Thomas Cromwell is a figure both fascinating and frustrating for historians: entrenched in some of the most important developments of sixteenth century England, and yet somewhat apart from their historical record. David Loades's new biography is, characteristically, thoroughly researched, balanced in its opinions, and written in prose which is as pithy as it is engaging – but no matter how skilful the historian who treats Cromwell, the fact remains that there just are not many facts to work with in getting a sense of who Henry viii's chief minister was and what, precisely, drove him. In his first chapter Loades treats with considerable aplomb the fragments of material which survive for Cromwell's life up to his service under Cardinal Wolsey, and displays considerable powers of judicious guesswork in teasing out some suppositions about the man who left them (an ‘unusual youth’ [p. 23], who was part banker, part lawyer, part trader and apparently adept at whatever he turned his hand to). The remaining chapters treat aspects of the 1530s in succession – the Break from Rome, the Royal Supremacy, and Cromwell's role as Lord Privy Seal and Viceregent in Spirituals – in a manner which provides an engaging measure of Cromwell the public figure (if not quite the man). There is more than a shadow of Geoffrey Elton throughout, and in relating the decade in which the skeleton of the English Reformation was constructed Loades depicts Cromwell as the guiding hand (if not quite the visionary mastermind) of a revolution in government, managing parliament, organising materials and anticipating resistance. A final chapter entitled ‘Historiography’ may prove of particular interest to undergraduates and general readers alike: taking us through Cromwell's posthumous reputation, Loades demonstrates that most of the controversies surrounding his subject (king or minister? avaricious villain or principled man of faith?) can be traced almost to the moment of his death, and showcases just how complex writing Tudor history can be. The debate concerning Elton's ‘Tudor revolution in government’ is summarised in an adept manner here, but that the final words are left to Hilary Mantel is perhaps more fitting in 2014 – if Loades's volume introduces a wider audience intrigued by the characters of Tudor politics to its broader themes, it will have done admirable service.