These terms were in part the same as those proposed by Prince Napoleon to Cavour shortly before the death of that statesman, who had promised to support them as a temporary makeshift, and in order to get the French out of Italy.  But they were in part different, and they contained two new provisions which it is morally certain that Cavour would never have agreed to—­the prolongation of the French occupation for two years (Cavour had insisted that it should cease in a fortnight), and the transfer of the capital, which was now made a sine qua non by Napoleon, for evident reasons.  While it was clear that Turin could not be the permanent capital of a kingdom that stretched to AEtna, if once the seat of government were removed to Florence a thousand arguments and interests would spring up in favour of keeping it there.  So, at least, it was sure to seem to a foreigner.  As a matter of fact, the solution was no solution; the Italians could not be reconciled to the loss of Rome either by the beauty and historic splendour of the city on the Arno, or by its immunity from malaria, which was then feared as a serious drawback, though Rome has become, under its present rulers, the healthiest capital in Europe.  But Napoleon thought that he was playing a trump card when he dictated the sacrifice of Turin.

The patriotic Turinese were unprepared for the blow.  They had been told again and again that till the seat of government was established on the Tiber, it should abide under the shadow of the Alps—­white guardian angels of Italy—­in the custody of the hardy population which had shown itself so well worthy of the trust.  The ministry foresaw the effect which the convention would have on the minds of the Turinese, and they resorted to the weak subterfuge of keeping its terms secret as long as they could.  Rumours, however, leaked out, and these, as usual, exaggerated the evil.  It was said that Rome was categorically abandoned.  On the 20th of September crowds began to fill the streets, crying:  ‘Rome or Turin!’ and on the two following days there were encounters between the populace and the military, in which the latter resorted to unnecessary and almost provocative violence.  Amidst the chorus of censure aroused by these events, the Minghetti cabinet resigned, and General La Marmora, who, as a Piedmontese, was fitted to soothe the excited feelings of his fellow-citizens, was called upon to form a ministry.

The change of capital received the sanction of Parliament on the 19th of November.  Outside Piedmont it was not unpopular; people felt that, after all, it rested with themselves to make Florence no final halting-place, but a step towards Rome.  The Papal Government, which had been a stranger to the late negotiations, expressed a supreme indifference to the whole affair, even to the contemplated departure of the French troops, ’which concerned the Imperial Government, not the Pope,’ said Cardinal Antonelli, ’since the occupation had been determined by French interests.’  It cannot be asserted that the Pope ever assumed a gratitude which he did not feel towards the monarch who kept him on his throne for twenty years.