Archbishop Giovio looked even more embarrassed. "Holy Father, as you know, the nearby French cities are more... ah, comfortable. So over the past few years, the clergy have generally been living in Nîmes, Salon, and other places."
Pius VI asked in bewilderment, "Why is that?"
Archbishop Giovio had no choice but to steel himself and explain the details.
Over the past seven or eight years, nearly all the clergy and officials in Avignon had bought homes in French cities. They returned to Avignon only when the Holy See had official business for them—at most once or twice a month—and went straight back to their "homes" in Nîmes and elsewhere as soon as they finished. Yes, Avignon had only churches and palaces that looked impressive but served little practical purpose. Not only did it lack gas streetlights, running water, and the like, but public safety was also deeply worrying. Thieves often marked people as targets the moment they stepped outside.
French cities, by contrast, not only had a full range of amenities and conscientious police, but even shopping was cheaper than in Avignon—goods transported from France to Avignon were subject to tariffs, and their prices rose by at least a quarter once they entered the city.
Once the clergy had spent time in a French city, Avignon seemed positively rural by comparison.
Thus, over the past few years, Avignon's permanent population had fallen from its peak of fifteen thousand to fewer than eleven thousand. Almost everyone who remained was too poor to move.
Pius VI immediately recalled Marseille's bustling streets and could not help sighing. In their place, he would certainly have wanted to live in a French city too. Archbishop Giovio lowered his head nervously. "Holy Father, I shall summon all the clergy of Avignon at once and impress upon