You see them painted life-size before you meet them in the flesh; and More, conscious of the double effect it makes, pauses, to let you survey them, to take them in.
Like Wolsey, More takes an interest in carpets, and invites his guests to admire his new purchase. More is pleased, but Cromwell’s hands roam the knots and wefts, knowing its price immediately. Wolsey would not have paid a shilling for it.
More remained deeply loyal to Queen Katherine, and believed Henry’s marriage was valid. In the first years of Henry’s pursuit of a divorce, More remains silent, which he hopes will be enough for Henry. It is a stance that will backfire, as Henry begins to explore the depths of his power, aided by Anne Boleyn. The real Thomas More said it best when he compared having Henry’s favour to playing with tamed lions – ‘often it is harmless, often he roars in rage for no known reason, and suddenly the fun becomes fatal.’
THE AMBASSADOR
If we were to see Cromwell as he would want to be seen – that is, through his own papers – we would not get an inkling of the man. The intelligence, certainly, the ruthlessness, to be sure, and we owe a debt to his contemporaries, Cavendish and Hall. But there is another source – the Imperial ambassador, Eustace Chapuys. The relationship between Charles V’s ambassador and Thomas Cromwell was most unexpected and complex, and it lasted right up until Cromwell’s death.
Eustace Chapuys was born sometime around 1489 in the bustling market town of Annecy, which at the time belonged to the state of Savoy, and is now part of France. The eldest of six children, his parents, Louis and Guigone, had great ambitions for Eustace and ensured that he was well-educated, firstly in Annecy and later at the prestigious Turin University, where he completed his doctorate. Turin University had a sound reputation for legal training and was a lively centre of the emerging philosophy of humanism. History has tended to label Chapuys as devoutly – even zealously – Catholic, so it might come as a surprise to learn that he was actually part of an intellectual, humanist network that included well-known reformers, such as fellow Turin University student François Bonivard, the Swiss ecclesiastic religious reformer. He was also close to theologian Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, as well as the scholar and humanist Erasmus, with whom he communicated for over a decade.
At some point, Chapuys went to Geneva, which was then an important political and religious centre and part of the Duchy of Savoy, where he was ordained. Geneva was a crucial stage for Chapuys, for it was here that the still relatively young lawyer would prove his strong work ethic and grasp of political and religious affairs. Most importantly, he would serve his apprenticeship in the art of diplomacy.
While in Geneva, Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor, invited Chapuys to his court in Barcelona where he soon proved himself to be an invaluable diplomat (and why he became known as ‘the Spanish Ambassador’). But what made him particularly valuable to Charles was his legal training because Charles V’s aunt was Katherine of Aragon, Queen of England, and in 1529, she was under siege. Charles needed someone like Chapuys in England where unprecedented events were unfolding at Henry VIII’s court.
Chapuys arrived in England in 1529, ready to do battle as the new resident ambassador and Katherine of Aragon’s divorce lawyer, and for the next 16 years he witnessed some of the most dramatic events of Henry VIII’s reign. Chapuys became fiercely loyal, and his respect and admiration for Katherine far surpassed the requirements of his ambassadorial duties. As for Katherine, her admiration of her ambassador was evident in her correspondence with her nephew Charles.
‘You could not have chosen a better ambassador; his wisdom encourages and comforts me, and when my councillors through fear hesitate to answer the charges against me, he is always ready to undertake the burden of my defence ... I consider him deserving of all your favour.’
We first glimpse Mantel’s Chapuys at the same dinner attended by Cromwell and Thomas More, at the home of Italian merchant Antonio Bonvisi, where Chapuys is a late arrival:
He stands poised on the threshold ... a little crooked man, in a doublet slashed and puffed, blue satin billowing through black; beneath it, his little black spindly legs.
We cannot remark with any certainty the state of Chapuys’ lower extremities, but his portraits suggest he was slender, with dark, beady eyes and short cropped hair. But from his dispatches, which number in the thousands, we see the elegant turns of phrase of a talented ambassador.
In Mantel’s books we do not get a sense of just how much Cromwell fascinated the ambassador – Chapuys spent many reports simply detailing all he knew about Cromwell, and from these an interesting portrait of Cromwell emerges: an astute man who had a rather disarming nature, shrewd, frank, ambitious and highly intelligent.
At the dinner described in Wolf Hall, Chapuys has no interest in Cromwell, choosing to speak to Thomas More instead. Historically Chapuys did spend more time with conservatives at court including the Duke of Norfolk, but he must have started to notice Cromwell as the latter’s responsibilities grew, and soon he began to see Cromwell as a friend and ally, someone whom he was determined to keep on side. In his first years at court, there was tentative communication between the two, with Chapuys attempting to gain Cromwell’s trust slowly. Cromwell, it seemed, had exactly the same idea. Nevertheless, Chapuys told Charles V hopefully that he was determined to ‘set the net, and see if I cannot catch him; I will nevertheless keep a good look-out ahead and risk nothing without being well prepared, knowing, as I do, that in these matters one cannot be too cautious.’
Mantel’s Cromwell looks on Chapuys with humour, and there is something comical about the way he is portrayed, seemingly naive and unaware when he is being
