Villars had intrenched himself in front of the woods; his men were so anxious to get under fire, that they threw away the rations of bread just served out; the allies looked sulkily at the works.

"We are going to fight moles again," they said.
There was a thick fog, as at Lutzen; the fighting went on from seven in the morning till midday.

Villars had yielded the right wing, by way of respect, to Bouffiers as his senior, says the allies' account, but the general command nevertheless devolved entirely upon him.

"At the hottest of the engagement, the marshal galloped furiously to the centre attacked by Prince Eugene.

It was a sort of jaws of hell, a pit of fire, sulphur, and saltpetre, which it seemed impossible to approach and live.