Junot had given a grand dinner to celebrate the events of the day: the governors and the greater part of the nobles were present at this festival for the degradation of their country. He was repeatedly called out, as messenger after messenger arrived with news of the tumult; the cause of these frequent interruptions was indicated by his thoughtful manner, and the guests were presently informed that the people had mutinied, and that they themselves were to be considered as hostages. It was believed that he had invited them for that purpose, and it seems as if he had determined to provoke a tumult for the purpose of intimidating the Portugueze. The disturbance in the Terreiro do Paço had been put an end to, but the crowd had not dispersed, and the popular feelings were still in the highest excitement. Things were in this state when Junot adjourned with his guests to the opera; he had taken possession of the royal family’s box in the centre of the theatre, and from thence he ordered the French flag to be displayed over the pit during this night’s representation. The French who were present saluted it with shouts; many of the Portugueze left the theatre, and the news of this fresh insult increased the indignation of the people. The patroles could no longer restrain them; men, women, and boys ran through the streets, exclaiming “The five wounds for ever, and down with France!” It was fortunate for the Lisbonians that they had at this time a well disciplined police guard, raised by the Comte de Novion, a French emigrant, whom General Frazer, when he commanded the British forces in Portugal, had first patronized and recommended to the Portugueze government, and who having rendered essential service to the city by the establishment of this body, was now become one of the most active and efficient agents of the new tyranny. These guards formed the principal part of the force which was called out against the people, and they levelled their pieces so as to spare their countrymen. The firing continued between three and four hours; but for this cause, and because the mob, who had neither arms, nor plan, nor leaders, were more loud than dangerous, few lives were lost. The firing ceased about nine o’clock: the remainder of the night was actively employed by the French; when morning appeared, cannon were seen planted at the door of the commander in chief, 1200 men were drawn up in the square, with horses and artillery, and the streets were every where filled with patroles of soldiers. In the course of the day a few straggling Frenchmen were killed, and some seven or eight of the people. The mob saw the danger of attacking so overpowering a force, and did not venture to engage against musketry and cannon with their knives. Had they been armed, nothing could have preserved Lisbon from a massacre. The few native corps which still remained in the city were confined to their quarters during the tumult; they would else probably have taken