The Onset of the Ruin

Khmelnytsky’s death came at an inopportune time for Ukrainians. Their half-formed society, surrounded by predatory neighbors and rent by internal problems, had willingly accepted his leadership.

Vyhovsky was one of the most sophisticated and best educated of the Cossack leaders. An Orthodox nobleman from the Kiev region, he had studied at the renowned Mohyla Academy. In 1648, while serving with the Poles, he was captured at Zhovti Vody. Because he valued his education and experience, Khmelnytsky freed him and Vyhovsky joined the Cossacks, quickly rising to the post of secretary-general. The new hetman soon made it clear that he favored the rising starshyna. In international relations, his preference was for the establishment of an independent Ukrainian principality. However, Ukraine was too weak for such a step, so Vyhovsky concentrated on finding a counterbalance to Muscovite influence in Ukraine. For this reason, he established closer ties with Poland.

While the Cossack and ecclesiastical elite supported the rapprochement with Poland, the masses, suspicious of any understanding between the Cossack officers and the Polish nobles, vehemently opposed it. Vociferous in their opposition were the Zaporozhians, led by Iakiv Barabash, and the Cossacks of the Poltava regiment whose colonel, Martyn Pushkar, had ambitions to become hetman.

Realizing that a break with Moscow was imminent, Vyhovsky intensified his efforts to come to an understanding with the Poles. He was greatly aided by Iurii Nemyrych, a Ukrainian aristocrat who had studied extensively in Europe and who espoused the idea of a sovereign Ukrainian principality whose independence would be internationally guaranteed like that of Holland or Switzerland. But Vyhovsky, who was preparing for war with Moscow, was in no position to insist that the Poles recognize Ukrainian independence. In 1658, after lengthy debate, the Ukrainian and Polish envoys reached a compromise solution known as the Treaty of Hadiach.

According to the treaty, the provinces of Kiev, Bratslav, and Chernihiv were to form a Ukrainian principality that, together with Poland and Lithuania, would become the third and equal partner in the Commonwealth. The Ukrainian principality was to have far-ranging autonomy. Its hetman was to be responsible only to the king and it was to have its own army, courts, treasury, and mint. Unless invited by the hetman, Polish troops were to be banned from the territory of the principality. Traditional Cossack rights were to be guaranteed and every year, upon the recommendation of the hetman, 100 Cossacks were to be accepted into the nobility. The Poles made important concessions on the religious issue: the Union of Brest was to be abolished in the principality and the Orthodox were to enjoy equality with the Catholics of the Commonwealth.

Although the Treaty of Hadiach has fascinated historians because of its potential impact on Ukrainian, Polish, and Russian history, its actual influence was minimal because it was never implemented. Even before it was signed, a huge Muscovite army of about 150,000, led by the able Prince Aleksei Trubetskoi, invaded Ukraine. Hastily gathering his forces and uniting with his Polish and Tatar allies, Vyhovsky moved to the northeast to confront the invaders. On 29 June 1658, near Konotop, the tsar’s troops suffered one of their worst defeats ever. The Russian historian Sergei Soloviev described its effect: “The flower of Muscovite cavalry perished in one day and never again would a Muscovite tsar be able to field such a splendid army. Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich came out to the people dressed in mourning and panic seized Moscow… There were rumors that the Tsar intended to leave for Iaroslav beyond the Volga and that Vyhovsky was expected to advance directly on Moscow.”¹ The hetman, however, could not take advantage of his brilliant victory. The Muscovite garrisons in Ukraine continued to hold out; a Zaporozhian attack on the Crimea forced Vyhovsky’s Tatar allies to return home; and unrest broke out again in the Poltava region. The final blow came when several pro-Moscow colonels accused the hetman of “selling Ukraine out to the Poles” and rebelled. Unable to continue the war against Moscow, Vyhovsky resigned in October 1659 and retired to Poland.

Moscow now had the advantage. Hoping that the appeal of his father’s name might help to heal internal rifts, the starshyna elected the 18-year-old Iurii Khmelnytsky as hetman. Trubetskoi, who returned to Ukraine with another army, insisted that the young hetman come to his camp to renegotiate his father’s treaty with the tsar. By acquiescing, Iurii committed the first in a long series of political blunders.

In 1660, war broke out again between Moscow and Poland for control of Ukraine. When the tsar’s troops found themselves surrounded by the Poles near Chudniv in Volhynia, Iurii and the starshyna did not hurry to their aid. Instead, the young hetman began negotiations with the Poles and when the Russians suffered yet another disastrous defeat at Chudniv, Iurii agreed to return Ukraine to the Commonwealth. At this point, the already chaotic political situation became even more confused. On the Right Bank, where Khmelnytsky’s army and the Poles were ensconced, the hetman’s authority remained intact; on the Left Bank, however, where the tsar was still in control, the Cossacks deposed Khmelnytsky and elected Iakiv Somko as acting hetman. Rent by social strife and political factionalism, occupied by Polish and Russian armies, Cossack Ukraine was divided into two parts, each with its own hetman. The period of Ruin was now in full swing.

Depressed by what was in effect a partition of Ukraine and frustrated by his inability to deal with a rapidly deteriorating situation, in January 1663 a morose Iurii Khmelnytsky surrendered his hetman’s mace and entered a monastery. The authority of his successor, Pavlo Teteria, was limited to Right-Bank Ukraine.

Eager to take vengeance on the region that had fostered the 1648 uprising, the Poles burned, pillaged, and murdered at every turn. Stefan Czarnecki, the Polish commander, even had Bohdan Khmelnytsky’s grave opened and its contents scattered to the winds. Because he was perceived as a possible rival, Vyhovsky was arrested at Teteria’s behest and executed by the Poles. As for Iurii Khmelnytsky, he was dragged from his monk’s cell and interned in a Polish prison. As a result of his generally detested behavior and his Polish allies, the Right-Bank hetman lost the little support that he had had among the Cossacks, resigned his office, and fled to Poland. It had now become abundantly clear that no matter what rationale was used to justify it, cooperation between Ukrainians (especially of the lower classes) and Poles had, practically speaking, become impossible. The Ottoman alternative: Doroshenko and Iurii Khmelnytsky

With Ukraine divided into Polish and Russian spheres of influence and with rival hetmans who were little more than puppets of their foreign overlords, responsible Cossack leaders lamented the condition of “our poor mother, Ukraine,” and called for a return to past glories. Among the most forceful proponents of Cossack regeneration was Petro Doroshenko, the 38-year-old colonel of Cherkasy and the next hetman of Right-Bank Ukraine.

Doroshenko’s qualifications for leadership were impressive. The son of a Cossack colonel and grandson of a hetman, he had worked closely with Khmelnytsky and had held high office under Vyhovsky and Teteria.

At the outset of his hetmancy, Doroshenko, like all Right-Bank hetmans, followed a pro-Polish line. But this policy changed radically when, in January 1667, the Poles and Russians signed the Treaty of Andrusovo. Although most of the treaty dealt with Ukraine, neither power bothered to consult the Ukrainians. In essence, the treaty partitioned Cossack Ukraine: the Poles recognized the tsar’s sovereignty over the Left Bank, and the Muscovites agreed to a Polish return to the Right Bank. On the sensitive issue of Kiev, it was decided that the city would remain under Muscovite rule for two more years, after which it would revert to the Poles. Moscow never honored this point, however, retaining Kiev permanently. The vast, virtually empty lands of the Zaporozhians were placed under dual Polish/Muscovite overlordship and were to act as a buffer against Tatar attacks.

While both parties were pleased with the arrangement, for the Ukrainians it was an unmitigated political disaster. If it had been difficult enough for Khmelnytsky and Vyhovsky, who ruled all of Dnieper Ukraine, to exercise freedom of action; for their successors, who controlled only half the land and were much more constrained by their foreign overlords, an independent policy was impossible. As the szlachta returned to the Right Bank and the realization spread that Moscow had grossly violated its 1654 commitment to keep the Poles out, disillusionment and anger enveloped both sides of the Dnieper.

Doroshenko, who reportedly suffered a seizure upon receiving news of the treaty, abandoned his pro-Polish stance and decided to revive one of Bohdan Khmelnytsky’s old projects by approaching the Ottoman Porte for aid. His timing was fortunate, for the Porte had been planning a number of ambitious, expansionary wars and it willingly provided the hetman with support. In fall 1667, a combined Ottoman/Cossack army attacked the Polish forces in Galicia and compelled King Jan Casimir to grant Doroshenko wide-ranging autonomy on the Right Bank. But this success was not enough for the hetman. To rid himself completely of the Poles, he placed Ukraine under relatively loose Ottoman overlordship. With the Right Bank seemingly secured, Doroshenko led his army over to the Left Bank and deposed his rival hetman, Ivan Briukhovetsky. In 1668, Doroshenko reached the height of his power when, backed by the Ottomans and with both Right- and Left-Bank Ukraine under his control, he proclaimed himself hetman of all Ukraine.

His success was fleeting, however. Alarmed by his growing power, the hetman’s numerous enemies set about to undermine it. To this end, they utilized the old tactic of supporting rivals for the hetmancy. The Tatars attempted to replace Doroshenko with a certain Sukhovienko. No sooner had Doroshenko disposed of this rival than the Poles produced a more dangerous one in the person of Mykhailo Khanenko with whom they invaded the Right Bank. Turning to meet the invaders, Doroshenko appointed Damian Mnohohrishny acting hetman of the Left Bank. Now Moscow, seeing its chance, moved into the Left Bank and forced Mnohohrishny to renounce his ties with Doroshenko and recognize the overlordship of the tsar.

As his base of power crumbled, Doroshenko even found it difficult to maintain his hold on the Right Bank. In 1672, with a force of 12,000, he was forced to aid an Ottoman army of 100,000, which pushed the Poles out of Podilia and turned it into an Ottoman province. With his unpopularity growing because of his contacts with the hated infidels, the hetman’s support was dwindling fast. The final blow came in 1675–76 when the Muscovites, aided by Left-Bank Cossacks, engaged the Ottomans in a bloody contest for Chyhyryn fortress and Doroshenko found himself supporting the “infidel” Ottomans against his Orthodox countrymen. Realizing that his position was untenable, he surrendered the regalia of his office to Ivan Samoilovych, the new hetman of the Left Bank. Treating him with relative leniency, the tsar ordered this “last of the true Cossacks” into exile near Moscow.

The Ottomans’ replacement for Doroshenko was a surprise. In 1677, hoping to take advantage of his famous name, they appointed Iurii Khmelnytsky hetman of the Right Bank. This enigmatic and probably unbalanced individual already had a chequered career behind him. After entering the monastery, he served as an abbot and was subsequently imprisoned for three years by the Poles. Upon his release, he participated in a campaign against the Tatars, was captured by them, and sent to Constantinople where he spent six more years in prison. Unexpectedly, the Ottomans dragged this tragic figure from his cell, thrust the hetman’s mace in his hands, and, to add a measure of dignity to their uninspiring puppet, grandiloquently styled him “Prince of Sarmatia and Ukraine, Lord of the Zaporozhian Host.” But this title did him little good, for Iurii proved to be as inept in his second tenure as hetman as he had been in his first.

In 1677–78, he joined the Ottomans in several unsuccessful campaigns against his father’s old capital of Chyhyryn. Both Russians and Ottomans deployed huge armies in these battles: the sultan’s forces numbered about 200,000, while Moscow committed 70,000 Russians and about 50,000 Left-Bank Cossacks. After the inconclusive completion of the Chyhyryn campaigns, Iurii Khmelnytsky launched an incursion into the Left Bank, failing miserably. Unable to mobilize significant support, he controlled only a small stretch of territory in Podilia that the Ottomans had set aside for him. Even here his rule was so unstable and despotic that his Muslim patrons finally lost patience with him and, in 1681, executed him. That same year, Moscow concluded the Peace of Bakhchesarai with the Ottomans and Crimean Tatars, whereby they recognized each other’s possessions in Ukraine. Five years later, Russia signed a similar agreement with Poland. By 1686, all of Ukraine was divided up among the powers that surrounded it.