A UKRAINIAN ICARUS

Poet Mykola Vorony called Levko Matsiyevych Icarus. Shocked by the tragic death of the pilot, who was popular not only in Russia, but also all over Europe, he wrote a poem “in memory of Levko Matsiyevych, the first Ukrainian aviator.” Vorony was reminded of the legend about the young man with a pair of wax wings who flew too near the sun and paid for his audacity with his own life in the clear analogy. Matsiyevych was also a reckless flier who dared challenge the laws of gravity.

An all-Russia air show took place over the Komendantskoye Field in St. Petersburg, on September 24 (Old Style) 1910. Newspaper coverage at the time demonstrates that the event was a real sensation at the Russian capital and far beyond. Some reported 175,000 spectators, 20,000 air crews, several thousand police – mind-boggling figures for the period. People gathered to marvel at the flights still considered quite exotic, and all spoke of Russia’s number one pilot Mikhail Yefimov and Captain Leo Matsiyevych. They were admired the way the first astronauts would be decades later.

It has been said that several days prior to the air show Matsiyevych had flown with Russian Duma’s Speaker Guchkov and Prime Minister Stolypin. People mentioned his numerous prizes and the world’s first nighttime flights... His wife Aleksandra was among the spectators. She had also flown and knew about altitude; now, holding her breath, she watched Levko’s Farman circling again and again over the field. What happened next was later recounted by another participant in the air show, Nikolai Morozov, celebrated scientist and Narodnaya Volia veteran. He and Matsiyevych were friends. Nine days before the tragedy they had flown on board that same Farman... After the plane crash Morozov wrote the article “In Memory of Aviator L.M. Matsiyevych,” filled with pain from the loss of a friend, his profound respect for Matsiyevych as a personality, and bitterness over a situation that could not be remedied.

“Our best aviator is dead. He died before everyone’s eyes. We wanted to cry, asking ourselves, Why he of all people? He that was so sensitive, kind, energetic, versed in so many fields?...” This from a former Slisselburg prisoner sounded like a requiem... It was a clear autumnal evening, the Farman flew smoothly and then “suddenly, terribly high in the sky, the plane gave a lurch, then seemed to break in the middle, like a butterfly folding its wings, and began to fall in zigzags, like sheet of paper, and before it a human figure fell, quicker and quicker. It was over in half a minute, but seemed to last forever; we all saw and realized that Matsiyevych was falling to his death and that nothing could be done to save him... His death was instant...”

Captain Matsiyevych fell prey to a flaw in the design of “Airplane No.20.” When airborne, a bracing wire snapped and the propeller caught the wire, sending the aircraft plummeting. The pilot was not fastened to the seat and fell out... The tragedy at the Komendantskoye Field, however, gave rise to countless rumors and stories, some appearing in foreign publications. Some sources insisted it was a love-crossed suicide, others hinted at Matsiyevych’s involvement with an underground terrorist organization whose bosses allegedly ordered him to organize an air crash with Premier Stolypin on board, but that the pilot couldn’t muster the courage and then had to settle the account with his life.

Almost all of St. Petersburg attended the funeral, as demonstrated by contemporary photographs. An airship flew over the procession, reminding all of the cause to which the deceased had dedicated his life and of the eternal elusiveness of the sky... The captain was buried at the Nikolskoye Cemetery of the Monastery of St. Alexander Nevsky, to the accompaniment of an artillery salute. The grave was then covered under autumnal flowers and wreaths, among them one from Premier Stolypin...

However, the all-seeing eye of the St. Petersburg’s police department noticed a wreath from the capital’s Ukrainian community. The wreath was placed by Simon Petliura, “a petty bourgeois residing in the town of Poltava,” Levko Matsiyevych’s old friend... At this point some explaining is in order – rather a glimpse of Captain Matsiyevych’s dramatically short life story, so as to understand what the most important thing was for him...

In 1997, a memorial plaque was attached to the wall of a modest building in the center of Oleksandrivka, a small town in Kirovohrad oblast, 35 km from Chyhyryn. The legend reads that Levko Matsiyevych, “pioneer of aviation” and “distinguished figure in the social democratic movement of Ukraine” was born in that building in 1877. Among his ancestors one finds the rebellious Metropolitan Arseniy Matsiyevych of Tobolsk and All Siberia who, back in 1744, was the only member of the Holy Synod to take the oath of allegiance to the Tsar, because the text read that the Tsar was the supreme judge in all religious matters.

Levko’s father Makar Matsiyevych worked as an accountant at a sugar refinery leased by the merchant brothers Yakhnenko and Symyrenko. The future aviator spent the first nine years of his life in Oleksandrivka. He was then sent to Kyiv to study at Gymnasium No.3 in Podil. The boy had real talent and an insatiable thirst for knowledge, as evidenced by his graduation from three institutions of learning. True, he was expelled from the mechanics department of Kharkiv Technological Institute for involvement in “antigovernment unrest,” but he did receive an engineer’s diploma later, after defending a merchant ship project. After that he studied at the naval engineering college in Kronstadt and at the shipbuilding department of the Naval Academy.

He left an amazing record of engineering ideas and projects. When working at the Sevastopol seaport, he designed a armored cruiser, torpedo protection systems, submarines and took part in the construction of the cruiser Kagul and battleship Ioann Zlatoust [John Chrysostom]. Imagine, he also conceived the idea of the world’s first 25-aircraft carrier!

The early 20th century was marked by an impetuous enthusiasm for aeronautics. Matsiyevych found his niche there, too. Grand Prince Aleksandr Mikhailovich, on learning about his aircraft carrier project, invited Matsiyevych to join an aeronautics club. In May 1910, he went to Paris to buy the first shipment of Farmans for Russia and also to take flying lessons. There he met Mikhail Yefimov and Henri Garman, mastered several aircraft models, and finally received Pilot’s License No.178 at a French flying club.

Shortly before his death, Levko Matsiyevych and Mikhail Yefimov made the first night flights. He worked on a device to rescue the pilot in the event of an emergency landing on water and started writing the book “Aeronautics in a Naval War.”

Two elements – water and air – combined to determine his life plans. And there was the third one, public work – politics, to be precise. Matsiyevych, together with Antonovych, Rusiv, and Kaminsky, took an active part in the establishment of the Revolutionary Ukrainian Party (1900). His political views were marked by radicalism characteristic of the ideology of Mykola Mikhnovsky, as laid down in “Independent Ukraine,” a well-known program booklet.

When studying in Kharkiv, he dedicated a lot of time and energy to the student community. Among his friends at the time was Hnat Khotkevych, the writer and bandurist. Together they organized Ukrainian drama performances and were active in the educational domain. The museum in Oleksandrivka has copies of documents showing that Matsiyevych was under open police surveillance. When he went to Sevastopol it was not because he wanted to, but because he was banished there after being expelled from the institute. But he had talent. Engineer Matsiyevych was needed by the Navy, especially after the humiliating Russian defeats in the war with Japan.

He was not planning to give up his convictions. Without doubt, his prestige and popularity in Russia and abroad were a great attainment for the Ukrainian community at large. And if it wasn’t for the tragedy at the Komendantskoye Field, cutting his life short at the age of 33, he would have been among the fathers of the Ukrainian National Republic.

The Ukrainian circles he frequented would put forward the leader of the nation’s political and cultural revival. In 1903, when the Ivan Kotliarevsky statue was unveiled in Poltava, Levko Martsiyevych was photographed with a large group of people taking part in the ceremony meant to demonstrate the Ukrainian community’s growing strength. There he stands, a captain of medium height, red-haired, with a fixed stare. Beside him are Mykola Mikhnovsky, Mykhailo Starytsky, Yevhen Chykalenko, Mykola Arkas, Serhiy Yefremov, Olena Pchilka, Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky, Lesia Ukrainka... In fact, several dozen people who would shoulder the staggering weight of the destiny of the Ukrainian Nation.