Sinister conversations in hushed tones behind gold-plated Gothic columns faintly illumined by flickering torchlight.

Paranoia so palpable and claustrophobic that its metaphorical miasma perhaps parallelled the pungency of the aromas that filled the Hampton Court Palace banquet hall during the Tudor era.

Mass media depictions of England during the reigns of King Henry VIII (1509-1547), Mary, Queen of Scots (1553-1558) and Queen Elizabeth I (1558-1603) have perennially represented nobles, courtiers, diplomats and religious clerics as figures accomplished at conveying a friendly countenance to mask their calculated, and oftentimes nefarious, designs.

Television shows and movies in the vein of Wolf Hall, The Tudors, The Other Boleyn Girl and Elizabeth (1998) satisfy with visual and atmospheric panache, compelling performances and plotlines deftly blending grandeur, sensuality and danger. However, the creative liberties these productions took to heighten dramatic effect does present an inexact impression that everyone in orbit of the three aforementioned monarchs conspired morning, noon and night.

Newly published academic research from Dr. Adam Hill, an assistant professor of history at St. Mary’s University in Calgary, offers a comprehensive deep dive into Cuthbert Tunstall (1474-1559), a Christian humanist scholar who was a valued counsellor to many members of the aristocratic class for over 50 years — and a figure who belied the shadowy clergyman archetype.

Hill’s "Burning Moderation: Navigating Religious and Conflict with Cuthbert Tunstall's Humanism (1474-1559)" suggests Tunstall was distinctive during “an age of suspicion, accusation and execution” as he frequently spurned secrecy and “articulated his opinions with the greatest of clarity.”

He openly criticized Henry VIII’s infamous divorce from Catherine of Aragon and survived. The longtime Bishop of Durham — and the last surviving pre-Reformation bishop — was spared reprisal when he opposed Henry declaring himself the Supreme Head of the Church of England in 1534 by severing ties with the Roman Catholic Church. He tangled with the powerful Archbishop of Canterbury Reginald Pole over papal authority and remained unscathed. Finally, he was not terminated when rejecting the Protestant Queen Elizabeth I as head of the Church of England.

Hill explained to The Catholic Register that Tunstall was a man of “invincible moderation” and that quality was disarming.

“Something clear with Tunstall is that he did not appear to be a reactionary,” said Hill. “He was willing to present a softer position on a number of issues and because of that people were less reactive against him.

“When he spoke and wrote even though some of what he's saying contains criticism, I think he developed enough of a reputation as someone who is not out for vengeance or was interested in defeating people in arguments,” continued Hill. “He seemed to be driven more by a desire to understand and be directed by his intellect. I think that caused people to respond slightly differently to him.”

The crux of Hill’s article is devoted to challenging interpretations that Tunstall was “timid, indecisive” or “primarily concerned with his own self-preservation or personal advantage.” Instead, Tunstall’s “wide-ranging humanist learning and his unquestioned integrity should more accurately suggest that he was a man who possessed an unusual degree of intellectual flexibility and theological humility in an age that threatened so many with imprisonment or death for not sharing the conscience of those who held power.”

A striking exemplification of Tunstall’s open-minded character traits was his refusal to authorize the burning of even a single “heretic” during his four decades as a bishop. Before assuming control over the Durham bishopric, he led the London diocese from 1522 to 1530. Many of his contemporaries did issue such edicts. His pragmatism was also evident when he ultimately acquiesced to Henry VIII’s decision about cutting off ties with Rome and continued to serve him as a diplomat and advisor because he believed the greater good and stability could be achieved.

However, though Tunstall was tolerant of individual religious conscience expression, Hill noted that the prelate’s relationship with some of the age's literature was more ethically intricate.

On one hand, he did support the theological writings or Biblical translation works from scholars such as Thomas More and Desiderius Erasmus. Hill suggested that Tunstall did so because he “wanted to break from the perceived intellectual rigidity of medieval scholasticism and rediscover a purer and more original form of Christianity through the application of a rigorous and diverse humanist education.” But his “humanistic broadmindedness” was not apparent when it came to William Tyndale’s translation of the New Testament. Tunstall sought to burn the Protestant Reformation thought leader’s Bibles.

Hill suggested that Tunstall’s efforts to “police” Tyndale’s translations were not a case of reactionary repressionism. There was a humanist undercurrent propelling his actions. The scholar’s respect for ancient texts was so evident that he believed, according to Hill, these manuscripts were not easily translated. Tunstall “was not confident that hastily published vernacular translations of scriptures in the hands of literate lay men and women would result in a purer form of the Christian faith.” He was also a great believer and defender of the real presence of Christ being in the Eucharist and he was determined that this important theological doctrine shone through in each published Bible.

In conclusion, Hill posited how 21st-century Christendom would better “navigate its own divisions and conflicts if men and women of ‘Tunstall's type’ were entrusted with the solution of our own contemporary crisis.”

The St. Mary’s professor elaborated to the Register the lessons that can be drawn from Tunstall’s life.

“When he's presented with a problem, be it a political or theological problem, he approaches it not from a place of certainty, but with what we can describe as intellectual humility,” said Hill. “I think when I look around the world today, I think quite often when we're dealing with any number of issues, problems, little political issues, theological issues, we often begin the discussion or the debate from a position of certainty. I think this posture of intellectual humility is followed by a great sense of intellectual rigour, a willingness to study, learn and critique your sources.

“A willingness to deliberate about things a little bit more slowly as opposed to being reactionary,” continued Hill. “We live in an age of social media that kind of demands reactionary responses to issues that are often very complex.