When Nedjo Cabrinovic, Gavro Princip's fellow conspirator in the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo, Bosnia, on 28 June 1914, died in January 1916, Gavro Princip was also experiencing a severe decline in his health. He had been treated most harshly up to that point by the prison authorities, and for all of the 16 months since his 20 year prison sentence began was kept in chains and in solitary confinement. Both his hands were shackled to the wall of his dark cell. Gavro could do nothing but sit and stare into the darkness. It is an indirect testimony to the strength of Gavro's character that he did not lose his mental balance after a prolonged solitary confinement.
Soon after
Nedjo’s death Gavro tried to commit suicide by hanging, using a towel. He was
not successful. The authorities would not let him die. He would live for two
more years.
Soon after
the unsuccessful suicide attempt the prison authorities brought in the Viennese
psychiatrist, Dr. Pappenheim, to interview Gavro (what the poor man probably
needed at that time were good nutrition and medical care, and not an
interrogation by a psychiatrist).
Pappenheim
had a series of interviews with Gavro. As he got to know Pappenheim Gavro took
some pleasure in these meetings, but always kept his reserve. He told
Pappenheim that he found the solitary confinement extremely hard to cope with,
without books (which he loved reading) and without being able to speak to
anyone for days on end. His sleep was erratic, he told Pappenheim. He spoke
longingly of the small library of books he had built up. Books for me, he said,
signify life. If only he could have something to read for 2-3 days, he would be
able to express himself more clearly. He slept no more than 4 hours and nights
and dreamed constantly. But they were pleasant dreams—‘about life and love’.
When in
lucid mind Gavro thought about his country (Serbia). He would hear snippets of
information (presumably from prison guards) and was distressed to learn that
Serbia no longer existed. (At the beginning of the war the Serbian army was
routed by the advancing armies of Germany, Bulgaria and Austria-Hungary, and
forced to flee.)
Gavro told
Pappenheim that he believed the World War would have started anyway,
irrespective of the assassination. He had killed the Archduke for wanting to
revenge his people who, in his view, were oppressed terribly by the
Austro-Hungarian regime.
Gavro spoke
about his suicide attempt. It was about midnight and he was in very low
spirits. And suddenly the idea came into his mind to end it all by hanging. It
would be stupid to hope, he said.
By this time
Gavro was showing unmistakable signs that he was suffering from tuberculosis.
Pappenheim noted a fungus like growth on Gavro’s chest and arm.
Pappenheim
noted that Gavro was always hungry and nervous. He made the obvious observation
that the prisoner ought to have more sun and air. (The good doctor did not make
his views known to the prison authorities, presumably thinking it was futile.)
Gavro’s demeanour made it obvious to Pappenheim that he no longer had any hopes
for anything; his life was finished. Everything that was linked to his ideals,
he felt, was destroyed.
Gavro spoke
a little bit about the assassination. He told Pappenheim that he was aware that
there had been attempts at assassinations before, and the perpetrators were
like heroes to young Serbians. He, Gavro, however, so he would tell Pappenheim,
had no wish to become a hero. He merely wanted to sacrifice his life for his
ideology. Before the assassination, Gavro had read an article by Kroptokin
about what one can and should do in case of a worldwide social revolution.
Gavro had studied this article and repeatedly talked about it with his friends.
He had convinced himself that a worldwide social revolution was possible. (The
assassination of Franz Ferdinand was presumably an important first step in the
right direction.)
Gavro talked
of his friendship with Danilo Ilic, Nedjo Cabrinovic and Trifko Grabez, and how Milan Ciganovic came to be involved. He made it clear that the assassination was not
the idea of Major Tankosic (of Komite army
and a member of the Black Hand);
indeed Tankosic had not been made aware of the target of the assassination
until the last minute.
Pappenheim
gave Gavro a pen and paper and invited him to write something about the social
revolution. Gavro was pleased, not least because it was the first time in
almost two years he was holding a pen in his hand. But he could not carry on
for long. He said he had to stop because he was feeling ill and his thoughts,
he said, were gone from his head.
At one stage
Pappenheim asked Gavro whether he thought the assassination of the Archduke was
a service in the light of what had happened in its wake (World War). At this
Gavro became agitated. He said he could not believe that the Great War was the
consequence of the assassination; he did not hold himself responsible for the
catastrophe; therefore he could not say whether the assassination had been of
service or not.
As
Pappenheim continued to meet Gavro he noticed that his wounds were getting
worse. The wounds were discharging freely and Gavro was miserable yet resigned.
He told Pappenheim that he had no sure means to kill himself and suicide was
impossible. He simply had to wait till the end.
Pappenheim
asked Gavro—the kind of non sequitur only psychiatrists seem capable of
making—how he felt and what he thought about. Gavro would have him believe that
for most of the time he was in a philosophical mood. He thought about human
soul. In his mind he struggled with questions such as what was the essential in
human life—intrinsic will or spirit; and what moved man.
Gavro made
it clear to Pappenheim that while many people who talked to him had formed the
impression—owing to Gavro’s young age—that he must have been influenced by
others, it was not so. People, he felt, formed that impression, because he was
not a gifted talker—he was more of a reader—and could not express himself properly.
When
Pappenheim met with Gavro for the fourth and last time, Gavro’s health had
worsened considerably. The wound on the arm had suppurated. The arm, Pappenheim
noted, clinically, would have to be amputated. Gavro looked resigned to his
fate and was awaiting death.
The death
would not oblige Gavro so easily and so soon. There was further suffering to be
endured. Two more years, to be exact.
Dr.
Pappenheim took notes of what Gavro said to him. He had apparently no
intention of publishing them; but neither did he destroy them. In the 1920s,
Dr. Pappenheim was introduced to one Ratko Parezanin, a former Young Bosnian who had settled in Vienna.
Parezanin persuaded Pappenheim to publish these notes. Pappenheim agreed,
ignoring the views of his wife, who was against the publication. The notes were
first published in German. In 1927, they appeared in New York Times Current History (Issue 5), under the headline: ‘Confessions of the Assassin Whose Deed Led to the World War’.
The assassin
was dead for nine years by the time Pappenheim’s notes were published.
Dr. Martin Pappenheim
The last
years of Gavro’s life were indescribably horrendous. A doctor named Marsch saw
Gavro in his last years, wasted to the bone and several tuberculosis ulcers,
some as large as the palm of a hand, on his body. There was little doubt in
Dr.Marsch’s mind that Gavro had been carrying the disease before his arrest.
Tuberculosis
spread to Gavro’s bones and began corroding his elbow joint. There were
suppurating ulcers all over his body. At this stage he was removed to the
hospital. He was still considered a ‘dangerous prisoner’ who could escape and
there was always a soldier in Gavro’s room! The doctors pointed out that this
was unnecessary as Gavro could barely walk at this stage. But the soldier
remained.
Dr.Marsch’s
observations were similar to those of Dr. Pappenheim. At this stage Gavro had
grown a long beard over his two years in prison. However when it was shaved
off, the doctor felt that his young face was intelligent and full of
expression. He seemed resigned to his inevitable fate. His eyes were sunken and
had lost the fire. He told the doctor that his earthly life was finished and
was waiting for the end. The only time he appeared to come to life when he
spoke of the liberation of his people. He spoke about his ‘short life’ and his
family. He never mentioned The Black Hand.
This is how
Dr. Marsch noted down Gavro’s appearance:
‘The slim, frail body showed a typical tubercular
appearance . . . His chest was covered with tubercular ulcers of hand size and
full of pus. The disease had destroyed the elbow joint of his left hand to such
an extent that the lower part of the arm had to be connected with the upper
part with a silver wire. Why the doctors were forbidden to amputate the lower
part of his arm which had become completely useless I am unable to explain to
this day.’
Gavro
required extensive dressing of his wounds every two days, which was provided.
His wounds were so extensive the whole of his upper torso had to be covered,
requiring bandages that would have covered five people.
A Jewish
doctor (who actually was an inmate after he issued some false health
certificate) showed Gavro kindness by bringing his pieces of chocolate he had
received from home. That ended when the doctor killed himself, upon learning
that his fiancé had died.
In his last
year, Gavro’s prison guards were predominantly Czech and came to treat him with
sympathy. Many apparently kept him
informed of the events, as the Great War unleashed by the assassination Gavro
carried out, entered its last phase.
Gavro’s arm
was eventually amputated, although it probably did little to alleviate the pain
and misery of his last months.
Gavro did
not see out the Great War. He died on 28 April 1918 at 6.30 am. The war would
go on for a few more months.
The cause of
death given was tuberculosis of bones. At the time of his death, Gavro was
three months short of his 24th birthday.
Gavro did
not live to see the misfortune that befell his mother. Gavro’s mother outlived
her son by twenty years and ended her days in extreme poverty, begging on
streets. She died just before the Second World War.
The prison
authorities ordered five prison guards to take Gavro’s body to a nearby
catholic cemetery for a secret burial. The guards were led by a young Czech
officer, Frantisek Lebl. Lebl had earlier overseen the burials of Nedjo and
Grabez, and secretly noted down the locations.
When Lebl
arrived at the cemetery he noted that Gavro would be sharing his plot not with
his fellow-conspirators but with a young prisoner who had died. The grave was
already dug, in the middle of a path, where he would be forever trampled upon
by the passing public. (No doubt, one last calculated insults by the
Austrians.) That night Lebl made a sketch of the cemetery, noting down the
location of the grave. He then posted it to his father in case he was killed in
action.
Frantisek
Lebl survived the war. After the war he went straight to the cemetery in
Terezin and put a Czech flag on Gavro’s grave.
Prison Cell where Gavro Princip was incarcerated.
