Catherine now learned that her dowry in money was a hundred thousand ducats.  A ducat was a gold piece of the size of an old French louis, though less thick. (The old louis was worth twenty-four francs—­the present one is worth twenty).  The Comtes of Auvergne and Lauraguais were also made a part of the dowry, and Pope Clement added one hundred thousand ducats in jewels, precious stones, and other wedding gifts; to which Alessandro likewise contributed his share.

On arriving at Livorno, Catherine, still so young, must have been flattered by the extreme magnificence displayed by Pope Clement ("her uncle in Notre-Dame,” then head of the house of the Medici), in order to outdo the court of France.  He had already arrived at Livorno in one of his galleys, which was lined with crimson satin fringed with gold, and covered with a tent-like awning in cloth of gold.  This galley, the decoration of which cost twenty thousand ducats, contained several apartments destined for the bride of Henri of France, all of which were furnished with the richest treasures of art the Medici could collect.  The rowers, magnificently apparelled, and the crew were under the command of a prior of the order of the Knights of Rhodes.  The household of the Pope were in three other galleys.  The galleys of the Duke of Albany, anchored near those of Clement VII., added to the size and dignity of the flotilla.

Duke Alessandro presented the officers of Catherine’s household to the Pope, with whom he had a secret conference, in which, it would appear, he presented to his Holiness Count Sebastiano Montecuculi, who had just left, somewhat abruptly, the service of Charles V. and that of his two generals, Antonio di Leyva and Ferdinando di Gonzago.  Was there between the two bastards, Giulio and Alessandro, a premeditated intention of making the Duc d’Orleans dauphin?  What reward was promised to Sebastiano Montecuculi, who, before entering the service of Charles V. had studied medicine?  History is silent on that point.  We shall see presently what clouds hang round that fact.  The obscurity is so great that, quite recently, grave and conscientious historians have admitted Montecuculi’s innocence.

Catherine then heard officially from the Pope’s own lips of the alliance reserved for her.  The Duke of Albany had been able to do no more than hold the king of France, and that with difficulty, to his promise of giving Catherine the hand of his second son, the Duc d’Orleans.  The Pope’s impatience was so great, and he was so afraid that his plans would be thwarted either by some intrigue of the emperor, or by the refusal of France, or by the grandees of the kingdom looking with evil eye upon the marriage, that he gave orders to embark at once, and sailed for Marseille, where he arrived toward the end of October, 1533.

Notwithstanding its wealth, the house of the Medici was eclipsed on this occasion by the court of France.  To show the lengths to which the Medici pushed their magnificence, it is enough to say that the “dozen” put into the bride’s purse by the Pope were twelve gold medals of priceless historical value, which were then unique.  But Francois I., who loved the display of festivals, distinguished himself on this occasion.  The wedding festivities of Henri de Valois and Catherine de’ Medici lasted thirty-four days.