He saw her for the first time in May 1859, when his friend, the critic Mykola Makarov, the brother of his old friend Opanas Markovych, drove him to a literary soiree at his sister Varvara Kartashevska’s place. All things Ukrainian were in fashion in St. Petersburg at that time. So the Kartashevskys’ maid, who was dressed from top to toe in Ukrainian clothing, waited on them.
Turgenev has provided the best description of the maid: “Mrs. Kartashevska used to have a Little Russian (Ukrainian) maid called Lukeria: she was young and fresh, although a bit coarse and not too beautiful, but sort of attractive, with marvelous fair hair and a posture either proud or tranquil, which is germane to her tribe.” Taras, who was homesick for his Ukrainian people, liked her at first sight.
But at that moment he was quite indifferent both to Lykera and the refined noblewoman Nadia Rakovych, who had been proposed to him as a wife by the members of his circle (she later married Pavel Annenkov). Too preoccupied, Shevchenko was dreaming about his return trip to Ukraine, where he was going to purchase some land above the Dnipro, build a house there, bring a wife into it, and start an ordinary life surrounded by a number of kids.
But that trip turned out to be a bitter one. He failed to find a wife. He wrote his poem “Maria” and was expelled from Ukraine for reciting its “sacrilegious” verses. He returned to St. Petersburg on Sept. 7, and commenced engraving and preparing the Kobzar for printing. He resumed his attendance at the Kartashevskys’ parties, and again Lykera waited on him. Unbeknownst to himself, he was growing fond of her. But the poet knew too well what a lady’s maid was, so he tried to overcome his passion.
On Jan. 4, 1860, Mykola Makarov wrote to Maria Markovych: “I haven’t seen Shevchenko for a long time; something is wrong with him. He seems to have fallen in love. That’s good. But he has become terribly short-tempered...”
In the spring of 1860 the Kartashevskys went abroad, leaving Lykera to Nadia Zabila, Panteleimon Kulish’s sister-in-law, who was considered a paragon of honesty. Working for the Kartashevskys, Lykera was practically a member of the family. When she was eight years old, her parents had died of cholera, and she was raised together with Varvara.
Now she had become an ordinary servant. She was openly ignored. Her Ukrainian garments were thrown into a drawer. She excelled at embroidery, but her masters considered it a silly whim. She had to fetch water from a well and wash the floors. Then Zabila and her sister Oleksandra Kulish moved to their country house in Strelne to spend the summer.
Nadia Zabila’s daughter writes: “In summer, as always, we moved to live in Strelne. Lykera went with us too. Shevchenko used to come to our place in the morning; he walked four versts from the station and returned home in the evening. He never went to listen to music; he mostly walked with us, children, in the garden near the house or farther in the meadow. Later, after he had fallen in love with Lykera, of course he would spend all his time with his beloved in ‘quiet conversations.’
“Mother hadn’t noticed anything special enough about Shevchenko or Lykera to guess what was going on between them. He seemed to treat her the same way as he might have treated any other girl from his country, who was an orphan: not more than friendlily and cordially. But how insulted mother was, when one day Taras came back from the garden after a long talk with Lykera and confessed that he loved the girl and had to marry her! When my mother heard the news, she felt as if the ceiling had collapsed on her head. She looked crushed...
“Goodness gracious!” she cried, frustrated in grief and surprise. “What do you think you are up to, Taras Hryhorovych? Don’t you know what Hlykera is?!”
“And at once, without hesitation, she told him all the bad things she knew about Lykera and began to convince him to drop his ridiculous intention. However, quite expectedly, Taras not only ignored her carelessly offered friendly advice, but became very angry with mother for insulting a person dear to him, and he responded passionately.
“Had my own father risen from his grave to forbid me that, I would not have listened to him!” With these words he left, angry with my mother...”
Shevchenko proposed to Lykera on July 27, 1860 and on July 28 she answered “yes.” In his Aug. 22, 1860, letter to Varfolomiy Shevchenko he writes: “I am just busy getting married... My future spouse’s name is Lykera — she is a serf, an orphan, a hired servant, like Kharyta was, but smarter, literate, and does not speak Muscovite. She is a girl from our country from the Nizhyn region. Our local compatriots, ladies in particular, became a bit stupider after hearing that God had blessed me with such a great thing. They are lamenting, ‘She’s not a match for you! She’s not a match for you!’ Let it seem so to them, but I know well that we suit each other!...We are going to get married after Pokrova...”
Taras Shevchenko was happy. He thought he had met the very one he had been looking for, and all Lykera’s petty defects would disappear with marriage. Here is what Hanna Barvinok (Oleksandra Kulish) wrote: “How coldly she has accepted his proposal even though everybody knew about it within an hour! And how self-centered she is! How much she wishes to erase in herself that which attracts Taras Hryhorovych to her. She wants to be a lady, while he is looking for artlessness and a friendly word...”
Let us return to the reminiscences of Natalka Poltavka (Nadia Zabila’s daughter).
“In the autumn we came back to St. Petersburg. Lykera was given a separate room, and Shevchenko used to visit her there every evening. He paid us only brief visits for a few minutes in the daytime. Sometimes he used to return very late at night, at 11:00 or 12:00, when we were already asleep, send for some beer, and stay that way with his beloved the whole night...
“One day Taras came to our place and told mother that Countess Tolstoy, an old friend of his, wanted Lykera to live at her house...On the scheduled day Taras brought a carriage to pick Lykera up. She said goodbye to mother, they got in and departed. Markovych went with them too. The countess received Shevchenko’s “betrothed” in a very friendly manner, made her comfortable on a sofa, offered her some chocolate, and spoke with her about literature. Lykera waffled so cleverly that it was difficult to guess she was ignorant of the subject.”
But it was Markovych who thought Countess Tolstoy had not figured her out. She advised Taras to hire a private tutor for his bride to teach her the three R’s and good manners. Shevchenko was unlucky enough to agree. He rented a cozy apartment near the Academy and Lykera moved in. He gave her smart clothes and shoes, spent evenings with her, and worked at the Academy during the day. Then a private tutor would come, a handsome university student. When Shevchenko returned, the tutor would finish the lesson and leave.
On Sept. 2 the Academy’s Council decided to award Shevchenko the position of Academician of Engraving. That evening he did not come to Lykera. Instead the tutor stayed with her. Later, things returned to normal. Shevchenko would arrive; the tutor would finish his lesson and depart. If Shevchenko warned Lykera that he was coming to a party and she should not wait for him, the tutor would stay with her.
On Sept. 9 Shevchenko went to celebrate the publication of his poem “Kateryna,” which had been published in Russian translation in the magazine Russkoe Slovo. Although he had not told Lykera that he would not be back, she figured the party would last until morning and let her lover stay with her. That was the day when Taras Hryhorovych learned the truth.
