But the expressions in this manifesto were vague and obscure instead of being open and frank, and Ferdinand found that the realm which had been outraged by six years of autocratic tyranny was as difficult to get back to subjection as an unbridled horse left to its own course. Discontented with the lack of any binding promise in the King’s manifesto that he would protect their constitutional rights, the people returned in crowds to the palace, and the air echoed with their loud cries for justice. The Royal Guard itself was lax in checking this public ebullition of feeling, and the people began to press up the royal staircase, when the King sent his emissaries to check their progress and calm the sedition with promises to give attention to their petitions. But these promises did not satisfy the people, and the Marquis of Miraflores returned to the King to say that the citizens demanded His Majesty to take his solemn oath of the Constitution of the country in presence of the Corporation and the Commissioners of the people. Despotic as he was when in safety, Ferdinand was weak and cowardly in danger, so he concealed his annoyance at the demand of the Commission, and, with well-assumed benignity, took the desired oath in the Ambassadors’ Salon at the palace. But afterwards, when alone with his favourites, Ferdinand gave vent to the rage which he felt at having been thus forced to do what was contrary to his love of despotism. Indeed, this despotism was inherent in Ferdinand both by instinct and education, and Queen Amalia’s sphere of usefulness was limited to her never-ending self-imposed task of making garments for the poor. Spain saw the sad hearts of those whose parents, husbands, sons, or friends, were condemned to exile or poverty for no better cause than for having been friendly with the French, whom their King himself had flattered with every expression of obedience and service. The promises for the restitution of the property which had been thus confiscated came too late to check the surging insurrectionary state of the people, and on the night of July 8, 1820, the insurrection in the barracks of the King’s own Guard, in favour of those who were proclaiming Liberty throughout the country, struck terror into the pusillanimous heart of the King, and it was only the death of the standard-bearer which prevented the revolution becoming very serious. Moreover, the palace itself was the seat of a plot headed by Baso, the King’s secretary, and Erroz, his private chaplain. The object of this plot was to get possession of the King’s person on the road from Burgos, and to proclaim a republic.