"On the 18th of March the last provisions had been dealt out and at the same time the last attempt at breaking through the line of the besiegers had been ordered. This was carried out on the night of the 19th of March. It was shattered, however, against the unbreakable manifold ring of the Russian inclosing lines and against the superior forces which were brought in time to the threatened points. Our men were so weakened by their long fasting that it took them fully seven hours to make the march of seven kilometers, and even in this short stretch many of them had to lie down from exhaustion, yet they fought well and were bravely led by their officers.
"In spite of all this," Captain Lehmann, one of the escaped officers, reported, "the heroic garrison fought on, after their last sortie, for fully forty-eight hours, against assaults of the Russians which now set in with terrific violence. The men of the fortress were fully informed of the situation by an announcement of the commander. They knew that the provisions were at an end and this very knowledge spurred them on to make their last sacrifice. Practically all the nations of the monarchy were represented in the fortress. Tyrolese Landsturm held the south, Hungarians the west, Ruthenians and Poles the north, and lower Austrians the east. To this last battle the troops marched out singing, striving thus to master their weakness. On this occasion the above mentioned notice had fallen into the hands of the Russians and the prospect had thus been opened to them to seize the fortress with little effort. For two days and nights all the works of Przemysl were taken under, an uninterrupted terrible artillery fire, including that of modern howitzers of all calibers, up to eighteen centimeters. Then followed an assault at night on the east front, which, however, was again bloodily repelled."
Starvation is conducive neither to good feeling nor heroism, especially when it is superimposed upon an unbroken series of more or less disastrous experiences. Misfortune and the so-called "tradition of defeat" had dogged the steps of Austria's troops from the beginning of the war; unlucky generals—Dankl, Auffenberg, and others—had been relieved of their commands and replaced by "new blood"—Boehm-Ermolli, Boroyevitch von Bojna, and Von Pflanzer-Baltin. Of these three, two had as yet failed in carrying to success the German plans which had taken the place of those of their own strategists. Hence it is not at all improbable that the reports of dissensions among the garrison, which leaked out at the time, were substantially accurate. That jealousies broke out among the numerous races forming the Austrian Army—especially between the Slavonic and Germanic elements—is supported by strong evidence. The sentiments of the Slav subjects of Austria leaned more toward Russia than the empire of which they formed a considerable portion, while there was never any love lost between them and the Magyars. However that may be, the Slav regiments were reported to have refused obedience to the general's order for the last sortie, which was eventually undertaken by a force composed of the Twenty-third Hungarian Honved Division, a regiment of Hussars, and a Landwehr brigade, altogether about 30,000 men. Everything depended upon the venture, for not only were all their food supplies used up, but they had already eaten most of their horses. Instead, therefore, of making southward to where their comrades were fighting hard to tear themselves away from the Carpathian passes, the sortie turned toward the east, in the direction of Mosciska, twenty miles off, which was supposed to be the Russian supply base. This attempted foraging expedition—for it was nothing else—can only be defended on the broad general principle that it is better to do something than nothing as a last resort. Supplies were essential before any more could be undertaken to cut a passage through the strong double set of Russian lines that lay between the Carpathians and Przemysl; but that these supplies were stored at Mosciska was a pure speculation. Further, considering that the whole country was in their opponents' hands, a strength of 30,000 men was insufficient to attempt so hazardous an adventure. Even if they succeeded in breaking through, their return to the fortress was not assured. In that case, if they could not get back, they would have to go forward: eastward lay Lemberg, held by the Russians; northward was the Russian frontier, and southward stood the Russian forces holding the passes. Thus, in any case, however successful the expedition might prove, it meant breaking at least twice through lines which the enemy had spent months in strengthening or fortifying. Undeterred by the almost certain possibility of failure, the expedition of the "forlorn hope" set out across the plain of the San—and speedily came to grief. They had to pass by the strongest Russian artillery position, which was stationed in the low hollow through which the railway runs to Lemberg. Here a terrific hail of shells burst over their heads; rattle of machine guns and rifle fire tore great holes in their ranks; the stoutest courage and bravest hearts were unavailing against an enemy who could not be reached nor even seen. The number of killed and wounded in that fatal sortie has not been made public; that it was an enormous figure is certain. The Russians took 4,000 prisoners of those who survived the ordeal, and captured the forts on the western side directly after the struggling remnants had regained their starting place. General von Kusmanek issued his manifesto in the morning, and by the same night the sortie ended in disaster. Like the misdirected charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava in 1854, it was "brilliant, but it wasn't war."
One more attempt was made on Saturday, March 20, 1915, toward Oikovice, but it was easily frustrated by the vigilant Russians. On Sunday and Monday, the 21st and 22d of March, a number of explosions were heard in and around Przemysl. The Austrians were destroying everything possible previous to surrendering. Large quantities of explosives were thrown in the river; all kinds of arms were destroyed or rendered useless; three bridges were crippled; the few remaining horses were shot, and a railway bridge over the Wiar, which possessed no strategic value, was also destroyed. These tactics of destroying approaches naturally isolated the town more than ever, and made it exceedingly difficult afterward to convey food supplies to the starving population.
On Monday morning, March 22, 1915, the Austrian chief of staff appeared outside the lines of Przemysl under a flag of truce. He was blindfolded, driven by automobile to Russian headquarters, and ushered into the presence of General Selivanoff. When the bandage had been removed from his eyes, the Austrian officer handed over a letter of capitulation from General von Kusmanek, which ran as follows:
"In consequence of the exhaustion of provisions and stores, and in compliance with instructions received from my supreme chief, I am compelled to surrender the Imperial and Royal Fortress of Przemysl to the Imperial Russian Army."
The Russians took charge without any triumphal display. Some officers were sent to receive the surrender and take stock of the spoils. General von Kusmanek himself supplied the inventory, in which were listed 9 generals, 93 superior officers, 2,500 "Offiziere und Beamten" (subalterns and officials), and 117,000 rank and file, besides 1,000 pieces of ordnance, mostly useless, and a large quantity of shells and rifle cartridges.
General Artamoff was appointed military governor and to superintend the process of dispatching the prisoners into Russian territory, which was carried out at the rate of 10,000 a day. Extensive arrangements were set on foot to supply the inhabitants with food, drink, and other necessaries of life. As the Russians had not bombarded the town, its natural and artificial beauties had suffered no damage beyond that which the Austrians had themselves inflicted; only the outskirts and the fortifications had been injured by fire and explosion.
Thus fell, on March 22, 1915, Przemysl, "by its own momentum like an overripe fruit," and with a garrison twice as large as would have been adequate to defend it. To Austria the blow was a severe one, for it cost her about four army corps; the immediate advantage it brought to the Russians was the release of Selivanoff's army of 100,000 men, who were urgently required elsewhere. It was only a week earlier that the commander in chief of all the Austro-Hungarian armies, the Archduke Frederick, had granted an interview to an American journalist (Dr. J. T. Roche), in the course of which he stated: "We have only recently reached the point where we are really prepared to carry on a campaign as it should be carried under modern conditions of warfare. Now that our organization has been completed and all branches of the service are working harmoniously, we entertain no doubts as to our ability to hold the enemy at all points and to drive him back from that section of Galicia which is still in his possession."