The night after his retreat from Arcis, Napoleon sent out a reconnaissance to Vitry, and finding it garrisoned by Prussians, swerved toward St. Dizier, which, after a smart combat, he entered on the twenty-third. This placed him midway between the lines of his enemy's communication both from Strasburg and from Basel; which of the two, he asked himself, would Schwarzenberg return to defend? Thinking only how best to bait his foe, he set his army in motion northward; the anxious Austrian would certainly struggle to retain the line in greatest danger. This illusion continued, French cavalry scoured the country, some of the Chatillon diplomats were captured, and the Emperor of Austria had a narrow escape at Bar. It seemed strange that the country-side as far as Langres was deserted, but the fact was apparently explained when the news came that the enemy were in force at Vitry; probably they had abandoned Troyes and had disregarded Brienne in order to divert him from his purpose. Alas for the self-deception of a ruined man! The enemy at Vitry were a body of eight thousand Russian cavalry from the Silesian army, sent, under Wintzengerode, to dog Napoleon's heels and deceive him, just as they actually did. Having left Vitry on the twenty-eighth, they were moving toward St. Dizier when Napoleon, believing that they formed the head of a powerful hostile column, fell upon them with needless fury, and all too easily put them to flight; two thousand were captured and five hundred killed. Thanks to Marmont's disobedience and bad judgment, Bluecher had opened communications with Schwarzenberg, and both were marching as swiftly as possible direct to Paris. Of this Napoleon remained ignorant until the twenty-eighth. From his prisoners the Emperor first gained a hint of the appalling truth. It was impossible to believe such reports. Orders were issued for an immediate return to Vitry in order to secure reliable information. Arrived before the place, Napoleon called a council of war to decide whether an attempt to storm it should be made. In the moment of deliberation news began to arrive in abundance: captured despatches and bulletins of the enemy, confirmed by definite information from the inhabitants of the surrounding country. There could no longer be any doubt: the enemy, with an advantage of three days' march, was on his way to Paris. The futility of his eastward movement appears to have struck Napoleon like a thunderbolt. Paris abandoned in theory was one thing; France virtually decapitated by the actual loss of its capital was quite another. The thought was unendurable. Mounting his horse, the unhappy man spurred back to St. Dizier, and closeted himself in silent communing with his maps.