De Graafschapbode, 16 September 1924
Many a beautiful spot can still be found along the banks of the Slingerbeek, alive with birds, butterflies and flowers, though it would be impossible to describe them all in detail. In Miste its banks are comparatively little wooded. There the stream winds mostly through open country, past arable fields and lush meadows.
In several places its bends have been cut off and its bed widened and deepened. Attempts have also been made to restrain it with small dykes, for in wet weather it quickly swells into a turbulent stream and often floods everything around it.
Near Bredevoort the landscape is completely dominated by poplars. Everywhere there are old, stately trees and newly planted saplings, all tall and slender, standing in long rows along the banks of the stream, beside ditches, embankments and roads. The scene is one continuous flicker of restless green, accompanied by a soft, unceasing rustle.
In autumn, when many yellow leaves already lie on the ground and the crowns have grown thin, all those poplars create a melancholy impression. Then one hears the mournful sighing of the wind and the plaintive whisper of withering leaves among the increasingly bare branches. The old town lies there lonely and almost forgotten, amid marshy lowlands and flooded meadows. Part of this low-lying area has already been drained, and further work in that direction is now under way.
In earlier centuries Bredevoort owed much of its importance as a fortress precisely to its position among the marshes. Dutch States and Spanish armies once fought here for possession of the fortified town and its strong castle. Bredevoort has witnessed much worldly splendour and display, endured much misery and suffered disasters. Now it lies quietly on the banks of the Slinge, partly hidden behind the last remnant of the old rampart, half encircled by the old moat full of reeds and rough growth, amid rows of poplars – dreaming of its great past and of the vanity of human plans.
About a quarter of an hour farther downstream lies Walfort, or Walvoord, an old castle whose past too is more glorious than its present. It was once the seat of the vrijgraaf, the presiding judge and leader of the mysterious Vehmic court, which survived well into the Middle Ages. The Sleehegge was the place where justice was administered in the open air, at sunrise and without regard to rank. One of the vrijgraven, Bernd de Dücker, was notorious for his severity, and his name survived in local speech right up to the present day.
At Walfort the Slingerbeek receives a tributary, a narrow and unassuming stream called the Schaarsbeek. There are plans to widen and deepen it in order to improve drainage in the Groote Goor. The Schaarsbeek has much natural beauty along its banks. It comes all the way from the Korenburgerveen and for a while forms the boundary between the Klooster and the Groote Goor.
The Slingerbeek approaches Aalten and reaches the village at ‘De Pol’, formerly one of the most powerful manor houses in the area, now a faded remnant of former grandeur. Aalten is a very attractive village, built against the slope of a hill. Urns have been found in the surrounding area, evidence that it is an ancient settlement, like Varsseveld farther to the west. Some even associate the name Varsseveld with the Roman commander Varus.
Between Aalten and Varsseveld the banks of the Slingerbeek are again quite wooded in places. Picturesque spots are plentiful, including near the Bleekerij and farther on in the Elshoek. Not far from Varsseveld there once stood the extensive woods of the De Breukelaar estate, although most of the trees have now been felled. Beyond that one enters the well-wooded Noorderbroek and eventually the forests of Slangenburg. Here one can still wander for hours beneath tall trees and through dense undergrowth, among the scent of flowers and the song of birds.
Meanwhile the Slingerbeek has divided into two branches. The main branch, the southern one, winds onward under the name Bielheimerbeek, close past Slangenburg Castle with its towers and outbuildings, its deer park and farms, and its shady woods crossed by broad avenues.
Most of the Slingerbeek’s water is carried away by the Bielheimerbeek; the remainder flows towards Doetinchem. The Bielheimerbeek probably owes its name to the former Bethlehem monastery at Gaanderen. It was founded here towards the end of the twelfth century by a certain Franco together with a hermit named Gijselbrecht. The little wooden church was consecrated by the Bishop of Utrecht in person. The foundation prospered greatly. The monastery expanded and acquired wealth, power and prestige, and its influence was felt far across the surrounding countryside. Then came a period of decline. During the Reformation the monastery was robbed and plundered. The magnificent estate gradually disappeared, although a rich archive has survived.
In 1659 a Rotterdam merchant received permission from the States to build a watermill on the Bielheimerbeek. For year after year, century after century, the clattering mill wheel turned there until quite recently. Today the wheel has disappeared, and there too one now hears the puffing sound of a labouring machine. Gaanderen lies beside and among sandy hills – river dunes – from which fine views can often be enjoyed.
And so we have followed the Slingerbeek once again. It is, after all, only a modest little stream. Yet it is beautiful: in spring, when cowslips and white anemones bloom; in summer, when ferns and umbellifers are reflected in its water; in autumn, when the oaks are adorned in bronze and the beeches in yellow and red-copper leaves; and in winter, when snow has covered the fields and everything has grown very still…
G.J.M.