=THE POPE AT MARSEILLES.=
At the beginning of October 1533, the ancient city of the Phocæans was in a state of great excitement; the King of France and the pope were coming; what an honour! It is well known that the inhabitants of that city are quick, enthusiastic, and fond of show and parade. Watchmen had been placed on the highest points to telegraph the approaching fleet. At length, on the 4th of October, the castles of If and Notre Dame de la Garde suddenly gave the looked-for signals. One cry only was heard in the streets of Marseilles: 'The flotilla with the pope on board has come in sight.'[469] A feverish agitation pervaded the city; the sound of trumpets, clarions, and hautboys filled the air; the people hurried to the harbour. Nobles and prelates went on board the ships that had been kept ready; their sails were unfurled, and in a short time this extemporised fleet saluted that of the pope with deafening acclamations. Many devout catholics trembled with joy and admiration; they could hardly believe their eyes. 'Behold the real representative of Christ,' they said, 'the father of all christians, the only man who can at will give new laws to the Church;[470] the man who has never been mistaken and never will be; whose name is alone in the world, vice-God upon earth.'[471] Clement smiled: in Italy he had never heard such exclamations or witnessed such enthusiasm. O France! truly art thou the eldest daughter of the Church! He did not know that vanity, curiosity, love of pomp, and a fondness for noise had much to do with this rapture, and that France, like her king Clovis, worships what it has cast down, and casts down what it has worshipped. The pope had no leisure to indulge in such reflections. At the moment his galley entered the harbour, three hundred pieces of artillery fired a salute. Notre Dame de la Garde, the tower of St. John, the abbey of St. Victor, the harbour and its vicinity were all on fire.[472]
Francis was not to be seen among the vast and brilliant crowd which filled Marseilles. There were princes of the blood, prelates, diplomatists, magistrates, courtiers, and warriors; but the king, although at the gates of the city, kept himself in the background and apart. However, when the night came, and everybody had retired to their quarters to rest after so fatiguing a day, a man, wrapped up in a cloak, entered the city, glided mysteriously along the dark streets, and stopped at the gate of the palace where the pope was lodging. This man was immediately introduced into the apartments where Clement was preparing to take his repose: it was the King of France.[473] ... What was the object of this nocturnal visit? Was it because the king wished to sound the pontiff in secret, before receiving him officially? Was it the etiquette of the time? However that may be, Francis, after a secret and confidential conversation, returned with the same mystery, wearing a very satisfied look. The pope had promised everything, all the rights, all the possessions,—in a word, whatever he had made up his mind not to give.
The next day the pope, dressed in his pontifical robes, and seated in a magnificent chair borne on men's shoulders, made his solemn entry, attended by his cardinals, also in all the brilliancy of their costume, and by a great number of lords and ladies of France and Italy.[474]
=LATIN ADDRESS TO THE POPE.=
Early in the morning, and while the streets were echoing with cries of joy, the president of the parliament, living in one of the handsomest houses of Marseilles, was pacing his room with anxious brow, gesticulating and carefully repeating some Latin phrases. That magistrate had been commissioned, as a great orator, to deliver an address to the pope; but as unfortunately Latin was not familiar to him, he had had his speech written out beforehand, and by dint of labour he had so far committed it to memory, as to be able to repeat it off-hand—provided there was no change made in it.
At the same moment, a messenger from the pope appeared at the king's levée with a paper, and requested, on behalf of the pontiff, who had a great fear of the terrible Charles V., that the said oration should be delivered as it was written on the paper he brought with him, so as to give the emperor no offence. Francis despatched Clement's draft to the president. What a disappointment! The new address was precisely the contrary of what he had been learning by heart. The famous orator became confused: he did not know what to do.... Alas! he had but a few minutes to spare, and the sonorous words which would have offended the great emperor, and which he had counted on reciting in his loudest voice, kept recurring to his mind. He fancied himself in the presence of that magnificent assembly of proud Roman prelates who knew Latin so well.... There could be no doubt about it ... he would become embarrassed, he would stammer, he would not remember what he had to say, and would break down. He was quite in a fever. The president, no longer master of himself, hurried off to the king, and begged him to give the office to some one else. 'Very well, then,' said Francis to Bishop du Bellay, 'you must undertake it.' At that moment the procession started. It reached its destination; the Bishop of Paris, although taken unawares, put a bold face upon the matter; and being a good Latin scholar and able orator, he executed his commission wonderfully well.[475]
The official conferences began shortly after, and neither king nor pope spared protestations, stratagems, or falsehoods: the pope particularly excelled in the latter article. 'He used so much artifice in the business,' says Guicciardini,[476] 'that the king confided marvellously in him.' What Francis required to compensate him for the misalliance was not much: he asked for the duchies of Urbino and Milan, Pisa, Leghorn, Reggio, Modena, Parma, Piacenza, and Genoa. But if the king was inexhaustible in his demands, the pope was equally so in his promises, being the more liberal as he intended to give nothing. Clement, touched by the good-nature of Francis, who appeared to believe all that was told him, sent at last to Nice for the youthful Catherine.
=BULL AGAINST HERETICS.=
It was not decorous for the pope to appear to have come so far only to give away a young lady. He proposed, therefore, in order to conceal his intrigues, to issue the bull against the heretics which he had brought with him. It was his wedding present, and nothing could better inaugurate Catherine's entry into France. But the diplomatist, William du Bellay, did all in his power to prevent this truly Roman transaction. He had several very animated conversations on this subject with the cardinals and with the pope himself. He represented to him the necessity of satisfying the protestants of Germany: 'A free council and mutual concessions,' he said; but Clement was deaf. Du Bellay would not give way; he struggled manfully with the pontiff, and conjured him not to attempt to put down the Reformation with violence.[477] He used similar language to Francis, and laid before him some letters which he had recently received from Germany; but the king replied that he was taking the matter too seriously. The bull of excommunication was simply a manner, a papal form ... and nothing more. The bull was published, and there was a great noise about it. Francis and Clement, each believing in the other's good faith, were deceiving one another. The only truth in all this Marseilles business was the gift the pope made to France of Catherine de Medici. That was quite enough certainly.