Renard’s natural dislike of Gardiner, and the divergence of their aims, probably spoke here more eloquently than the fact justified. Other evidence will show that Gardiner was not hated, even by the reformers, with the exception of Foxe. But there was ample ground for Renard’s fear lest Mary’s popularity should decline, and not least among the reasons for such a decline was the fact, that she had abrogated the law framed by her father, by which libels on the sovereign were punishable by death. The country was inundated, at this time, with foul and scurrilous sermons and pamphlets, the perpetrators screening themselves behind the Queen’s strictly constitutional mode of government, knowing that the utmost penalty for language that would be an insult to the meanest woman in the land, and which they freely indulged in to vilify their Queen, would but cause them a brief and slight inconvenience. Thus we hear of two men in the pillory in Cheapside “for horrible lies and seditious words against the Queen’s Majesty and her Council,”[441] and this kind of punishment became now of frequent occurrence, although most of the slanders were anonymous, and could never be traced to their authors. As to Renard’s constant refrain that “the prisoners,” meaning of course Elizabeth and Courtenay, should be promptly punished, it must be admitted that he spoke with full knowledge of the danger they represented. Their names were ever on the lips of the rebels, and on the 7th April a letter was found dropped in the street, in favour of the Princess, “as seditious as could possibly be conceived”. Even Gardiner confessed that there was no hope of peace or tranquillity for the realm while she was in it, and he advised that she should be sent abroad, and placed under the care of the Queen of Hungary, the Emperor’s sister.