General Lucchesi, who commanded the Austrian right wing, was convinced that the cavalry formed the Prussian right wing, and that the whole army, concealed behind the slopes, was marching to fall upon him.
In the belfry of the church at Leuthen, on the tops of windmills, and on other points of vantage, Austrian generals with their staffs were endeavouring to obtain a glimpse beyond those tiresome swells, and to discover what was going on behind them, but in vain.

There were the cavalry, moving occasionally from crest to crest, but nothing beyond that.
Lucchesi got more and more uneasy, and sent message after message to headquarters that he was about to be attacked, and must have a large reinforcement of horse.

The prince and Daun at first scoffed at the idea, knowing that the bogs in front of Nypern were impassable; but at last he sent a message to the effect that, if the cavalry did not come, he would not be responsible for the issue.
It was thought, therefore, that he must have some good ground for his insistence; and Daun sent off the reserve of horse, and several other regiments drawn from the left wing, and himself went off at a trot, at their head, to see what was the matter.
It was just as he started that the Prussians--with their music playing, and the men singing: Gieb dass ich thu mit fleiss was mir zu thun gebuhret (Grant that with zeal and strength this day I do) had passed Radaxford and reached Lobetintz, and were about to advance in an oblique line to the attack.

The king saw with delight the removal of so large a body of horse from the very point against which his troops would, in half an hour, be hurling themselves.
Nothing could have suited his plans better.
At a rapid pace, and with a precision and order as perfect as if upon level ground, suddenly the Prussians poured over the swells on the flank of Sagschuetz.

Nadasti, who commanded the Austrians there, was struck with astonishment at the spectacle of the Prussian army, which he believed to be far away, pouring down on his flank.