Geoffrey Elton, who taught Diarmaid MacCulloch, once observed that Thomas Cromwell was not ‘biographable’: this marvellous book shows how mistaken he was. The daunting challenge that confronts Cromwell's biographers is that his surviving correspondence is ‘virtually exclusively’ from his in-tray, while his voluminous out-tray was almost certainly destroyed sometime between his arrest and execution in 1540 in a vain attempt to save his neck (pp 1–2). Nonetheless, with an incredible eye to detail, MacCulloch has mined and sifted what survives to create what can only be the definitive study of Henry VIII's most remarkable minister.

Born in Putney, Surrey, c.1485, the son of Walter Cromwell, an ambitious yeoman who kept a tavern, brewed beer on a commercial scale and owned some land (there were rumours that Walter's family was Irish, but that is unconfirmed), Thomas was probably educated in the local school, before he travelled to Italy, where he became fluent in Italian. On his return to England he chose to live at Austin Friars, a part of London with a sizeable community of Italians. MacCulloch regards his fluency in Italian as his ‘most useful accomplishment’ once he returned to England (pp 28, 58). In 1524 Cromwell was recruited by Cardinal Thomas Wolsey specifically to oversee the construction of his Italianate tomb. Cromwell's remarkable loyalty to Wolsey during the minister's downfall impressed the king and caused him to bring Cromwell into his own service.

Through sheer talent and extraordinary industry Cromwell made himself increasingly indispensable to Henry VIII. The point is made repeatedly that his accumulating responsibilities far outstripped his official status before 1536, and MacCulloch suggests that it was Anne Boleyn's animosity towards him that held him back. It is possible, though, that it was the king himself who was hesitant about granting him a peerage and high office. His promotion in 1536 may have been a reward for arranging Anne's execution, but it seems unlikely that Cromwell was the instigator of Anne's downfall.

The implications of this book for the writing of Irish history in the reign of Henry VIII are important. If the history of Tudor Ireland is to be fully comprehended within its wider English context, and if ever it is to be integrated into a wider history of the Tudor dominions, historians must take account of this latest work on the Tudor court. Elton's thesis of a ‘Tudor revolution in government’, which was translated to Ireland by Brendan Bradshaw, his former student, does not survive MacCulloch's very close scrutiny. There was some ‘Cromwellian reform’, but it was a lot more ad hoc than was assumed. The truth is that Henry VIII's increasingly pathological obsessions with the royal succession and the theology of his church(es) left very little time for systematic consideration of other concerns. The intermittent attention given to Ireland was part of a wider pattern, and the religious agenda was crucial. MacCulloch expresses surprise at Irish historians’ failure to recognise the centrality of the ‘papalist’ cause in the Kildare rebellion. In fact, Steven Ellis and this reviewer have emphasised the importance of religious considerations in both the motives of the rebels, and in their strategic calculations. Nonetheless, the point stands that historians of Tudor Ireland ought to take far more account of Henry VIII's and Cromwell's religious agendas than is currently fashionable. MacCulloch's revelation that Lord Grey's execution was prompted by allegations that he was associated with Cardinal Reginald Pole, the bête noire of Henry's régime, contemporaneous with that of another erstwhile friend of Cromwell's, Lord Lisle, the governor of the Calais Pale, on the same grounds, is very telling in that regard.

Altogether, this marvellous book ought to be read by any historian interested in the Tudors and those subject to them. Not only is it first class history, it is a pleasure to read especially as the story progresses towards the climatic execution of Cromwell himself. Reading Cromwell's final plea to Henry for ‘mercy, mercy, mercy’, one might be tempted to feel sorry for him, but only for a fleeting moment.