Without exaggeration, the melody “Carol of the Bells” can be considered one of the symbols of Christmas, sung worldwide during the holiday season.

You may already know that this song has Ukrainian roots, but did you know that its author may have worked on it in the very same Pokrovsk, which the Russians are so desperately trying to capture today?

Additionally, this song became a global hit at a time when Ukraine, under similar circumstances 100 years ago, was forced to defend its statehood.

The story begins

In 1936, on the airwaves of American NBC radio, Americans heard the melody “Carol of the Bells,” arranged by Peter Wilhousky, an American of Ukrainian descent, for the first time. The song created a sensation, and by the next morning, the radio station was flooded with letters asking for the sheet music. Wilhousky eventually published it through the Carl Fischer music publishing company.

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Carl Fischer’s sheet music of the Ukrainian Shchedryk, 1936.

In the score, he noted that this was a Ukrainian folk song, “Shchedryk,” composed by Mykola Leontovych.

In an interview, Wilhousky also mentioned that he had heard the melody performed by a Ukrainian choir touring America.

Video Shows Russian Troops Blowing Up Kurakhove Dam in Donetsk Region
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Video Shows Russian Troops Blowing Up Kurakhove Dam in Donetsk Region

Russian forces targeted the Kurakhove dam after months of attempts, raising water levels by 1.2 meters in the Vovcha River. However, officials report no risk of a complete reservoir leak.

So, which Ukrainian choir was it that toured America, and how did the Ukrainian melody make its way to the United States?

Pokrovsk: The birthplace of “Shchedryk”

Traditionally, the birthplace of “Shchedryk” is considered to be the Ukrainian town of Tulchyn, where in 1916 the final, fourth version of the song – the one we know today – was written.

However, Olha Prokopenko, a researcher of Leontovych’s life and work, offers a deeper insight into the song’s creation.

According to Prokopenko, there are five versions of “Shchedryk,” with the first two likely connected to the composer’s time in the Donetsk region.

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In late 1903, in search of work, Leontovych, met a railway worker on a train who told him that the Pokrovsk railway school was looking for a music teacher. In 1904, Leontovych moved with his family to Pokrovsk, where he worked as a village teacher, organized a railway workers’ choir, and probably created one of the first versions of “Shchedryk” in 1906.

Mykola Leontovych with his family. Photo: “On the Tablets of Memory”

The voice of a nation and Petliura’s plan

Amid the biting cold of a Kyiv winter in 1919, Ukrainian People’s Republic (UPR) leader, Symon Petliura, attended a concert in Kyiv honoring Mykola Voronyi’s jubilee. Petliura nurtured hopes of preserving Ukraine’s fledgling state, born from the ruins of the Russian Empire – a hope not without reason

In a few weeks, the Paris Peace Conference, the largest diplomatic congress of the time, would begin in France, where leaders of the victorious powers in World War I were gathering to redraw the map of the post-war world.

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The basic criterion for the new world order was the principle of national self-determination, declared by US President Woodrow Wilson.

Petliura realized this also was an opportunity for Ukraine. Yet, complicating the situation was the fact that, at that moment, Europeans often viewed Ukrainians either as allies of the German coalition or as separatists and enemies of a united, indivisible “Russian state.”

“Ukraine, or more correctly, southern Russia, never had its own history or national or ethnographic uniqueness,” said French consul Emile Henno at the negotiations in Jassy in November 1918.

A White Army Propaganda Poster. The inscription on the poster: “For a United Russia.”

Petliura faced an almost impossible task: four months to convince the world of the existence of a separate nation and to find persuasive arguments that would lead European politicians to support the idea of an independent Ukraine.

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On Jan. 1, 1919, he found a solution at that same concert in Kyiv when he heard “Shchedryk,” performed by the first national Kyiv choir, under the direction of conductor Oleksandr Koshyts.

Petliura’s vision was to demonstrate the stark contrast between Russian and Ukrainian cultures through soft power.

In the shortest time possible, he issued a decree establishing the “Ukrainian Republican Chapel” and allocated unprecedented funds at that time – a million francs and a million karbovanets (equivalent to about $20 million today).

The decree establishing the Ukrainian Republican Chapel, dated Jan. 24, 1919.

Not everyone supported Petliura’s idea. Here’s what then-Minister of Lands Mykyta Shapoval wrote about it:

“Only a Ukrainian mind could come up with the idea of engaging in ethnographic studies and singing during wartime when blood is being shed for Ukraine’s freedom. The Ukrainian Republican Chapel is a beautiful thing, but why is it going abroad? What kind of policy is it pursuing through singing, and for whom? So that the bourgeoisie of Vienna, Prague, Paris, and London could lounge in their chairs, idly listening to the song of a Ukraine drenched in blood?”

The Road to Europe

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In February, less than a month after the chapel’s creation, Petliura’s plan was under threat. The Bolshevik army was once again approaching Kyiv, forcing the government to abandon the capital for the second time and quickly evacuate the choir to Kamianets-Podilskyi.

Here’s how one choir member, Kyrylo Mykolaychuk, recalled these events:

Feb. 8:“Cursed day. Our carriage was left far off—at the freight station. The snow was piled so high that you couldn’t get out of the carriage. They say that all carriages in the field were snowed in last night. The cold was like nothing I’d ever experienced.”

Feb. 11:“At ten in the evening, a train hooked onto us and took us away... But it didn’t last long. A terrible blizzard rose, and the train came to a halt in the field, buried in snow. I’m writing this at three in the morning because I can’t sleep; the wind is howling through the broken window.”

Feb. 12:“Cursed journey. My head aches terribly, and the cold is unbearable. In the morning, they pulled us out of the snowdrifts and returned us to the Hrechany station. Here an incident occurred: Peda, Kozlovsky, and Miss Katrya went into the village for bread and stayed there.”

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Despite these obstacles, the chapel reached Kamianets-Podilskyi and later Uzhhorod, where they gave their first concerts, which caused a sensation. However, the most challenging times were yet to come.

The Ukrainian Chapel’s tour began in Czechoslovakia. To understand the European public’s view of Ukrainians, it’s enough to read the memoirs of the choir’s manager, Oleksandr Pelensky, in his book “Ukrainian Song in the World,” where he describes the chapel’s mission in Europe.

“It was known that, prior to the arrival of the Ukrainian Republican Chapel, the Czechs were supporters of a ‘united and indivisible Russia.’ The Russians managed to convince the Czechs that we didn’t exist, that we were just ‘Russians.’”

Singer and Chapel Manager Oleksandr Pelensky and his memoir Ukrainian Song in the World

It’s also important to mention that the entire choir was arrested on the way to Prague and held for several days in prison, accused of Bolshevism, and, according to Koshyts, were called “Russian separatists” behind their backs.

But everything changed after their first concert in Prague. In his book “With a Song Across the World,” Koshyts describes the shift in the Czech audience’s attitudes:

“All things Ukrainian became fashionable in Prague. My boys flirted on all sides, and the Czech girls were smitten. Overall, it was wonderful and sincere,” writes Koshyts.

Jaroslav Křička, a renowned Czech conductor who had previously opposed Ukrainian independence, described his impressions in the magazine, Hudební revue:

“It’s hard for the hand to write criticism when the heart sings praise. The Ukrainians came and conquered. I think we knew little about them and gravely wronged them when we unconsciously merged them with the Russian people. Our desire for a ‘great and indivisible Russia’ is a weak argument against the nature of the entire Ukrainian nation, for whom independence is everything, as it once was for us.”

Excerpt from an article by Prague conductor Jaroslav Křička in Hudební revue, June 1919

Another comment in the same journal:

“Listening, holding our breath, to this choir’s performance, we shamefully acknowledge that we stand before something entirely unfamiliar to us, something that could have delighted us long ago and shown our composers new directions and ideas.”

However, success in Prague was not enough; the main goal of the choir was France and the Paris Summit. The problem was that Russian diplomacy in Europe did everything possible to prevent Ukrainian choir members from obtaining visas to European countries, emphasizing that the choir’s members represented an unrecognized state.

Yet, the Ukrainian Chapel had no intention of giving up and confirmed its success with performances in Vienna, Baden, Zurich, and Geneva.

Fragment of an Austrian Review from the Chapel’s Archive in the Central State Archive of Higher Authorities of Ukraine (TsDAVO)

Foreign impresarios appealed to the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, demanding visas for the choir members.

Finally, with the support of French Foreign Minister Stéphen Pichon, visas were granted.

However, it was too late. Although the Paris Peace Conference was still ongoing, the main historical decisions had already been made, including the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, which established the borders of new states. Ukraine had been divided among several states.

The Ukrainian Republican Chapel could no longer influence the decisions of the Paris Peace Conference, but it could demonstrate the grave mistake made by European politicians. For this reason, the choir decided to continue performing.

On Nov. 6, 1919, during its first concert in Paris, the choir did what it did best: it captivated the French audience with Ukrainian culture.

As always, the concert caused a sensation. The front pages of France’s leading newspapers were filled with news about the choir from Ukraine.

Article by Raymond Charpentier on the Ukrainian Premiere in Paris, in the newspaper Comoedia, Nov. 8, 1919

“No choir, whether French or foreign, has ever presented anything like this here... These 85 singers perform with such richness that listeners often feel as if they are hearing an orchestra... The large audience at the premiere expressed its enthusiasm with frequent and prolonged applause.”– Le Nouvelliste, Nov. 9, 1919

“No matter how much they deny the existence of the Ukrainian nation, your choir members prove that this nation possesses a musical soul of unparalleled strength.”– From an article by Charles Seignobos, French historian and professor at the Sorbonne

The Tragedy of the Ukrainian Nation

In 1921, Ukraine was fully occupied by the Bolsheviks. Over two years, the Ukrainian Republican Chapel performed in 45 cities across 10 countries in Western Europe, yet the choir, whose mission was to spread Ukrainian culture to the world, no longer had a country.

In September 1922, Koshyts’ choir permanently left Europe and moved to the United States. On Oct. 5, 1922, the melody of “Shchedryk” was first performed in Carnegie Hall and later in dozens of other venues.

Further on, at one of the Ukrainian diaspora’s performances, Peter Wilhousky was present. Hearing “Shchedryk,” he requested the sheet music from the singers to perform the song with his choir on NBC radio.

Singers of the Ukrainian Republican Chapel, photo from 1919

Starting in 1936, Carol of the Bells has become inseparably associated with Christmas.

However, if you listen closely to this melody, you can hear the sounds of a young country, bleeding and fighting for its life.

Today, the events of a century ago are once again playing out on Ukrainian soil. The Russian army, consumed by the idea of restoring the borders of a “united Russia,” is approaching Pokrovsk—a town that may share the fate of Vovchansk or dozens of other settlements wiped off the map.

But by destroying Ukrainian cities, Russia does not merely break bricks and concrete; it erases history, culture, and world heritage.

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