When the capitulation was signed at two o’clock in the afternoon of the 29th, the small Pontifical army had ceased to exist, and the Piedmontese, now free to follow out their plans, could go to join the bands of Garibaldi, under the walls of Gaeta, and, together with him, complete “the extirpation of the Papal cancer,” or, as one of their school, Pinelli, said, “Crush the sacerdotal vampire.” But although right had been trampled down, it knew how to do battle and to die. “For the first time,” observed a Protestant journal, the new Gazette of Prussia, “a general of the party of legality has dared to lead his troops against the enemy. For the first time the revolution has been met in the field of battle. The effort has not been successful. We know it. And as we repeatedly said beforehand, we had no hope that it would. But the defeat of Lamoriciere raises the mind by contrast. For a long time we had been accustomed to the triumphs of cowardice, treachery and corruption, of all which the victories of Garibaldi presented such a disgusting spectacle. We are assured that the Pontifical troops did their duty unto death. This is enough. It is easily understood how the adversaries of the revolution had become humble. For years they could only record the victories of their enemies. But if, at Castelfidardo, a few individuals were defeated, the principle of legality was at last asserted. Now, if men contend in battle for a principle its final triumph is assured.” It was to be expected that Pius the Ninth would avenge the memory of the brave men who had been branded by the name of _Mercenaries_, the greater number of whom served without pay. No wonder if he did justice on the pretended moral order which Piedmont said it had come to restore in the States of the Church. Not only did he honor their noble efforts, he also founded at his own cost, and for their benefit, the chaplaincy of Castelfidardo in the sanctuary of the Scala Santa. He ordered the funeral obsequies of General Pimodan to be celebrated with becoming magnificence, and composed himself an inscription for his tomb in the French Church of St. Louis. He wished to confer on Lamoriciere the title of Roman Count. But the defeated hero declined the honor, saying that he desired always to be called Leon de la Moriciere. Pius IX. then addressed him a few words, which recall the piety of early times: “I send you what, at least, you cannot refuse, the order of Christ, for whom you have combated, and who will, I trust, be your reward as well as mine.”