reformers like John Knox pushed for purer worship, clashing with those favoring compromise.
MacCulloch’s analysis of the broader Protestant landscape is equally compelling. He highlights the 1549 Consensus Tigurinus, which united Zurich and Geneva under a Reformed theology distinct from Lutheranism and Catholicism, influencing England through Martin Bucer’s presence and Cranmer’s network. The unrealized visit of Philipp Melanchthon to Cambridge, cut short by Edward’s death, underscores the Reformation’s fragility. By 1557, the condemnation of Zwingli’s doctrine at Worms solidified the Reformed-Lutheran divide, leaving England’s Reformation to carve its own path.
The book’s final chapter, its meatiest, appraises the Edwardian Reformation’s legacy. MacCulloch shows how its iconoclasm—stripping churches of images and centering worship on scripture—was later vilified by Anglo-Catholics and High Anglicans, who, under William Laud and the Westminster Movement, steered the church toward ceremonialism by 1662. Yet Puritans saw Edward’s reign as a golden age, a precedent for resisting the Elizabethan Settlement. The BCP (1549 and 1552) and the Thirty-Nine Articles, largely derived from the Forty-Two, became Anglicanism’s enduring foundations, even if Elizabeth’s pragmatic indifference—possibly shaped by her Henrician leanings and “Nicodemite” survival under Mary—tempered their radical edge. MacCulloch speculates that Elizabeth’s reluctance to embrace anti-Marian extremism stemmed from her need to secure her own legitimacy, a nuance reflected in her rejection of plots like the Lady Jane Grey affair.
MacCulloch vividly imagines what an Edwardian church might have looked like: a communion table at the pews’ center, inscribed with “This do in remembrance of me,” reflecting Zwinglian minimalism, with no kneeling (per Knox) or priestly robes (per Hooper). The underground church under Mary, leaning presbyterian, hints at a less hierarchical structure that might have coexisted with higher church forms had the Reformation not been disrupted.
The book’s strength is its ability to situate the Edwardian Reformation within both English and continental contexts, showing how it was both a product of and contributor to the broader Protestant movement. MacCulloch’s conclusion—that the Anglicanism of 1662 would have been uneasy for Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley—rings true, as does his observation that the Edwardian church’s potential was stifled by dynastic accidents like Henry Stuart’s death in 1613 and the pro-Catholic drift under James I and Charles I towards Spain and eventually France. Yet the BCP and Thirty-Nine Articles endure, influencing not just Anglicanism but also Reformed and liturgical traditions worldwide.
MacCulloch’s work is not without minor flaws. The book’s focus on theological and diplomatic intricacies can occasionally overshadow Edward himself, who remains more symbol than character. The Lady Jane Grey plot, for instance, is mentioned but not explored, leaving readers wanting more on its story and dynastic implications. Still, these are small quibbles in a work focused on his theological legacy.
The Boy King is a must-read for anyone interested in the English Reformation’s ideological core—a Reformed faith with contested Catholic remnants. It illuminates why early breakaways from Anglicanism, like Presbyterians and Methodists, leaned Protestant, and why tensions between Reformed and Catholic elements persist in modern Anglican bodies like the ACNA and GAFCON. MacCulloch’s portrayal of the Edwardian Reformation as England’s “promised land”—with Henry VIII as a Moses who never entered—captures its spirit as a fleeting but formative moment. For scholars, students, or enthusiasts of religious history, this book is a a valuable exercise in how theology, politics, and liturgy intertwine to shape a faith.
I recently listened to the excellent Tombland by CJ Sansom. In it he wrote about the 'confrontations' and the Kett Rebellion, Protector Somerset and Edward VI - if you have not read any Sansom I urge you to do so, he writes amazing Tudor based fiction. Anyway, this sparked my interest in finding out more about this period between Henry VIII and the accession of Mary I.
I found this in the library and it is a wonderful book. It provided answers to all of my questions relating to who was who and why. Clearly written and readable but full of scholarly information and further references. Read it and shed some light on the brief reign of Edward VI.
The Boy King: Edward VI and the Protestant Reformation by Diarmaid MacCulloch A concise and beautifully written life of a tragic boy who played a hugely influential part in the development of the Church of England. The most readable account I know of the Reformation
The reign of Edward VI often gets skipped over in the history of the Tudors, sandwiched between his larger than life father, the bloody reputation of his half-sister, and then the long reign of his other half-sister.
But it is in the short reign of the boy king that the English Reformation really got underway, unleashing creative and destructive energies. The evangelical Church of England of 1553, which looked more Swiss than English or German, was a far cry from the mish mash of Henrician compromise inherited in 1547.
This book charts how that happened, and how the fossilised remains of Edward’s Church lived on in the Elizabethan religious settlement. Definitely helps to have a good head for theological history on you!
Edward VI and his reign were hardly mentioned, moreso the Edwardian era of Protestant reformation. I wouldn’t have even minded had the book not hailed itself as a look at the reformation during this short reign and a biography of the king, but it did.
But what’s even stranger, despite the book not being what I expected it to be, is that the contents of the book are laid out in a very messy fashion, with info dumped at times when you don’t need it and a timeline neglected when you do. Even if the focus of the book was to your liking, I just couldn’t visualise anybody being able to make sense of it all. A very strange piece, indeed.
Between Henry Viii and the brief Jane Grey, the Marian reversion to Catholicism and the Elizabethan synthesis came Edward , the boy king who died at 15. Dealing with such a brief reign by a minor begs the question of how much was him and how much is regents and the author teases this out well. There is also good coverage of how it fits into the aftermath. It’s right that this is a period of change in its own right, not just an interlude. It’s also an intriguing what if.
Well written but wasn’t particularly gripped. Interesting to learn about a short and neglected but in portant king who came in between Henry VI and Elizabeth.
A good overview, though I found myself at times wishing for more narrative and less minutiae. MacCulloch's personal uneasiness toward the very evangelical/Reformed faction of the English Reformation made for some interesting dissonance in my mind. Merits more thinking.