A Personal Look at Mechnikov: “We Must Continue Living, Not Ageing”

The Nobel Prize winner and outstanding scientist Ilya Mechnikov, whose 160th birth anniversary we are marking at this time, began his ascent to prominence in Ukraine’s Smila district. Ilya Mechnikov owed his deliverance from loneliness, depression, and despair to his love for Olha Mykolayivna Bilokopytova. A native of the village of Popivka in Smila district, she entered his life as an angel of happiness and optimism. Thanks to his wife, Mechnikov was able to find harmony in life, which he had lacked in adolescence, and devote himself fully to science. It was after his marriage to Olha that he made his greatest discoveries. He started his research into the body’s defenses, which led him to develop his brilliant phagocytosis theory of immunity while working in a simple home laboratory at the Popivka estate belonging to his in-laws.

Throughout her life Olha was a source of strength and support for her husband. She both comforted and assisted him. It’s not surprising that Ilya Mechnikov not only loved his wife tenderly until his death, but also deeply respected her as a person. Even in ripe old age his feelings for her were as strong as in the days of his youth. It is no accident that Olha, who survived her husband by many years, wrote in her memoirs: “We lived in perfect unity and achieved total spiritual fusion and mutual understanding, which left no room for shadows, only all-pervading light.”

A GRAVE SMOTHERED IN FLOWERS

A young and promising assistant professor at Novorossiysk (Odesa) University, Ilya Mechnikov became disillusioned with St. Petersburg. In 1867 he traveled to the Russian Empire’s northern capital in the hopes of finding better conditions for research, only to find unheated university laboratories that were also chilling to the soul. Poor living conditions and lack of funds forced him to moonlight and pinch pennies.

He failed to obtain an appointment to chair the zoology department at the Medical Academy, a position for which he was recommended by Ivan Sechenov, the father of Russian physiology. This losing streak and unfulfilled ambitions led to depression, which brought the young scientist to the verge of despair. His only consolation was the family of Professor Andrei Beketov. Ilya Mechnikov had befriended Beketov’s children and even entertained the idea that by controlling the upbringing of Beketov’s oldest daughter he would be able to mold her into a perfect wife and prepare a companion for his future life. But this was not destined to happen, for it was Beketov’s niece, rather than his daughter, who soon became Mechnikov’s bride. In 1868 the hapless dreamer developed a severe form of angina. After learning about his young colleague’s ailment, the professor brought him to his home to recover. Beketov’s niece, Liudmyla Fedorovych, nursed him back to health in a most sensitive and touching manner. As they grew closer, their friendship turned to love. In the spring of 1868 Mechnikov wrote in his diary: “I wandered and felt the incredible need to be loved, the desire for various expressions of tender feelings. Of course, I recalled the [professor’s] children, but most of my thoughts were about Liu [Liudmyla].”

In January 1869 St. Petersburg witnessed the unusual wedding ceremony of a robust young man and a pale young woman, who was brought into the church in a chair — Illa Mechnikov and his bride, who was succumbing to tuberculosis. Mechnikov’s marriage to Liudmyla Fedorovych did not bring him the peace he so craved. His wife was dying, and he traveled with her from hospital to hospital, hoping for a miracle. He tried to cure her with koumiss at his parents’ estate in Kharkiv province. He secured a subsidy from his university to take her to Italy, and then to Switzerland and Normandy. When nothing seemed to be helping his wife, Mechnikov decided on a final desperate effort. After returning to Odesa, he arranged for a research trip abroad and took Liudmyla to the paradise island of Madeira in the Atlantic Ocean.

On one of his field trips Mechnikov discovered a cave with bones and skulls that belonged to the natives of the island, the tall, blue- eyed Guanches whom the Spaniards never conquered. They preferred to die rather than surrender. The bones and skulls that were discovered by Mechnikov, as well as the natives’ dolphin-like whistling language, which was subsequently adopted by their conquerors, is all that remained of the original inhabitants of these islands. Given a little more time and luck, the researcher from faraway Russia would have discovered the ancient mummies of the Guanches, which closely resembled the Egyptian mummies. In his memoirs Mechnikov described Tenerife as an “island of heroes” and Madeira as a “grave smothered in flowers.” He couldn’t have been closer to the truth. The black-humored Englishmen also referred to the island as “one of London’s many graveyards.”

All his efforts were in vain and his Liudmyla was dying. Mechnikov was powerless to do anything about it and felt an agonizing sense of helplessness. He couldn’t care less about the Paris Commune. He saw his Liu wasting away amid the magnificent nature, and he too was losing his desire to live.

Liudmyla passed away on April 20, 1873. There was no wheeled transport on Madeira, so Mechnikov’s wife was placed on an ox-drawn sleigh. She was buried amid tropical flowers. Refusing to attend the funeral, Mechnikov tore his works to pieces, destroying many valuable studies and documents. Plumbing the depths of despair and grief, Mechnikov began contemplating suicide. Before leaving for Russia with his sister-in-law Nadiya, he furtively slipped a vial of morphine into his breast pocket.

MECHNIKOV’S CURIOSITY AVERTS HIS DEATH

Their journey took them through Spain, where an insurrection was raging. The travelers were stopped by patrols and they came under occasional fire. Nadiya was panic- stricken, while Mechnikov remained oblivious to the unfolding drama. He was withdrawing further into himself. The emotional trauma undermined his eyesight, and he was becoming blind. This was the last straw, and he ingested the poison in Switzerland, finally on the way to finding peace. But he didn’t die: Mechnikov had overlooked the fact that excessive doses of morphine cause vomiting, which prevents poisoning.

He regained consciousness but not his desire to live. “Perhaps I should become severely ill. Then I will either die or regain my desire to live,” he decided.

On a cold, rainy day Mechnikov took a hot bath and poured several bucketfuls of ice-cold water over his head. Dressed lightly, he went out into the stinging cold wind. He roamed the streets, lost in oblivion. On a bridge across the River Rona the would-be suicide stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on the lanterns. What could have captured the attention of a person contemplating suicide? Perhaps only something that was more compelling than death. For Mechnikov a scientific riddle proved to be more potent. Insects were swarming in the light of the lanterns, as Mechnikov watched their movements thoughtfully. Having mistaken them for dayflies, he wondered: “How does the natural selection theory apply to these insects, if they live without food and therefore do not participate in the struggle for survival, and their life span is too short for them to adapt to ambient conditions?” That night marked a watershed in Mechnikov’s life.

WHAT’S ALL THAT NOISE UPSTAIRS?

At 10:00 a.m. on September 13, 1876, Ilya Mechnikov wrote in a letter to his second wife: “I’ve just returned to our empty, lonely apartment, where I feel so sad and miserable without my precious girl, my desired joy. As soon as the steamer was out of sight, I started thinking about my darling and what I could do to please her.”

When Mechnikov wrote these lines, a year had not passed since his marriage to sixteen-year-old Olha Mykolayivna Bilokopytova. On the day of their wedding, St. Valentine’s Day in 1875, Mechnikov was approaching his 30th birthday. A scholar and professor at Novorossiysk University, Mechnikov was a mature and respectable man. A recluse by reputation, he surprised everybody with his outburst of youthful feeling for a young and inexperienced maiden.

After the death of his first wife, which was an utter tragedy for the scientist, he went on two field trips to the steppes of Astrakhan and Stavropol, where he researched the anthropology of the Kalmyks. A biologist and naturalist, he was forced to switch temporarily to this kind of research because of his eye disease. Meanwhile, his gloom and depression were reflected in his science articles, his concept of the “disharmony of the human nature,” and his pessimistic outlook on life.

His only consolation was his university work and friends: Ivan Sechenov, Aleksandr (Oleksandr) Kovalevsky, and Nikolai (Mykola) Umov. Mechnikov was neighbors with the family of Mykola Ivanovych Bilokopytov, the leader of the Odesa gentry. The noise of pattering feet upstairs kept Mechnikov awake every night, leaving him with a headache every morning. On one such morning he couldn’t stand the noise any more and went upstairs to confront his noisy neighbors. It turned out that the noise was coming from Mykola Bilokopytov’s children, who were horsing around. Of course, they were reprimanded in the presence of the young professor. A while later Mechnikov learned from his former disciple Shmankevych, who taught biology at the Odesa Female High School, that Olha Bilokopytova was one of his students and very keen on zoology.

At the time Olha Bilokopytova was a pretty, slender fifteen-year-old girl with a long blond braid. It was her and her twin sister Katrusia’s horseplay that had annoyed Mechnikov. However, the news of the girl’s penchant for zoology sparked his interest in her. Perhaps to make up for the slight misunderstanding between him and the Bilokopytov family, Mechnikov offered to tutor Olha in her favorite subject. The girl readily accepted his proposal.

However, it appears that Olha was not so much interested in insights into zoology as in the handsome, unmarried professor. Meanwhile, Ilya became totally infatuated with the wise and charming girl. Therefore, the events that ensued were perhaps destined to happen. Over the protests of Olha’s father the couple got married.

LOVE SONG

During long periods away from home Ilya Mechnikov would write to his wife every day or even several times a day. Over 400 of his letters to his beloved wife were published in two volumes in 1978 and 1980 by the Moscow-based Nauka publishing house. His correspondence is a unique diary of life and science, but primarily a sincere and emotional love song, touching and inspiring evidence of his passionate and tender love for his “girl.” Apparently, he felt this way not so much because she was attractive, but because he simply couldn’t live without her.

Consider, for example, several fragments from his letters of March 1878: “Your peace of mind is more important to me than anything in this world. I won’t rest until I talk (through letters) to my darling little one” (March 4). “How did you sleep and how do you feel, my dear? While I’ve been away for only four days, it feels like it’s been a year. My darling, you ask if there are more partings in store for us. We must absolutely arrange things so that there won’t be any need to say goodbye ever again. Think of all the anxiety, worries, and sadness” (March 5).

In a letter sent on April 1901 from England, where Ilya Mechnikov had traveled at the invitation of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society to receive the Wilde Medal, he wrote: “Plenty of hugs and kisses to my darling girl, whom I strenuously request to watch herself. I love you strongly and deeply.” While attending a September 1907 congress in Berlin, the 62-year-old scientist complained to his 49-year-old wife: “You can’t imagine, my love, how much I crave to return home. Two or three days away from home I can take, but anything longer than that and I am overcome with an overwhelming desire to leave as soon as possible. I’m kissing you, strongly and passionately, my darling, my beloved girl.” When he wrote these lines, the scientist no longer resembled the neurotic scientist who wrote about the “disharmony of human nature.” His new philosophy was one of optimism.

Of course, there were occasional misunderstandings between Mechnikov and his wife. Among the 400 letters there are only a few in which he is desperately trying to prove that she is everything to him. At a certain point Olha had suddenly decided that she was a burden to her husband. In several letters he attempted to placate her jealousy of his goddaughters. Yet to some extent Olha’s feelings were justified, because in his old age Mechnikov realized that children could also bring much joy. The two never had their own children because doctors had warned Olha not to become pregnant.

For Ilya Mechnikov his wife was not simply a beautiful woman and lifelong companion. Above all, he respected her as an individual and encouraged her creativity in every possible way. In 1891 Mechnikov built her an art studio in the garden of their dacha in Sevres outside Paris. Olha was a gifted artist and sculptor. In fact, after her husband’s death she lived off her artworks. In May 1900 she walked away with a bronze medal awarded at an international exhibition in Paris. In May 1923 she displayed her works in a solo exhibition in Paris. She was repeatedly elected to chair the Free Society of Arts.

Olha also translated almost all of Mechnikov’s studies from French into Russian. She actively assisted her husband in his work and mastered techniques of histology and bacteriology to prepare samples and cultures for his research and lectures at the Pasteur Institute. She independently conducted and published several studies. Finally, she wrote a book of memoirs about the outstanding scientist and preserved his letters.

THE FINAL ENCYCLOPEDIST

In his last will and testament dated April 20, 1908, Ilya Mechnikov recognized that he had lived a happy life. In his time the French literary great Henri Marie Beyle (Stendhal) devised a formula of happiness, which he believed to be the sum of love and work. Mechnikov loved passionately and did plenty of his favorite work. It is difficult to overstate his contribution to science. He made countless discoveries in zoology, parasitology, and embryology. His greatest scientific achievement was the discovery of phagocytosis, which was based on his concepts of the evolution of the digestive function in animals. Mechnikov proved that phagocytes (specific cells found in animals) can engulf and digest foreign particles and invading bacteria. This defensive adaptation of organisms plays a tremendous role in their survival. Mechnikov’s phagocytosis theory met with vehement resistance from veteran scientists. But, through his research and exhaustive scientific discussions, Mechnikov succeeded in proving his skeptics wrong. Moreover, to some extent he managed to reconcile his concepts of immunity as a phagocytosis phenomenon with essentially chemical concepts of immunology that were reflected in the works of the prominent German bacteriologist Paul Erlich. It seems the Nobel Committee was of the same opinion, because in 1908 it awarded a Nobel Prize both to Mechnikov and Erlich.

Notably, Mechnikov’s theory explained not only the phenomena of inflammation and immunity. He expanded it to cover atrophy and ageing processes in animals. Mechnikov also researched the bacteriology, etiology, and epidemiology of such dangerous human diseases as cholera, plague, tuberculosis, syphilis, typhoid fever, etc. Finally, he dedicated the last fifteen years of his life almost entirely to researching the problems of old age and death, and proposed the theory of orthobiosis — a happy old age and peaceful death. He claimed that freeing humans from disease could prolong their life span to 150 or 160 years. He dedicated countless studies to the problems of life span, ageing, and natural death. Mechnikov is thus the founder of gerontology, an important field in contemporary medical science. Incidentally, he also coined this term.

Mechnikov is also the founder of chemotherapy. His research into cytokines (antibodies) facilitated modern insights into the nature of transplant rejection. Therefore, he was also at the forefront of this nascent field in medical science.

Mechnikov’s profound philosophical treatises — “Studies on Human Nature” (1903), “Studies on Optimism” (1907), and “Forty Years in Search of a Rational Worldview” (1913) — contain his philosophical credo and scientific testament for succeeding generations. Especially noteworthy is his conviction that “we must continue living, not ageing.” Ilya Mechnikov also focused on such a complex issue as the moral aspects of science. He was known for his revolutionary views on upbringing and marriage, which resulted from his research on the influence of love on the creative potential of celebrated individuals.

Ilya Mechnikov was rightfully considered one of the world’s last encyclopedists. His zeal for work was impressive and sometimes alarmed his wife. For example, it took him only one year to write his voluminous 600- page thesis entitled “Immunity to Infectious Diseases.” Interestingly enough, only after producing a new chapter would he supplement it with accurate bibliographic references to books that he quoted from memory. Mechnikov had a phenomenal memory and ability to simultaneously contemplate and generalize various issues and data. Even though his predecessors had observed the phenomenon of phagocytosis, they failed to give meaning to it. Meanwhile, Mechnikov understood that he was dealing not with an isolated phenomenon but with a profound biological problem. This was the special attribute of his genius — he was reasoning in a way that nobody had done before him. Mechnikov was staunchly dedicated to science and spent his own money to buy human-like apes and even crocodiles for his tests. On July 22, 1910, he sent a letter to his wife, who was then sketching in the foothills of the Pyrenees, saying, “There is nothing better than work. It is both pleasurable and useful, and better than any recreation. It is tremendously rewarding.” However, in a letter sent days later Mechnikov asked his Olha with concern: “My darling, not receiving a message from you today troubles me. What could this mean? Don’t tell me you have fallen ill. I look forward to the end of this separation. Not only can I not work, I cannot even write.”

A WOULD-BE LANDOWNER

After their marriage the Mechnikovs regularly spent their summer vacations in Popivka, a village in Smila district, where they stayed with Olha’s parents. (Olha’s mother Anna received the estate as a present from her father, quartermaster I. Krasovsky, who had bought it from Count Samolov). They settled on the estate for a longer period when Mechnikov quit his zoology and comparative anatomy professorship at Novorossiysk University in protest against the reactionary policies of the Ministry of Education. Another unfortunate reason behind their relocation was the death of Olha’s father in 1881 and her mother in 1882. Ilya Mechnikov took it upon himself to be the guardian of his wife’s siblings. His new responsibilities required frequent travel to Kyiv, Cherkasy, and Smila. His letters of this period were postmarked at many locations throughout Cherkasy province: Kamyanka, Chyhyryn and surrounding villages, railway stations named after the Counts Bobrynskys (later renamed in honor of Taras Shevchenko) and Volodymyrivka. Through his letters we learn how our predecessors lived in the 19th century. We also learn that people in those days were just like we are now, with similar problems and flaws, except that then people were more vulnerable and sensitive to one another. For example, even though Mechnikov didn’t have a medical degree, he never refused medical aid to his fellow villagers, and neither did Olha. From their letters we learn about a Popivka native named Bondarenko, who damaged his eye in a fight and received help from Mechnikov’s wife. Later, in a letter to a female friend Mechnikov wrote: “She treated the villagers of the Chyhyryn and Cherkasy districts so successfully and for so long that she finally felt the need to take a course in medicine in Geneva.”

In 1879 Popivka opened an elementary school built with Mechnikov’s money. Before that children were schooling in the village council building. Four years later Mechnikov actively assisted in the construction of a local parish school. Its premises are still in use to this day. His wife recalled: “Ilya began by donating his professor’s retirement gratuity to build a school on our estate in Popivka.” On September 9, 1883, Mechnikov wrote to his wife in Kyiv: “The school is close to completion and looks not bad at all. The roof is splendidly executed. The teachers’ rooms have turned out to be much more spacious than we expected. Even the kitchen is quite roomy.”

In the fall of 1882 the Mechnikovs traveled with Olha’s siblings to spend the winter and spring in Messina, Italy. Here Mechnikov conducted research that laid the groundwork for his phagocytosis theory: “In Messina I encountered a turning point in my scientific career. A zoologist until then, I immediately became a pathologist. I entered on a new path that formed the core of my subsequent efforts.” He also conducted research in his home laboratory in Popivka. With his student Yakiv Bardakh (the future professor of Novorossiysk University) Mechnikov researched the origin of fishes and invertebrates. He used a local creek called Hnyly Tashlyk as a testing ground for his research.

Mechnikov always tried to put his knowledge to practical use. One example was his method for pest control, which he introduced in Smila district. The sugar refining industry had grown rapidly in the 19th century, and the local Counts Bobrynskys of Smila pioneered this industry. In one decade they built seven sugar refining plants on their estate outside Smila. They planted sugar beets on vast acreage. But the crops were damaged by weevils. Young and old were mobilized to protect the crops from the voracious beetles, but they were outnumbered. Grain crops were also affected. This was also a problem for Mechnikov, who was managing the former Bilokopytov estate. Working on a pest control substance, he recalled seeing dead weevils that were covered in some sort of mold. Tests confirmed it as fungi. Mechnikov isolated a pure strain of the fungus, which killed the beetles. “At first he conducted tests in his laboratory, and later Count Bobrynsky allowed him to test his substance in the fields. The results proved very promising,” Olha recalled. In February 1881 Ilya Mechnikov traveled to Odesa to present his report entitled “On the Application of Fungi in Pest Control.” It was the world’s first attempt to use biological methods to combat pests and plant disease.

In 1883 Mechnikov and the entomologist Isaac Krasylshchyk set up a small facility to produce a fungus culture called muscardine. They experimented with the new fungus for nearly three years, spraying it in the fields of Count Bobrynsky’s Sofiyivka Estate in the Smila economic area. Soon Mechnikov’s new method of pest control spread throughout the Russian Empire. It wasn’t until half a year later that France stated developing similar substances.

In August 1883 Mechnikov traveled to Odesa for the Seventh Congress of Russian Naturalists and Doctors, where he presented his phagocytosis theory of immunity to infectious disease to a vast audience of scientists. His presentation was a tremendous success.

As we can see, instead of quenching Mechnikov’s passion for science, Popivka stimulated him to new discoveries. At the same time, he was not an able landowner. The estate brought in little profit, and Mechnikov’s lease holders were running debts. Tensions ran especially high in the village of Krasnosilka, where the villagers clashed with the lease holder, Guttman. The villagers destroyed sugar beet crops on the land leased by Guttman. Mechnikov tried to strike a compromise, but to no avail. In 1884 the villagers killed Guttman’s watchman. As a result, twelve villagers from Krasnosilka were deported to Sakhalin. These events were some of the reasons that forced the Mechnikovs to immigrate to France.

Still, they never forgot Popivka, and Mechnikov visited it over the next thirteen years; the land of Smila had become his second home. In May 1902 the Mechnikovs visited the village for the last time, and that year the estate was sold. But even as late as 1911 they were still homesick for it, and their nostalgia for Popivka remained with them until their dying days.

A PIECE OF LITTLE RUSSIA IN FRANCE

Mechnikov spent the final 28 years of his life in Paris, working at the Louis Pasteur Institute. His freedom-loving nature, materialism, and principles didn’t mesh with the conservatism of the Russian reality. He was constantly in conflict with reactionary Russian professors who turned denunciations and intrigues into an art form. As Mechnikov wrote in his memoirs, it was better to go abroad and find a quiet refuge for his research. Thus, while Ilya Mechnikov was born in Ukraine (on May 5, 1845 in the village of Ivanivka, now Panasivka, in today’s Kharkiv oblast), he found peace of mind in faraway France. Globetrotting ran in Mechnikov’s family. It began with the legendary Mykola Milescu. Mykola was born into a Moldovan boyar family in 1636. Educated in Constantinople and Italy, he was one of the most educated individuals of his time. He earned the respect of Moldova’s ruler, who awarded him the honorable title of Spafary, or sword-bearer of the head of state. After some time the polyglot Milescu found himself in Russia, where he became the translator of Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich. Mykola Spafary was the first teacher of Peter I and later headed a diplomatic mission to China. Spafary’s son Yuriy and his grandson, who later assumed the last name of Mechnikov, settled outside of Kharkiv on lands granted to them by Peter I. This was the beginning of the aristocratic Mechnikov clan.

Ilya Mechnikov’s mother, Emiliya Lvivna, was descended from a Jewish family called Nevakhovych. A wealthy man, Leo Nevakhovych could afford to do translations of works by German philosophers, and he was acquainted with the works of Pushkin and Krylov.

However, young Ilya Mechnikov’s passion for nature was not sparked by Moldovan vineyards or Russian forests, but by the Ukrainian steppes. Perhaps this is why he never had any patriotic or pious feelings for the empire and the Russians. This clearly shows in Mechnikov’s letters to his wife. In May 1893 he wrote: “Ever since the Russians left my laboratory (in the Pasteur Institute) my life is much calmer and purer. The last thing I want is for them to come back.” In a letter dated May 1902 he wrote: “From your first few letters I realized that you are not at home in St. Petersburg and Russia. You see, my dear, fourteen years of life abroad were not in vain for you. What you call their gray and run-of-the-mill life is but their mean ways.”

In letters sent in 1897 from Moscow, where he attended the 12th International Medical Congress, Mechnikov complained about the inhospitable Russians in general and Muscovites in particular, and concluded that he’d rather spend his free day in Kyiv than in Moscow. To him St. Petersburg was “abominable.” In a letter dated March 6, 1904, Mechnikov noted: “Even when they are abroad, the Russians cannot learn the ways of society and remain as intolerant as they are in their homeland.”

Mechnikov clearly differentiated Russia from Ukraine. His letters confirm the fact that in the 19th century the Ukrainian language was still very much alive in Ukraine. Ukrainian culture dominated in the country’s east and south. After all, Ilya Mechnikov, who was raised in a Russian-speaking family, received his education in Russian, and lived mostly in cities, often used such fundamentally Ukrainian words as zhnyva (harvest), buriak (beetroot), nekhai (let it be), etc. Very often, especially in his final years, he lovingly referred to his wife as nenechka (a diminutive name for mother). He called his house in Sevres outside Paris a piece of “Little Russia” [i.e., Ukraine] in France. Saint-Legais, where the Mechnikovs vacationed in the summer, also reminded them of their native Ukraine. Meanwhile, they associated Ukraine primarily with their land of Smila and the Popivka estate.

Contemporary residents of Popivka still remember the Mechnikovs. Memories of the outstanding scientist and his wife have been passed down from generation to generation. In the mid-20th century the village buried its 102-year-old resident, S. Shevchenko, who was Mechnikov’s coachman and knew him very well.

There’s no telling whether Mechnikov would like present-day Popivka, but he would definitely recognize the old school, which today houses the Mechnikov museum. All the schoolchildren know that their village was home to an outstanding scientist, who built this school for their grandparents. Unfortunately, the local school was never named after the Nobel Prize winner despite numerous proposals. But memory is most important, and Popivka residents cherish warm and fond memories of Mechnikov and his wife.