Whatever the motive, he astonished his enemies no less than his friends by failing to follow up Wagram with the complete conquest of the peninsula. Three hundred thousand French soldiers in Spain propped feeble Joseph on his throne; but they were never able to put down resistance or expel the English. Another serious matter which might have been settled at this time was his quarrel with the Pope. The Concordat had accomplished great results for both contracting parties, and at first both were highly satisfied. Napoleon complacently rubbed his hands and declared, “With my soldiers, my prefects, and my priests I can do as I like.” But, after all, the Concordat was a compromise. Neither party got quite what was wanted. Napoleon expected that there would result a clergy wholly dependent upon his will; a pope who would be a sort of clerical lieutenant obeying imperial orders, content to move as a lesser light in the Napoleonic system. The Pope, on the other hand, eagerly expected a restoration, gradually, of the former spiritual prestige of the Church. When Napoleon was seen to attend Mass, and kneel for blessing or prayer, clerical fancy readily pictured the return of the good old times when pious Bourbon kings and their official mistresses had fallen on their knees at the feet of Jesuit confessors, and allowed the reins of government to be pulled by the Church. Especially did the Pope look for the restoration of his full temporal power, the return of the lost legations in Italy. Both parties found themselves in grievous error. Napoleon not only believed he had done quite enough for the Church, but was inclined to think he had done too much. At any rate, he flatly declined to do more. He would not put priests in charge of the state schools; he would not restore the legations. He was ready to lavish respectful attentions upon the head of the Church, ready to aid him in restoring public worship, ready to fill his coffers with cash; but in the Concordat, the solemn contract already agreed on, he would make no change.