“If you do not defeat the King of Sweden, I think that I shall never forgive you,” she said fiercely.
Augustus, harassed, perplexed, and overwhelmed, took leave of her with less than his usual affection.
Hélène D’Einsiedel gave him a gentler “God-speed,” while she thanked God in her heart that Patkul was in Russia; far away, but safe from the approaching horror of battle, thought the poor girl, as she watched the army leave Cracovia.
In a few days came the news that Augustus had met Karl at Klissow, and that despite a desperate resistance and heroic bravery, had suffered a complete reverse, his stores, flags, artillery, falling into the hands of the Swedes who drove him before them in headlong flight.
Karl entered Cracovia as he had entered Varsovia, overwhelmed all by the sheer terror of his arms, established a Swedish garrison, taxed the town 100,000 rix-dollars, and proceeded to follow Augustus who fled towards Marienbourg.
Livid with anger and despair Aurora von Königsmarck had rushed from room to room of the palace, snatching her jewels, her gold and silver ornaments, her tapestries and clothes, calling together her maids, pages, dogs, and monkeys, and in hasty retreat with coaches and baggage-mules, fled to Lublin, accompanied by Mdle. D’Einsiedel, whose entire being was occupied in prayers for the safety of General Patkul.
When the weary women reached their new place of refuge they were relieved by the news that Augustus had a respite.
Karl, hotly pursuing his enemy, had fallen from his horse and broken his leg, which necessitated his return to Cracovia and would keep him confined several weeks to his bed.
“Now—if you have a man’s courage and a prince’s spirit—is your opportunity,” wrote Aurora, in a fiery letter to the vanquished Prince, who was striving to gather together once more his resources at Marienbourg.