Early on the morning of Sunday, the seventh of August, the Empress came to Paris and immediately sent for the ministers and the presidents of the Legislative Assembly and the Senate. The next day Paris was declared in a state of siege and a proclamation issued by the Empress, urging the citizens to maintain order and rally to the support of France that her losses might be retrieved. She already imagined herself at the head of affairs, taking active measures for the defence of the capital, cheering on the troops, and firing them with courage, a role that particularly appealed to her fancy; but the appeal made little impression. The people, only too familiar with her fondness for theatrical effect and admiration, clamored for action. Declamation was little to the purpose. They wanted victories, not comedies! Public irritation vented itself first of all against the ministry, which was forced to resign. Émile Ollivier was succeeded by the aged General Montauban, Count of Palikao, who had distinguished himself in the war against China; while Trochu was appointed Governor of Paris. Further to satisfy popular sentiment, Napoleon was forced to resign his position as Generalissimo in favor of Marshal Bazaine, who accordingly assumed the chief command of the army. Under normal conditions the Emperor’s place would now have been in Paris; but the new ministry, as well as the Empress herself, protested against his return. Disheartened by the long delays, sore with disappointed hopes, and furious at the supposed mistakes of the generals, the people of Paris were ripe for revolution, and only a spark was needed to set them aflame. The imperial pair were overwhelmed with scorn and abuse. Already their throne was tottering, and with the victorious advance of the Germans, conviction of its speedy downfall grew daily stronger. Never before had the Empress found herself in so critical a situation. The new ministry lacked the confidence of the public and could be of no help to her. She had no tried general to depend upon, and every trace of the troops’ devotion to the house of Napoleon had long since vanished. She stood alone and defenceless against an enraged populace only awaiting a pretext to hurl itself upon her. With this daily-increasing excitement, the brawls and dissensions caused by the army’s defeats on the frontier, and universal anxiety for the fate of the country, Eugénie began to understand how grievously she had erred in urging on this “little war,” as she had referred to it in the beginning of the campaign. Fears as to the fate of her own husband and child made her realize for the first time the suffering of thousands of other wives and mothers. She felt the necessity of uniting with them in some active work, and was tireless in her efforts to atone in some measure for the wrong she had thoughtlessly committed.