In former times, November was the season for slaughtering. At that time, slaughtering did not yet take place at slaughterhouses, but simply on the farmer’s yard. It was usually outsourced to a ‘home slaughterer’, a butcher who performed the slaughter at the client’s home. Regarding home slaughtering in Aalten and the customs surrounding it, G.H. Rots wrote the following in 1937:
“The busiest and most significant days of the year were when slaughtering had to take place. When November arrived in the land, the slaughtering period began. The ‘wieme’ (drying rack) was empty, and in every household, people thought about slaughtering one or more pigs or a ‘small beast’. The home slaughterers had their hands full.
If the slaughtering had taken place in the morning, the ‘fat-praisers’ would arrive around half past eleven. The neighbors would then judge whether the ‘kidneys were well-covered in fat’. The thickness of the bacon was estimated, and finally the lady of the house appeared with the ‘bottle’, for teetotalers were unknown in those days. On slaughter days, people made sure they had something ‘in the bottle’. The slaughterers received their first ‘drink’ in the morning, the fat-praisers in the afternoon, and in the evening came the great celebration: the slaughter visit.”
Drika Wijnveen-Stapelkamp and home slaughterer Bertus ter Maat
How the slaughtering process worked
In the 1950s and 1960s, it was still permitted to perform home slaughtering yourself. A large boiler pot with plenty of water was brought to a boil. The pig was killed using a captive bolt pistol, which fired a pin into its head. The pig became unconscious. The animal’s throat was then slit, and the blood was collected in a special flat pan.
The pig was cleaned and doused with boiling water so that the hair could be removed more easily, a process known as ‘scraping’ the pig. The animal was then hung from a ‘ladder’ and cut open.
The entrails were collected in a large tub. The intestines were cleaned. First, they were rinsed with water and then scraped clean so they could be used to make sausage. The intestines were tied shut with sausage pins and hung from the ceiling.
Every part of the pig was used. The head meat was used to make ‘head cheese’ or brawn. The sausages and hams were hung from the ceiling to dry. Slaughtering and processing a pig took a week of work but provided meat for personal use for an entire year. One way to prevent meat from spoiling was salting. The meat was placed in a tub of salt, and the salt was rubbed thoroughly into the meat. Meat could also be preserved in canning jars. This allowed the meat to be kept for many months.
A well-known home slaughterer in Aalten and the surrounding area was Bertus ter Maat. The above interview with the then 77-year-old Aalten resident was filmed in 1991 by FilmAalten.
Slaughter visit
Regarding the slaughter visit, Rots wrote: “Those slaughter visits were the social evenings for the population. Neighbors would gather and enjoy each other’s company. It began with a cup of coffee and a rusk. Then the bottle appeared on the table. On those evenings, the events of the time were discussed. One person knew this, another had heard that, and a third had ‘recently read the newspaper’, and thus knew for certain. And the women told each other the secrets of the civil registry and related matters. Meanwhile, the hostess would invite them again: ‘Have another drink’. ‘The pigs turned out well’. And finally, when it was time to go home, everyone was in the merriest of moods.
One should not imagine that all the pigs that had been fattened were intended for personal use, as you can understand. At least one pig had to be sold, and from the other that was kept, the hams or gammons were also sold, because keeping the hams yourself ‘was just for the sake of using them up’; no, they had to be turned into cash. And if a heifer or ‘bull’ was slaughtered, the nagelhout (smoked beef) was certainly sold. There were several buyers who salted and smoked these finer meats and sent them to the larger towns. The money the pigs brought in was often intended for the payment of hay, mortgage interest, etc., or at least for extraordinary expenses.”
Sources
‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 5 November 1937 (via Delpher)
Photo: collection Leo van der Linde, with thanks to Anton Stapelkamp
In the early 19th century, during the French occupation, a large-scale administrative reform was implemented in the Netherlands. One of the most significant changes was the introduction of the Régistre Civique, a civil register in which eligible male voters were recorded.
The Régistre Civique was introduced under the reign of Napoleon Bonaparte, who annexed the Netherlands into the French Empire in 1810. The purpose of this registration was to obtain an overview of citizens who had the right to vote and were eligible for public office.
Who was registered?
The register contained the names of men who:
Were at least 21 years old;
Were not dependent on public charity;
Possessed sufficient property or income.
For many residents of Aalten and Bredevoort, this meant that only the more affluent farmers, traders, and craftsmen were registered. Day laborers and small-scale farmers were excluded from the registration.
From Régistre Civique to population register
The introduction of the Régistre Civique was one of the first steps toward a more bureaucratic government structure in the Netherlands. After the departure of the French in 1813, the need for administrative registration remained. The Régistre Civique was eventually replaced by the population register, which provided a more complete overview of all residents, regardless of their social status.
Historical value and genealogical research
Today, the data from the Régistre Civique is a valuable source for genealogical research. Images (scans) and an index (transcription) of the Aalten register are available at Genealogiedomein.nl. For many individuals included in the register, the address (house number) is also mentioned, allowing us to know where they lived at the time.
Please note: the Régistre Civique of Aalten (and likely those of other places as well) contains various inaccuracies. In particular, birth and baptismal dates for individuals not born or baptized in Aalten are often imprecise or even incorrect.
In 1811, the Civil Registry was introduced in the Netherlands. Before that, important life events were recorded by church authorities in baptism, marriage and burial books (DTB books). In Aalten and Bredevoort, these registers were mainly kept by the Dutch Reformed Church (later the Dutch Reformed Church). In addition, Catholic baptismal records are available of the Cross Chapel in Hemden from 1706 onwards. These DTB registers are an indispensable source for genealogical research in the period before 1811.
Unfortunately, DTB books are not always complete; Some books have been lost and the registration was not equally systematic everywhere. Moreover, in different places, these registers were started at different times.
Available DTB books
Aalten (NDG): Baptism and marriage from 1665, death/burial from 1762.
Bredevoort (NDG): Baptisms and marriages from 1638/1639.
Shirts (RK): Baptisms from 1706 onwards.
Baptismal books
Contain the name of the person baptized, date of baptism and often the names of the parents and sometimes the witnesses. In older books, the name of the mother is often not mentioned. The date of baptism is not the same as the date of birth. Children were baptized as soon as possible after birth, often on the following Sunday. From 1772 onwards, the date of birth is also mentioned in Aalten.
Wedding books
Contain the names of the bride and groom, wedding date and sometimes additional details such as names of parents, witnesses and in case of remarriage the previous husband(s). Sometimes the date of the marriage announcement was noted instead of the actual wedding date.
Burial books
Contain, in addition to the burial date, the name of the deceased or only the relationship to the head of the family or farm, for example ‘Hendrik te Slaa zijn vrou’, ‘de vrou aan de Smoege’ or ‘een kint van Derk Neerhof’. In the burial book of Aalten for the period 1762-1811 the date of death is also noted, but this is not the case in all burial books.
Symbols
On Old Aalten, symbols are sometimes used to indicate important facts of life. Here is an overview of these symbols and their meanings:
* ~ ⚭ ✝︎ ± < >
Birth Baptism Marriage Death About (approximately) Before (date) After (date)
DTB Book Transcriptions
Fragment from the Baptism Book of Aalten, 1668
Various transcriptions of DTB registries are available for researchers, which facilitate the research. Transcriptions of DTB books in the Achterhoek are available on Genealogiedomein.nl.
WhoWasWho: DTB data can also be found on WieWasWie.nl (events, names and dates). This can greatly facilitate the search, but also refer to the accompanying transcript for more information and context. WhoWasWho also offers links to the scan of the original register, on the website of the Gelderland Archives. Although this is very interesting to watch, the original handwritten texts are often difficult to read.
Variable spelling: Names were not always written consistently. Try variations in your search.
Surname changes: Before 1811, surnames of people were not always fixed. Especially in the countryside, it was not unusual for someone’s surname to change when moving to another farm.
Check dates carefully: The date of baptism is usually not the date of birth and the burial date is not the date of death.
The Liberal Gift was a one-time tax introduced in the Republic of the Seven United Netherlands in September 1747 to cover the escalating defense costs caused by the war with France.
Background
During the War of the Austrian Succession (1740–1748), the Republic was involved in a conflict against France and Spain as an ally of Great Britain and Austria. The military threat increased significantly in 1747 when French troops occupied large parts of the Southern Netherlands and even parts of the Republic, including Zeeland and Maastricht.
The Republic was poorly prepared for a large-scale war and was in a deep financial crisis. To finance the military expenditures, a one-time tax was established: the Liberal Gift, also known as the fiftieth penny.
What was the Liberal Gift?
The tax was called a ‘liberal’ or ‘voluntary’ gift, but in practice, it was not entirely optional. Every household—both poor and wealthy—was expected to contribute. The wealthy had to pay two percent of their assets (hence the name fiftieth penny). Those who possessed less than 500 guilders could determine for themselves how much they ‘furnished’ (gave). Residents had to declare under oath how much they owned. The contribution to the Liberal Gift could then be paid in four installments.
Registration of the Liberal Gift in Aalten and Bredevoort
The collection of the Liberal Gift took place in 1748 and was meticulously recorded in special registers (tax rolls). In the parish of Aalten, the registration was organized by village and rural districts, and further subdivided by ‘rot’ (district). The tax roll for the town of Bredevoort is likewise subdivided by district.
In the tax rolls, information was recorded per house, such as:
Names of the residents
(Sometimes) the farm name
Number of resident children (above and below 16 years of age)
Assets (more or less than 500 guilders)
Whether they paid anything and in which installments this was fulfilled
Scans of the tax rolls for the collection of the Liberal Gift in the lordship of Bredevoort can be consulted here.
Historical value
Thanks to this detailed registration, the Liberal Gift offers a unique insight into the composition of households and the prosperity of former Aalten residents in 1748. It not only shows where people lived—down to the district or farm level—but also provides an impression of the economic conditions within the community.
Jan Willem (Willy) Walvoort was born on July 17, 1935, in Aalten, as the son of factory worker Johannes Walvoort and Berendina Geertruida Prinsen. He worked professionally as a maintenance man for the Vereniging Volkshuisvesting (later De Woonplaats), but gained local fame as a draftsman and painter. Walvoort captured numerous locations in Aalten, Bredevoort, and the surrounding area. He passed away on January 16, 2018, at the age of 82.
Willy Walvoort (1935–2018)
Youth, education, and profession
Walvoort showed an interest in drawing and painting from an early age. Mr. Siebrands of the Public Primary School in Aalten advised Walvoort’s parents to send their son to the Art Academy. However, his parents were not in favor of this. They considered it more important to “learn a good trade to earn a living.”
After primary school, he attended the Technical School, training in carpentry and masonry. Subsequently, he specialized in technical drawing. His career led him to the Volkshuisvesting, where he worked as a maintenance man for many years.
Oeuvre of drawings, paintings, and illustrations
Alongside his work, Walvoort steadily built an oeuvre consisting primarily of pen drawings and paintings featuring recognizable village and cityscapes. In a 1999 interview, he named the Achterhoek painter Piet te Lintum as his greatest inspiration—“the painting ambassador of the Achterhoek”. Modest as he was, Willy stated in an interview that an excessive amount of talent is not required to draw and paint. “If you are willing and able to put a lot of love and time into it, you will go a long way!”
Walvoort gained fame as a book illustrator in 1995. He illustrated the reissue of Henk Krosenbrink’s novel Het Beloofde Land (The Promised Land). In 1997, he provided the cover illustration for Jos Wessels’ book: Nazareth en zijn katholieken (Nazareth and its Catholics). Nout Wellink, then president of the Dutch Central Bank and born in Bredevoort, was presented with the first copy.
Final years and passing
In the final stage of his life, Walvoort spent some time in a nursing home in Varsseveld. He passed away on January 16, 2018; the funeral took place in private. Hundreds of drawings and paintings in private and local collections keep the memory of this artist alive.
Gallery
A selection of work by Willy Walvoort:
The village school on Landstraat in Aalten in 1824The village school on Landstraat in Aalten in 1824Three Protestant churches in AaltenThe Ambthuis in BredevoortThe Ambthuis in BredevoortMarkt, BredevoortTea house Bredevoort‘t Meestershuus on Geurdenstraat in AaltenDe Wever (later Schepersveld, now Suzie’s Farm), Haart
Spuitbal was an annual recurring event organised by the Aalten Fire Brigade from 1981 to 2016. Each year, this water-filled spectacle attracted many participants and spectators.
Game Setup
In Spuitbal, two teams of six people competed against each other. Each team operated three fire hoses and tried to push a large ball into the opponents’ goal using powerful jets of water. Each hose was operated by a pair: the front player aimed the jet at the ball, while the rear player had to ensure there were no kinks in the hose. The team that scored the most goals in six minutes won.
Spuitbal tournament at De Ahof (photo: Colenbrander family, via Leo van der Linde)
Spuitbal Aalten, 2015 (photo: RTV Achterhoek)
In the early years, the Spuitbal tournament was organised at various locations, including at De Ahof. In later years, the event took place at Camping Lansbulten on the Eskesweg. The necessary water was pumped from the nearby stream.
In 2008, no fewer than six women’s teams and thirty men’s teams took part. Many teams returned every year, such as De Flippers, De Pimpels, De Pollekes, Atlantic, Schiller, ’t Noorden, and Jong Gelre.
The 36th (and, as of yet, final) edition took place in 2016. In 2017, the event was cancelled due to insufficient interest, and it has not returned since.
Video
On YouTube, various videos can be found of Spuitbal in Aalten, such as the video below from Jong Gelre from 2012.
For centuries, the bells of the Oude Sint Helenakerk in Aalten have tolled to inform the population of deaths, the so-called ‘overluiden’.
It frequently happens that the bells of Old St Helen’s Church are tolled at various times in the morning. In the past, this occurred more often than it does today. In former times, almost everyone knew what this signified. Based on the time and the number of strokes, people could deduce in which rural district someone had died, as well as whether it was a child, a woman, or a man, and whether the deceased was married or unmarried.
The custom of tolling the bells when a death has occurred is called ‘overluiden’. For many centuries, the sound of bells has emanated from the monumental tower of the church on weekdays. Many people pause for a moment and think: memento mori.
The bells of Old St Helen’s Church on the Market Square in Aalten are still used for this solemn moment, always in consultation with the next of kin. The ‘overluiden’ can be performed for all deceased persons, not just for members of the Protestant Congregation.
Significance
If the bells are tolled at 9:30 AM, it concerns a resident of the rural district of Lintelo. If it occurs at 9:45 AM, someone from de Haart has passed away. At 10:00 AM, the bells toll for a death in Dale or IJzerlo, and at 10:15 AM for someone from the Aaltense Heurne. If it concerns someone from Barlo, the time is 10:30 AM. Often the bells toll at 11:00 AM, which signifies the ‘overluiden’ of a deceased person from the village of Aalten.
For a man or widower, the clapper bell is struck three times before and after the tolling. For a woman or widow, the clapper bell is struck twice three times before and after the tolling. For an unmarried person or a child, this occurs three times twice before and after the tolling.
In 2015, as part of the commemorations for 70 years of liberation, a commemorative column was placed at the Old General Cemetery in Aalten to honour all local soldiers who fought on and around the Grebbeberg in May 1940. Seven servicemen from Aalten lost their lives during the conflict. Their names and photographs have been immortalised on the column.
The text on the column reads:
Soldiers from Aalten in May 1940
In the early morning of 10 May 1940, German troops invaded the neutral Netherlands. For our country, this marked the beginning of World War II. Mobilised Dutch soldiers took up positions in several lines of defence, including the Grebbe Line. Fierce fighting took place in the main resistance strip on and around the Grebbeberg near Rhenen.
Photo: R. Neerhof, 2025
Most soldiers survived the battle and were able to return to Aalten, often after a brief period as prisoners of war. Seven families remained in a state of uncertainty for some time. Eventually, they received the tragic news that their sons would not be returning; they had fallen in battle. Their lives were devastated by this great loss. At this site, all Aalten soldiers who fought in May 1940 are remembered.
Many residents of the Achterhoek, including a considerable number of young men from Aalten, were assigned to the 8th Infantry Regiment (8 R.I.). This unit played a vital role in the defence of the Grebbeberg. The poorly trained and equipped soldiers fought an unequal battle against an overwhelming enemy. Bravely, they attempted to hold their ground for as long as possible. The Germans, with awe, referred to the hill as ‘Der Teufelsberg’ (The Devil’s Mountain). Nevertheless, our country was forced to capitulate on 14 May 1940.
Gunter Demnig placing the first Stolpersteine in Aalten
In Aalten, 34 Stolpersteine (stumbling stones) are laid across twelve addresses. A Stolperstein is a memorial stone placed in the pavement in front of the house from which people were deported by the Nazis to extermination camps during World War II. When you see such a stone—usually unexpectedly—with the name of a victim, you are momentarily reminded of how millions became victims of systematic murder during that war.
The stones have a surface area of 10 by 10 cm. A brass plate is affixed to the top, into which the name, year of birth, date of deportation, and the place and date of death are stamped. Each stone serves as a memorial to a single victim: a person who lived in that very spot and was deported from there, never to return.
Originator
The Stolpersteine project was conceived by the German artist Gunter Demnig. He deliberately kept the size of these ‘stones of offence’ small, requiring one to bow down to read the inscriptions.
Demnig began laying the first Stolperstein in 1997 in the Berlin district of Kreuzberg. Today, Stolpersteine can be found in many countries. Gunter Demnig thus gives every victim their own individual monument. His motto is: “A person is only forgotten when his or her name is forgotten.”
Initially, he made all the stones himself, as he felt mass production conflicted with the project’s ethos. However, forced by the project’s rapid growth, he is now assisted by an artist friend. He insists on personally laying the first stones in any given location. The remaining stones are now usually installed by municipal pavers.
Stolpersteine in Aalten
In Aalten, 34 Stolpersteine have been laid at the following addresses:
’t Dal 1: Levi Salomon Schaap, Ella Schaap-Philips, Eliazar Hars Schaap, Frits Landau, Amalia Landau-Lorch
Dijkstraat 10a: Levie van Gelder, Jula van Gelder-Landau, Arnold van Gelder
Eerste Broekdijk 51: Roberth Fuldauer, Rozetta Fuldauer-van Gelder, Lina Sara Fuldauer, Sara Fuldauer, Meijer David Fuldauer, Cato Konijn
Grevinkweg 5: Sally Fuldauer, Regina Fuldauer-de Jong
In one instance, the stone could not be placed in front of the victim’s residence because the building (Industriestraat 4) no longer exists, nor is there a pavement where it could be installed. Therefore, this stone was laid in front of the synagogue.
In 2011, Aalten made national headlines due to a remarkable story: a small religious community had settled at the Rensink farm in Lintelo, awaiting the Apocalypse. They called themselves the ‘Wachters van de Nacht’ (Watchers of the Night).
At their farm, they were preparing for survival during the end times. According to them, the Apocalypse would soon arrive with a tsunami, causing large parts of the Netherlands to be submerged underwater. Higher-lying Aalten would, as a result, find itself located on the coast.
Jokers posted satirical videos on YouTube in which Aalten-on-Sea was presented as a sunny seaside resort, where the local retail sector had effortlessly adapted to the demand for beach entertainment. However, according to the Watchers themselves, anyone who ignored their warnings would have to face the consequences. A drowning death awaited them. In the meantime, the Watchers stocked up on large food supplies for the refugees they expected to arrive from the Randstad (the major urban area in the west of the Netherlands).
Antonie (Anton) Kuijsten (1917–2007) was a teacher and headteacher in Aalten, as well as a self-taught woodcarver, draughtsman and watercolourist. From its founding until his retirement, he led the Reformed (Hervormde) School Aalten-Zuid (later renamed De Broekhof). His surname is also frequently spelt as Kuysten.
Kuijsten was born on 5 October 1917 in Huizen. His mother passed away when he was eight years old, but thanks to the way his father supported the family and the live-in housekeeper who remained with them for a long time, he still enjoyed a happy childhood.
After graduating from the teacher training college (kweekschool) in Amsterdam, Kuijsten taught at various locations, including Naarden, Muiden, Rheden—where he met his future wife—and Zutphen. During the final months of the occupation, he went into hiding to avoid being forced to work for the occupying forces. On 11 April 1947, he married Hendrina Groenewoud in Rheden.
Upon the opening of the 2nd Dutch Reformed School Aalten-Zuid in 1954 (which later became the Broekhofschool), he was appointed as headteacher. Kuijsten was renowned as a storyteller who brought history lessons to life “as if he had been there himself”. By 1967, the family was living at Wilhelminastraat 4 in Aalten. He was also highly active within the Protestant Church: for over twenty years, he led the children’s church services in Aalten-Zuid, and he served as an elder for a period of time.
Alongside his teaching career, Kuijsten developed his skills as a self-taught woodcarver, draughtsman and painter. In addition to watercolours, he produced drawings using liquid watercolour (ecoline). He also created items such as birthday calendars. He is featured in the book Kunstig Aalten (2021), an overview of artists from Aalten compiled by Leo van der Linde.
The sudden death of his wife in 1987 was a profound loss. For several years, he laid down his brush and pencil, though he fortunately managed to resume his creative work later on. In the final phase of his life, he faced frail health. Following an admission to the hospital in Winterswijk and a short stay at the ’t Hoge Veld care home, he ultimately passed away in hospital. The funeral took place on 1 December 2007, following a thanksgiving service at the Old Helenakerk in Aalten. He was laid to rest at the Berkenhove cemetery.
Anton Kuysten (1917–2007)Zutphens Dagblad, 10 May 1954
Gallery
A selection of works by Anton Kuijsten:
The Kloosterbos (Monastery Woods) near BredevoortThe Sermon on the Mount, woodcarving‘Beestman’ farmhouse on the Haart near Aalten (rear view)Eskes farmhouse in winter on the Haart in AaltenInterior of the Big or St Helen’s Church in Aalten, south sideHijinkdijk, HaartAkkermateweg, LinteloCountry lane on the Akkermateweg in Aalten
Joop and Truus Doodeheefver were an artist couple who moved from Amsterdam to Aalten in 1973 and remained active there for decades. In Aalten, Joop (1924–2001) focused on drawings and transparent watercolours of landscapes and farms. Truus (1928–2004) created portraits, animal figures and independent work in bronze, aluminium and wood. They regularly exhibited together within the region and further afield.
Johannes Christoffel (Joop) Doodeheefver was born in Amsterdam on 6 June 1924. He trained in the studio of Nel Fernhout and worked for approximately thirty years as a designer-colourist at his father’s wallpaper factory, the firm Rath & Doodeheefver. In 1945, he married Truus Kremer.
Geertruida Jeannette Frederika (Truus) Kremer was born in Leiden on 15 February 1928. Shortly afterwards, the family moved to Amsterdam. She learned sculpting from Adrianus Remiëns and married Joop Doodeheefver in 1945.
Move to Aalten
The couple had long cherished the desire to one day leave hectic Amsterdam behind and settle in the “as yet unspoilt east”. In 1973, they put their words into action and settled with their family at the monumental farmhouse De Kiefte in the Aalten hamlet of Heurne.
Here, Joop dedicated himself to sketching and painting watercolours of the surrounding landscapes and farms. He also undertook a great deal of commissioned work to capture objects, individuals and landscapes for future generations. Additionally, he provided the illustrations for the book De Freule van Dorth (The Noblewoman of Dorth), written by Ben Bekker (1974).
Truus sculpted naturalistic portraits and animal figures, and also produced woodcarvings. A well-known piece by her hand is the statuette of Hendrickje Stoffels at ’t Zand in Bredevoort (1977).
They exhibited successfully both jointly and individually, both in the Netherlands and abroad.
Gallery
A selection of works by Joop and Truus Doodeheefver:
Hendrickje Stoffels, Bredevoort (Truus Doodeheefver)Small stream behind De Kiefte (Heurne), by Joop DoodeheefverDe Freule van Dorth, written by Ben Bekker and illustrated by Joop Doodeheefver (1974)
Huisstededijk, IJzerlo (just before the Keizersbeek bridge)
The ‘Flying for Peace’ (Vliegen voor de Vrede) monument is a commemorative memorial located on Huisstededijk in the Aalten rural district of IJzerlo. The monument was erected in memory of the crash of a British bomber during World War II, which came down in a nearby potato field on the night of 26 June 1943.
On that particular night, over 400 British bombers flew over the Achterhoek on a mission to bomb the petrochemical industry in Gelsenkirchen. One of these aircraft, a Short Stirling BK767 of 214 Squadron, Royal Air Force, with seven crew members on board, had taken off just before midnight on 25 June.
At approximately 01:20, the aircraft was set ablaze by night fighter pilot Oberleutnant Ludwig Meister, flying a Messerschmitt Bf 110 G-4 that had recently scrambled from Venlo airfield. The Stirling crashed into a potato field between the farms of the Van Lochem family on Huisstededijk and the Ter Horst family on Veldweg.
Of the seven crew members, only two survived the crash. They were later captured near Hemden and spent the remainder of the war in German prisoner-of-war camps. The other five crew members perished and were buried following a brief ceremony on 29 June 1943 at Berkenhove Cemetery in Aalten.
The following day, many Aalten residents flocked to the cemetery. On the middle grave, members of the underground resistance laid a wreath with ribbons bearing the text: “Gebroken vleugels, onsterfelijke roem” (Broken wings, immortal fame). By order of the occupying forces, these words had to be removed, but they live on through the monument today.
Survivors (taken prisoner): • F/O K.A. Nielson • Sgt E.G. Taylor
The Monument
In 2003, a monument was unveiled at the spot where one of the crew members’ bodies was found, near the cycle bridge over the stream on Huisstededijk. The creator, Wim Westerveld, gave it the name ‘Flying for Peace’ and designed an artwork containing multiple layers of symbolism.
The monument consists of a white stone sphere topped with a metal sculpture that, from certain angles, represents a dove and, from others, flames. The sphere rests on a metal pipe angled into the ground, to which a plaque is attached. One of the two survivors, navigator Edwin Taylor (born 1922), was present at the unveiling of the monument.
Significance
The sculpture represents the Earth with a dove of peace on top, symbolising the desire for peace. However, from certain viewpoints, the dove transforms into flames, symbolising the tragic event of the crash and the fiery dedication of the crew to their mission. The flames also refer to the fire of the bomb load the aircraft was carrying. The broken wings on the monument are a symbol of the crew’s abruptly ended mission.
The monument serves not only as a memorial to the crew of Stirling BK767 but also conveys a broader message. It acts as a warning against war and reminds us of the freedom we enjoy today. It calls upon us to cherish this freedom and to grant it to others as well.
A highly valuable source of information for Old Aalten is the publication Boerderij- en Veldnamen in Aalten (Farm and Field Names in Aalten). It is an important reference work of toponyms in the municipality of Aalten, prior to the municipal reorganization with Dinxperlo in 2005.1 It provides insight into the names of farms and parcels as they were often used for centuries, before land consolidation and modernization left their mark on the landscape.
Objective and Content
The primary goal of this edition was to record historical farm and field names for posterity. This reference work contains a register with approximately 750 farm names and more than 1,650 field names. Additionally, it features numerous photographs, explanations of the naming conventions, and topographical maps.
The information was collected by the Oudheidkundige Werkgemeenschap Aalten-Dinxperlo-Wisch (ADW), under the coordination of B.J. Dorrestijn. The final compilation was established under the editorship of Loes Maas and Mr. A.H.G. Schaars of the Staring Instituut in Doetinchem, which later merged into the Erfgoedcentrum Achterhoek & Liemers (ECAL).
Historical Significance
The farm and field names reveal much about the history of the agricultural landscape in Aalten. They often refer to the location or use of the parcel, the families who lived there, or the professions practiced. For farmers, it was practical to use a single name to indicate where the laborer, farmhand, or smallholder (katerboer) needed to plow, harrow, or sow.
Many of these names were mentioned in archives and documents centuries ago, for example, to record ownership and occupancy. However, since the land consolidation, field names have fallen into disuse, and the introduction of street names in 1967 also reduced the use of farm names. For genealogists and local historians, however, they remain important starting points for genealogical research and the study of regional history. 2
Availability
Although the publication is no longer available as new, second-hand copies can still be found through antiquarian bookstores and private sellers.
Extent: 112 pages
Format: 297×210 mm (A4), landscape
Compilers: B.J. Dorrestijn (coordination); Loes H. Maas, A.H.G. Schaars (editing)
Publisher: Staring Instituut / Mr. H.J. Steenbergen-Stichting / Oudheidkundige Werkgemeenschap ADW, 2002
ISBN: 90-73667-53-4
Footnotes
In 2024, Boerderij- en Veldnamen in Dinxperlo (Farm and Field Names in Dinxperlo) was published (source) ↩︎
On 11 April 1996, Aalten was briefly global news. At the Kropveld-Schipstal Aalten (KSA) abattoir, 64,000 British calves were to be culled. This was carried out by order of the Ministry of Agriculture due to the potential contamination with ‘mad cow disease’, or BSE.
Never before in Dutch history had calves been transported to the abattoir with such spectacle as the first 108 head of cattle brought to Aalten from the Veluwe that day. The operation, which was to last six weeks, caused a great stir in the Netherlands and beyond.
For KSA, the slaughter of the 64,000 calves was a massive, and certainly financially attractive, job. The company normally slaughtered 2,000 calves weekly for the Japanese market. Those operations were suspended for six weeks for this special commission, during which approximately 10,000 calves had to be slaughtered per week.
Image: KesselsKramer, Amsterdam
Demonstrations
The lorries in which the animals made their way to the slaughterhouse were escorted by two riot police control vehicles. Upon arrival at KSA, they were met by a crowd of activists and curious onlookers. Members of animal welfare organisations, such as the Vegetarian Association, Lekker Dier, and PETA, had taken up positions at the abattoir fence with banners and sandwich boards. A funeral wreath hung on the metal gate, wooden crosses lay on the street, and the protesters wore black clothing.
As the first three lorry combinations carrying calves approached the iron gate of KSA, the jeering of the crowd swelled. “Murderers, murderers”, chanted a motley mixture of animal rights activists and local teenagers towards the drivers. Half a minute later, the gate slammed shut again. The slaughter could begin.
The private security service hired by the KSA management after a bomb threat had been received at the company the day before ensured that none of the protesters could enter the abattoir grounds. When the gate was closed again, a young PETA sympathiser collapsed and gave free rein to her tears. A group of locals reacted indifferently to the silent grief. Pointing at the piercing the girl had had placed through her lower lip, a corpulent Aalten resident lisped: “A piece of rope through that ring and she wouldn’t look out of place among those calves…”
Press conference
On the day of the arrival of the first British calves, a press centre was set up in café De Driesprong. Mayor Tijme Bouwers presided over the press conference. The municipality of Aalten provided logistical measures to clear the way for the dozens of lorries delivering thousands of calves daily. KSA director H. Swinkels emphasised that stringent safety measures had been taken regarding the potential risks of contamination.
To see for themselves that the slaughter was painless for the animals and, due to the measures taken, risk-free for the staff, journalists were allowed a look inside the abattoir later that afternoon. Wearing special overalls that were destroyed after use, the tour led past the slaughter hall and the specially refrigerated storage silos for the blood. This viscous mass—a total of 450,000 litres—was transported by tanker to Rotterdam to be incinerated. The carcasses were sent daily in sealed containers to companies in Son and the Frisian town of Bergum.
After a number of hectic days, peace returned to Aalten.
Bernard Leezer (57) lives in Aalten in the Achterhoek. Although he ran a butcher’s shop for twenty-six years, he does not really consider himself a butcher. He is a father of three sons and a daughter, and a grandfather of two. A conversation about meat, hiding from the Nazis, and football
“Both my parents have passed away. My father was a cattle dealer and my mother came from a well-to-do family in Wilhelmshaven in Northern Germany. She didn’t really suit my father at all. He was a stubborn man from Groningen who didn’t care much for etiquette. It caused friction. If my father came home and forgot to wash his hands before dinner, all hell would break loose. Of course, he wasn’t the type to just let himself be pushed around, so he’d fight back. And then my mother would say: ‘Na und wie bist du denn, wie bist du denn überhaupt?’ Mother spoke German at home. She spoke fluent Dutch too, but she hardly ever used it. I was raised bilingual.”
“My mother’s father was a horse dealer. She always used to go to the tennis court in a pony and trap. Anyone who did that back then belonged to the upper class. That’s why I always say my parents only met out of necessity. She fled to the Netherlands in 1932 with her two children—both my father and mother had been married before. My father had six children from his first marriage. Two of his children, one with a husband and child, were gassed. I am the only child from the second marriage.”
“My mother was a dominant woman. She always protected her own children, while my father’s children had to take a back seat. They had to fend for themselves from an early age. Of course, it wasn’t easy for them to accept a woman who wasn’t their mother either. Father was the kind of man who, for the sake of peace, would just think: Never mind. Let it be.”
“I was heavily influenced by my mother. If I wanted to go on holiday, she would say: ‘Du brauchst nicht so weit weg, wenn etwas passiert. When you are old enough, you will look for a wife and go to work.’ I became a butcher against my will. I actually wanted to be a pilot. Mother wouldn’t hear of it. So a butcher it was, but I’m not really a butcher at heart. I’m too emotional. I am against ritual slaughter because I believe an animal has the right to be stunned. God gave us the animals. Fair enough, but does a beast have to suffer that much pain before we scoff it down?”
“The first Jews to be rounded up were the Fuldauers. They lived right near us. They were taken away by PC Dijke from Aalten. He was a small, fanatical bloke. The Fuldauer family walked along packed to the rafters, and he walked in front, loosely wheeling his bicycle by his side, leading those people to the community hall. That’s where the Jews were gathered before being transported to Westerbork. People were standing outside the slaughterhouse, and they said: ‘Alright Dijke, you can keep that up all day, can’t you?’ Then my mother said: ‘It’s time. We have to leave.’ After the war, that Dijke fellow came into our shop once. I walked around the counter and said: ‘Get out, Dijke, and never come back, or we’ll cleave you in two.’ He was the man who took away the first Jidden from Aalten, and he just strolled in as if nothing had happened.”
“Kees Ruizendaal, nicknamed Zwarte Kees (Black) Kees)—also a policeman, but a good one—helped us find a hiding place. He was later executed by firing squad in Doesburg. First, I stayed with my half-sister Helga at the Klein-Entink farm, and later with my parents at Hendrik Groot-Nibbelink’s place on the Stroete in Lintelo. We were hidden with three orphans. They were practically children themselves. Drika, the oldest, was 26; Hendrik and Bernard were in their early twenties. To me, they are heroes. You know what would have happened to them if we’d been caught. They were Christian people. They did what they did out of love, not for the money. I think about that often. I find what they did incredible. Hendrik passed away last year. The vicar gave a beautiful sermon. I went and sat in the refreshment room. I felt that if I looked at the vicar, I’d get such a massive lump in my throat. I couldn’t well let myself go like that as a grown man, could I?”
“While we were in hiding, I used to go outside with Hendrik at night once it was dark. Next to the farmhouse stood an old apple tree. It leaned terribly and had to be propped up. Between the props was a tiny patch of land. If Hendrik had sown rye that day, for instance, I would go and sow rye on that little patch of land at night. He was my great role model; that’s why I was so heartbroken when the man died. He was like a father to me.”
“I spent a lot of time with the cows or with the horse. The Germans requisitioned Lies—that was her name—at one point. She was a right handful. She bit and kicked everyone except me. I could practically sleep right next to her. Hendrik managed to fetch Lies back because the Germans couldn’t control her. I was so happy she was back. At least I could cuddle her again. Drika used to play games with me. My father was too old to play with me. He was terrified that something would happen to me. I don’t know if he would have survived it. He was completely barmy about me. Later on, when I started going out and came home late, he could never go to sleep. He always stayed awake and would say: ‘Where on earth is that boy?’ My mother was more down-to-earth.”
“For a while—when it became too dangerous at Groot-Nibbelink’s—we also stayed with the Pennings family in Varsseveld. They were a very devout Christian family. During the war, he would go to Delft with a horse and cart to fetch glass. He sat on the box with the reins in one hand and a Bible in the other. Pennings had nine children. I often sit by the brook now, thinking: what must have gone through that man’s mind. He had to keep the peace in his family, keep us calm, and keep a cool head himself. The house was searched once at Pennings’ place. We were hidden under the straw along with sixteen other Jews and people from the underground resistance. One of those ‘blacks’ [NSB/collaborators] stood with his great boots right on my mother’s hand. He crushed her whole hand. Pennings was downstairs playing the organ: Abide with Me. Every time I hear that hymn, it takes me right back.”
“We hid with true Christians, and later I went to a Christian school. But I never felt the urge to become a Christian. My half-sister Helga joined the Reformed Church. Well, that took a few drops of water, but that was about the extent of it. Truly, you can have a stable full of Trakehner and Hanoverian horses, but if you put an Arabian among them, it stands out. You cannot deny who you are. The first thing people say is: ‘That’s a real Jewish trick.’ At home, my father and mother kept Jewish life alive for me. My mother wasn’t particularly pious. My father was orthodox. His whole life, even during the war, he never ate gasser (non-kosher meat). You are a Jid, and there’s no escaping it. I’ve always said: ‘I was born a Jid, and I’ll die a Jid.’”
“I couldn’t live in Israel because of the heat, but when I’m in Eretz, I love it. We go there regularly because our daughter lives there. When I go to shul here, I think pff, but there I think it’s wonderful. Afterwards, you stand around having a nice little schmooze with a group. You can’t do that here anymore. You could before the war. Before the war, about a hundred Jews lived in Aalten. After the war, we struggled to form a minyan. It’s just a completely different atmosphere. You can’t imagine walking down the street in Aalten wearing a kippah nowadays.”
“I can’t say I was frightened at the time. I can only remember that after the war, when I was at school, I was scared to death of the postman. I went to the Groen van Prinsterer school. It was an old-fashioned school with a very long corridor, with the toilets at the far end. If I came out of the toilet and Mr Terbrake was standing at the other end of the corridor in his postman’s uniform, I’d be rooted to the spot because I thought I’d seen a ‘black’. That’s what happens when you’ve spent years being told: ‘They’ll kill you.’ Terbrake would quickly go to Miss Jonker and say: ‘Bennie’s frozen at the end of the corridor.’ She would come and get me. She’d put an arm around me and take me back to class.”
“The Groen van Prinsterer was a fantastic school. It was a Christian school. I never once heard the word ‘Jew’ used as an insult there. It was quite a different story at the public school. I had to have remedial lessons because at eleven years old, I couldn’t even read or write. While in hiding, we did read little booklets, and when the war ended, my father said: ‘He reads like there’s no tomorrow.’ But you mustn’t forget that if you read me a booklet like that a thousand times, I’ll eventually know it by heart. At first, they fell for it, but the moment a different book was put in front of me, I couldn’t make head or tail of it.”
“During the war, I wasn’t aware that it was a matter of life or death. No one can tell me that an eight-year-old boy understands that. We were told: ‘You mustn’t go outside because people are walking around out there who will kill you.’ That doesn’t really sink in for a child. You can tell a dog a thousand times: ‘Leave that alone.’ And eventually, it won’t touch it anymore. But as for why it’s forbidden—it doesn’t understand that.”
Aaltensche Courant, 4 May 1945
“During the final period of the war, we stayed with Hendrik on the Stroete again. We lived there for the first few months after the liberation too, because we no longer had a house. My mother went looking for her furniture. She managed to get a lot of it back. My father took out a loan from a Christian church. He was a bit casual about paying it back; years later, we still received a final notice. Right after the war, he put an advert in the newspaper: ‘After two and a half years in hiding, I am reopening my butcher’s shop’. My father wasn’t a good butcher. He was a cattle dealer. A proper trader. Very much a case of: one, two, up you get, just sign for that beast.”
“After primary school, I went to the technical secondary school. I didn’t want to go at all, but my mother said: ‘Du sollst ein Handwerk lernen.’ I ended up getting a whole load of diplomas. Alongside that, I always did a lot of sport: tennis, hockey, and football. My father wouldn’t give me money for football boots. ‘You’ll just have to earn it,’ he said. I always had to help my father, but I never got paid for it. My brother-in-law ran an emergency slaughterhouse. If there was an emergency slaughter in the middle of the night, he’d ring and wake me up, and I’d go and help him. I didn’t get any money for that either, but I did get the head, the tongue, the udder, and the liver, and I sold those. That’s how I bought my football boots.”
“I played as a semi-professional for De Graafschap. I moved from Aalten Football Club to Winterswijk Football Club. WVC was an elitist club. Because I went to school in Winterswijk and was in the school team, I caught people’s eyes. When I moved from Aalten to Winterswijk, I was called a ‘rotten Jew’. Why? I was turning my back on Aalten. WVC was an elite club, and they hated them. I was a really fast right winger. But I was very slightly built. They only had to tap my ankle and I’d go rolling over thirty-four times. Later on, I played centre-forward too. I was actually too small for it, but I’d always go tumbling to the ground, and that would get the referee on our side. I played two seasons for De Graafschap, until one day I was kicked out of the match by Dick Tol, nicknamed ‘the gnarled’.”
Leezer butcher’s shop, Peperstraat (1975)
“In the end, I ran a butcher’s shop for 26 years. Looking back now, I say: ‘I’d never want to do it again.’ A hundred grams of this, a hundred grams of that. Never again, though I did have some fun. Especially in the early sixties, we got a lot of German customers. Meat was cheaper in the Netherlands than in Germany. You had to be careful not to give the Germans preferential treatment, otherwise you’d get earfuls from the Dutch. Dutch customers were always served immediately by my assistant or my wife. Even if there were three Germans ahead of them, a Dutch person was served first. I’d make a joke of it and say: ‘Kurt, ich hilf dir’.”
“In the evenings, the restaurant owners from Bocholt would come in and order ten or fifteen racks of pork chops. There were a few customs officers who always came to get meat. They never had to pay. When they came by, they’d say: ‘Blimey, I’m on duty again tonight.’ And then in the evening, I’d get in my little Opel, take out the spare wheel, put the racks of chops in, and pop right over the border. I could always drive straight through. My wife knew nothing about it, and I thought: what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. It was a time of adventure and wheeling and dealing.”
The old house in Prinsenstraat, next to the building of the Dutch Protestant Union (Nederlandse Protestantenbond), has been demolished. It was a very old house that had seen a great deal of joy and sorrow. It stood somewhat askew in relation to the street. One corner of the property stood more than half a metre closer to the street than the corner opposite it.
The old house was later extended with an additional storey and demolished in 1989. (Photo: H. ten Dam).
Now, a new building has taken its place. The street has undoubtedly taken on a more attractive appearance due to this redevelopment. The old house was in a state of severe disrepair. It must have stood there for around two centuries and was occupied by the Manschot blacksmith family from the end of the eighteenth century onwards.
Jacob Manschot and his family lived there in Achterstraat, which was then number 193. His wife, Elizabet Arentzen, was a sister of Roelof Arentzen, who later became the assessor of Aalten. Their son Gerrit Willem, born in 1802 and addressed in daily life by his second name, learned the blacksmith’s trade from his father at an early age and subsequently joined his father in the smithy. An older son in the family, Hendrik Jan, who was also a blacksmith, had a smithy elsewhere in the village.1 Then there was also a daughter named Elisabeth.
Double wedding
On 17 December 1833, celebrations took place in the house. Son Willem married Johanna Geertruijt Becking, known simply as Janna. Elisabeth also entered into marriage on that same day, wedding B.D.G. Muller. Muller was a merchant, and his trade was extensive. In addition to drapery and haberdashery, it encompassed grain, paint, hardware, religious books, musical instruments, hay, and straw.
Apart from the Manschot family, the Beckings and Mullers were also related to the most prominent residents, who, as assessors, municipal tax collectors, or “co-judges”, were able to exert a great deal of influence.
Schaars’s inn
Elisabeth left the house on Achterstraat, and Janna moved in with her parents-in-law. It was then number 228. Janna Becking was born on 24 November 1809. She was a daughter of Lourens Becking, a farmer originally from Varsseveld, and Willemina Geertruijd Schaars, the daughter of an Aalten innkeeper. Following his marriage in 1799, Lourens Becking had become the innkeeper there.
Schaars’s inn was located at the beginning of Peperstraat, on the corner of the Markt. It was run by a member of the Schaars family as early as 1748 and currently, after nearly two hundred and fifty years, still serves the very same purpose. Janna grew up there. She would have attended the village school next to the church, where schoolmaster Schotman taught.
Church organists
As mentioned, Jacob Manschot was a blacksmith, but on Sundays, he played the organ during services in the church on the Markt. When the Zelhem congregation had to appoint a new organist in 1829, Jacob was appointed to act as a judge. He had to assess the playing of the three applicants. In his report on the matter, he wrote: “…having given each of them the same Psalm and hymn, it appeared to me that the last to play possesses the greatest aptitude. Done at Zelhem the 24th of July 1829. J. Manschot”.
However, by 1842, he wished to step down, being 73 years old by then. In a petition to King Willem II, he requested that his son Gerrit Willem succeed him as organist. From that time onward, Willem Manschot served as the organist.
The family
Joy and sorrow alternated in the lives of Willem and Janna. Their eldest infant son, Jacob, passed away at the age of two. Their eldest daughter, Louiza, had been born in 1836. Elisabeth (Betje) followed in 1838. Two years later, Willemina Geertruijda (Mina) saw the light of day, and in 1842, a son followed who was again given the name Jacob. In 1844, Hendrika Johanna (Heintje) was born, and in 1847, Hendrik Jan, who was addressed by his second name. The youngest was Barend Johannis in 1850, or Bernard in daily life. Janna’s father had already passed away in 1830, prior to her marriage. Her mother survived her husband by twelve years and died in 1842.
When grandfather Jacob turned 78, his ten-year-old granddaughter Louiza came to him with a poem: “To greet you with my prayers, On this joyful day of today. Day on which it is your birthday, Grandfather, to me so dear and valued! Day on which I must reflect, What Heaven continued to grant me In possessing you, who always Stands by my side so affectionately.” The verse continued for a bit longer, followed by the signature: “Your loving Granddaughter Louiza”.
The girl also composed a poem on the occasion of her mother’s birthday: “Oh what a joy, dear Mother, Since today is your birthday. Grateful to the Preserver of All, I am gladdened on this day.” This daughter also knew how to express her wishes in poetic form for the New Year, composing a “New Year’s Wish to our highly esteemed Grandfather and dear Parents”. She decorated her wishes with borders of vines, flowers, garlands, or ornaments.
The elderly Jacob Manschot passed away in 1850 at the age of 82, after having been a widower for six years. Willem’s brother had also died by that time.
At the time the Manschots lived in Achterstraat, the house had a pointed roof. (Collection: E.M. Smilda).
Willem’s smithy
Willem Manschot dedicated himself diligently to his work in the smithy. For Kobus Prins, he made “a blade for the hoe”. He forged a “haar”, which is a small anvil used to sharpen a scythe or sickle, known as a haarspit. He made a “grepe” (manure fork), repaired the “rear axle of a wagon”, and fitted iron bands around the rims of wagon wheels. He delivered a “knife for cutting bread”, riveted “an iron onto a plate at the hearth”, and manufactured “an oven door” for L. Prins.
In between all these blacksmith duties, Willem also managed his property portfolio of lands and farms, which he leased out. Repairs had to be carried out there from time to time as well. In one place, “4 brass handles with their fittings” were installed; in another, the “latch was repaired, and a new plate bolt with a new catch” was made for the windows.
Sometimes customers paid him in kind, such as Kobus Prins who, for the benefit of Willem’s livestock, collected a few loads of hay from the Ruiterij, the pasture near De Pol. Others transported the harvested rye “from the Esch”. For Willem also ran a small farming operation of his own and owned a barn for his livestock on the opposite side of the street. Like every resident, he kept one or two cows; those of lesser means kept a goat, ‘the poor man’s cow’. In the slaughter month, a home-fattened pig would be hung on a ladder, which a day later was cut into pieces and placed into the salting tub, and even later hung from the kitchen ceiling, the ‘wieme’ (bacon rack). For the daily chores associated with this, he likely employed a farmhand or day labourer. Well-to-do citizens also kept a horse and had a carriage as a means of transport when going visiting.
Horses were no strangers to Willem either. How many had he not provided with new horseshoes in his smithy. Yet on one occasion, this proved fatal to him when he was kicked by a horse. The blow hit very hard. Severely injured, he was placed into his box bed in an unconscious state. His wife nursed him for two weeks, after which he died. Janna had become a widow, the children fatherless, and the church council had to look for a new organist.
The blacksmith and church organist G. Willem Manschot, who died in 1853 following a blow from a horse. (Collection: H. ten Dam).
J.G. (Janna) Manschot-Becking (1809-1892) lived in Achterstraat for nearly sixty years. (Collection: H. ten Dam).
Extensive possessions
Now Janna suddenly stood alone with her seven, still young children. The eldest daughter, Louiza, was only seventeen years old, and little Bernard was just three. Initially, attempts were made to keep the business running with the help of a journeyman, but this proved impossible. Janna was forced to close the smithy.
It was fortunate that there were substantial property holdings. This enabled her to provide for her livelihood from the income they generated, and furthermore, to pay for her children’s education. None of the boys had been in a position to learn the blacksmith’s trade from their father. Consequently, this profession never occurred in the family again.
Since the passing of her husband, Janna kept the accounts for the leased lands and smallholdings. She maintained these records in a folio-sized “Land Lease” (Landhuur) book. In it, the lands were categorised into garden land, arable land, pasture, and uncultivated plots.
Garden land for vegetable plots
By garden land (hofland), Janna meant the relatively small plots situated close to the village that were used as vegetable gardens. In her accounts, she notes the names of plots, some of which are still known today. Most pieces of the garden land were divided into various parcels, and each parcel had its tenant.
There were four parcels on the “Boskerhof”. This may have been near ’t Boske, at the end of Richterinkstraat and on Varsseveldsestraatweg. The plot in “den Kraayenboom” likewise consisted of four parcels. That name is still known today for the land opposite the agricultural school on Lijsterbeslaan. Hendrik Jan Meinen was a tenant for ƒ 3.50, as was Lammert Prange. Willem Kasseler and Lammert Klompenhouwer clearly had a smaller piece, as they paid ƒ 2.00 and ƒ 1.50 respectively. Later, Janna used a garden there herself, as did Willem Huls, Mrs Hoftijzer, and Abraham ten Dam.
Then mention is made of the Knibbelweide, which must have been located on the Kemena. There were six parcels there. The total yield from this was ƒ 14.20 per year, though this had risen to ƒ 19.70 after 1883. Furthermore, there was a parcel in the Paardeweide leased by a man named Laak. The Paardeweide was also located on the Kemena, where the building of the Christian Comprehensive School stands today.
Finally, Janna’s bookkeeping records thirteen parcels of garden land on Het Smees. Gardening there were, among others, Berend Prins, Jan Kappers nicknamed “Hompele”, and Hendrik-Jan Schaapveld. Later tenants included Jan de Wikker, Kris Veldboom, Jan te Hoonte, and “the wife of the Wildeboer”.
The gardens on Het Smees frequently changed tenants. The names of Willem Walvoort, Jan Neerhof, and H.H. ter Beest also appear, the latter later leased to Fles, as well as D.J. Hoitink, G.J. Rots, and Hendrikus te Hennepe.
Until 1862, the garden land generated an annual rental income of ƒ 81.70. From 1863 to 1882, this was leased out through the mediation of notary B.A. Roelvink. The yield was then significantly higher, namely ƒ 98.05. When this notary passed away in 1882, he was succeeded by notary Maitland, but from then on, Janna made the lease agreements herself again. However, the income was then a few guilders less per year.
Not everyone paid their rent on time. It had been agreed that payment would be made on St Martin’s Day, which is 11 November, but some did not bring the money until the following year. Janna sometimes had to wait until May. In a number of cases, when the rental debt kept mounting, the tenancies of those involved were terminated. Some were three years in arrears.
The leased arable land
In addition to garden land, Janna also owned arable land that she leased out. These were often plots of one or more schepelzaad (an old unit of land area) in size. This arable land was located “at the front of the Esch”, by which is meant the plot where the Sonoco factory stands today on Damstraat. On the Smees lay 64.50 ares, and on the Boskeres 55.10 ares. In the Giezenbos “a molderszaad” (another old land measure), furthermore 50.90 ares were located there; the Draaiom arable land was 28.70 ares, which she sold in 1872 to the “Reformed Poor” (Hervormde Armen); the Holland 58 ares; the Neerhoffer Delle 42.50 ares; Smachtschot 65.10 ares, as well as another “molderszaad”. Then mention was made of Langevoren, nine schepelzaad in size, or 1.27.70 ha. Behind the Linde, Janna held more arable land, as well as the Peereboom piece, measuring 38.40 ares, and four pieces of Kempink, five schepelzaad on Prinsenkamp, and another plot located “on the Nes”.
Janna owned several of these lands jointly with her two brothers. Most plots were leased for a sum of money, but a few were also leased against the “third sheaf” (derde garf). This meant that the tenant owed a third of the yield as rent in kind. For the tenant, this had the advantage that if the harvest yielded little, the rent was also less.
The third sheaf concerned the rye crop, while sometimes the landlord/landlady (lessor) was entitled to some fruit from the orchard. In later years, the third sheaf was abolished on “Smachtschot”, which had been leased under those conditions by Lievers. The latter subsequently “bought the sheaves for 8 guilders”.
Janna also made use of services in return on multiple occasions. In 1880, “Derk Hoftijzer brought back a new water bucket from Bocholt”, and a year later, he sowed for her “a schepelzaad of spurrey … a schepelzaad of turnip seed… two schepelzaad of rye… carted soil for a day and two carts”. For all that work, ƒ 7.77 was deducted from the rent.
A certain Heuzinkveld manufactured 23 ells of coarse linen cloth for Janna in 1866. She had likely supplied the flax (or yarn). The service was worth ƒ 2.75, so Heuzinkveld still had to pay the remainder of the rent, being ƒ 1.75.
Pastures
As previously noted, a pasture behind the Pol, called Ruiterij, belonged to the assets of the Manschots. Janna also owned 1.14.84 ha of pasture on the Smees, which was (probably) sold in 1870 for ƒ 1390.00. Another pasture measuring 1.82.40 ha was located on Boterdijk in the Goor, which was also sold in 1870. The proceeds from this were considerably less, namely ƒ 600.00. From the estate of her brother Jan, Janna obtained a pasture “on the Broek”, while she also owned pasture and woodland in the Giezenbos.
Turf and peat land
The woodland and peat lands were not leased out. However, the produce from them could be sold privately or by public tender, such as standing timber. This also occurred with peat lands. The field would first be mown, and the top sod containing reed stubble and roots cut away. These were schadden (peat sods), which were dried and used as fuel. Turf (plaggen) was also cut from the heath-covered plots, which often ended up in the deep litter barn or stable and, mixed with animal excrement, was used as manure on the fields.
Janna owned woodland in the Goor, half of which was owned by her sister-in-law Elisabeth, who was married to Muller. Later, following the death of these parents, the half-ownership passed to the five children, the Muller Heirs.
Then mention is made of two pieces of woodland in the Schaarsheide, of woodland on the Kieftsheide, on the Hollenberg, near the Smeesweide (pine forest, coppice, and heath), and “copses in the Barloschen Esch”, peat land in Varsseveld, and peat sod land in ’t Goor, as well as in “Stapelkamps Bosch”, which she had inherited from her late brother Jan and had to share with her brother H.J. Becking.
In the year 1880, Janna sold ƒ 17.90 worth of turf and peat sods. Shortly beforehand, she had “sold wood to the Prange from Lintelo for 260 Guilders” from one of her smallholdings.
The smallholdings
The property of Janna and partners also included a number of smallholdings. The first mentioned is the Neerhof in Dale, of which D.J. Neerhof was the tenant. The tenancy was terminated in 1866 when the farm was sold.
Then there is the Lubbers smallholding in Barlo (Meinenweg), which was initially leased to J.H. Lubbers, but from 1867 to G.J. Mierdink for “sixty guilders and 96 eggs”. In 1877, the farm was sold to the tenant for ƒ 13,370.00.
Next is the Pennings smallholding (Hofstedeweg). Gerrit Jan Pennings is the tenant, who must yield annually for it “the sum of 48 guilders, 8 rent chickens, 96 eggs, and 4 pounds of flax”. In 1872, Pennings “departed for America”, and the farm was leased to Roelof Somsen for “56 guilders and 96 eggs”. Every now and then, Somsen performed services in return by collecting peat sods for Johanna, earning him ƒ 7.65, which was deducted from the rent.
The Slaa in the Heurne was also, together with her brothers, part of Janna’s property. Until 1868, G.J. Huitink was the tenant, followed by Jan de Breukelaar “Who must pay annually 40 Guilders and 60 eggs”. From 1880, the Slaa was leased to Wensink, who had to put down ƒ 48.00 and sixty eggs for it. In those years, Janna also notes: “sold a calf to Wensink for ƒ 5.50”.
Then there is the Slaa Schoppe, which was leased from 1852 to 1867 by J. Weggelaar, and thereafter by Evert Jan Beernink. The rent was ƒ 20.00. In 1874, Beernink scutched flax for Janna, which earned him 75 cents.
When her brother Jan died childless, he left Janna shares in three smallholdings, namely “Brijzak”, leased by farmer Smees, and “De Scheper” on the Haart, which was leased to Hendrik Jan Rensink for ƒ 65.00. This farm was sold in 1890, however. The third smallholding is Bekker on the Haart, which was leased for ƒ 40.00. This farm was also sold and, together with De Scheper, fetched ƒ 12,600.00. Finally, the Grevengoed in Barlo is mentioned, which consisted mainly of arable land. It must have been a large estate, located “next to Zwietink” and “near Wolterink“, thus on the Markerinkdijk.
In conclusion
Finally, a few notes on Janna’s children. Mina married J.G.H. Martens in Eibergen. She was widowed early and later, with those of her children who were still at home, moved back in with her mother on Achterstraat, after recovering over a period of six years from a nervous breakdown brought on by the death of her husband followed by that of her two youngest children.
After her mother’s passing, she moved to a property on the Markt, currently number 12. Louiza married Hendrik Beukenhorst, a goldsmith and silversmith in Winterswijk. At the same time, Betje also entered into marriage, wedding Abraham ten Dam, who later became a comb manufacturer. Her son Jacob suffered a very deep depression, presumably as a result of unrequited love, for which he had to be admitted to an institution in Zutphen for many years. He died unmarried in 1873. His brother Jan became a doctor in Winterswijk and married A.G. Tenkink of “Meenk” in Miste. Daughter Heintje became the wife of her second cousin B.H. Becking, who owned a ham smokery and wholesaled salt. He was consequently known as “Salt-Becking”.
The youngest son, Bernard, managed the Ten Dam & Manschot comb factory alongside his brother-in-law. He had a house built on Bredevoortsestraat, currently number 51. The Ten Dams lived across the street at number 40.
Janna continued to live on Achterstraat until her death and passed away on 22 January 1892. She was 82 years old.
The above is a summary adaptation of a family chronicle, derived in large part from the “Land Lease Book”, compiled by Henk ten Dam in Zwolle, entitled “Johanna Geertruyt Manschot-Beckings Landhuurboek vertelt (1799-1892)”, volumes I and II, 1985, available for consultation in the archives of the municipality of Aalten.
Footnote
This appears to be incorrect. Gerrit Willem’s older brother Hendrik Jan (*1799) did indeed also become a blacksmith, but he died a bachelor in 1839 in the house on Prinsenstraat, which was then number 228 (sources: ecal.nu and wiewaswie.nl). There was, however, another blacksmith named Hendrik Jan Manschot who lived on Kerkstraat, but he was a brother of Jacob and thus an uncle of Gerrit Willem. ↩︎
Kolossale pilaren ondersteunen in Aalten het gewelf van de NH St. Helenakerk, die met zijn gigantische omvang het centrum van het dorp moeiteloos beheerst. Koster A.J. Heusinkveld gaat mij voor naar het koorgedeelte en wijst naar de plafondschilderingen hoog boven hem. Ik zie Maria met het Kind, het hoofd van Christus, engelen, koningen en een voorstelling van de Heilige Geest. Ze sluiten niet op elkaar aan.
Large patches of white interrupt the paintings, which were discovered and exposed around 1900 and, according to Heusinkveld, were applied in 1471. He points upward again: “Look, it may say 1411 there, but do not let that mislead you. The man who painted that was probably drunk at the time and painted a ‘1’ instead of a ‘7’. At least, that is what my predecessor always used to say.”
Old St. Helena Church, Aalten
Last Judgment
At the end of November last year, the centuries-old paintings on the wall of the Consistory were also uncovered and restored. They depict the Last Judgment, and it is quite a sight: angels lead the righteous to Jerusalem, while the wicked among us are taken to purgatory. Some are already sweating there in enormous iron cooking pots.
The church, featuring beautiful chandeliers, is packed with pews. “On Sundays — when we have three services — these are often all occupied,” says the sexton. “There is room for 1,000 people. Indeed, with three Reformed churches, one Roman Catholic church, our Dutch Reformed church, and a synagogue, many believers live in Aalten. Our village is also known as the Jerusalem of the Achterhoek.”“It is sometimes more than full here,” agrees Evert Smilda, chairman of the Aalten Antiquities Society, who is showing me around. “I was once running a bit late and asked the man by the aisle to move over a little. He did so, but with reluctance. ‘We are frugal with shifting,’ he said.”
Calling the sexton
The building, founded in 1100 and later altered in Gothic style, is open for viewing. Anyone who calls the sexton — 05437-72896 — or knocks on his door at Kerkstraat 2, will be assisted. “As long as people do not call me during dinner.” Aalten (11,000 inhabitants) is quite a pleasant village, with a Market square crowded with cars that was the first in Gelderland to be declared a protected village view. The square owes this primarily to the St. Helena Church and two old buildings that now form the town hall, with a rather unexciting piece of new construction next to it.
Old in years is Restaurant Stegers across the street. A centuries-old stone, originally part of the facade, is built into the terrace wall by the sidewalk. A deer can be vaguely seen standing on its hind legs. A word of 26 letters accompanies it. No one knows what it means. “We are facing the mystery of Aalten here,” says Smilda. “We do know, however, that such a standing deer was a symbol for the administration of justice. Well, justice may have been administered here in the inn in the past.” We continue through the village (a true regional center) with several old buildings such as Huize Ahof and the beautiful 19th-century mansion (now a guesthouse) Beekhuize.
The 18th-century Freriksschure behind the Frerikshuus museum is one of the few preserved farmhouses in the center of Aalten. Those who walk past it will soon find themselves on the car-plagued Market square, with the impressive Dutch Reformed St. Helena Church. (Photo Peter Drent bv)
Frerikshuus
Finally, we arrive at the fascinating Frerikshuus museum on the Market square, which is filled with everyday objects: costumes, silverware, porcelain, and much more. One room is entirely dedicated to the horn industry, which occupied a unique position here for a century until the 1970s. Beautiful pipes, combs, and whatever else could be made from buffalo horns can be seen there.
In the large barn behind the beautiful house, various crafts are depicted, such as wheel-making. The museum is currently open on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 2:00 PM to 5:00 PM. From March 31 to May 12, there is a special exhibition about the occupation and the liberation. Many people in hiding successfully sought refuge here in Aalten during World War II.
The village lies within the eternal charm of the Gelderse Achterhoek, with plenty of woods, thickets, enclosed fields and meadows, and quiet lanes.
Bredevoort
Two kilometers from Aalten lies the thousand times more beautiful town of Bredevoort, with its tower mill beckoning from afar, its ancient St. George’s Church, its quiet streets, its endearing old buildings, and its sense of nostalgia. At the last moment, I renew my acquaintance with baker Ben Helmink, the chairman of the local tourist office (VVV), who tells me that restoration work is still ongoing. “Huize St. Bernardus”, he says, “that large building from 1764 on our square ‘t Zand, has just been completed. You won’t believe your eyes. It is truly beautiful now. And so dignified! Bredevoort becomes more beautiful every year. That is it.”
BREDEVOORT – If you do not know him, it would never cross your mind for a single moment that this man’s profession might be that of a bank manager. Bank managers are generally expected to walk around with permanent pound signs in their eyes, but Jan Elferink certainly does not fit that mould. He is witty, always up for a laugh, a fast talker, and never caught off guard. Yet the residents of Bredevoort who deal with Jan Elferink on a business level know that beneath this jovial friendliness lies a sharp businessman—a man who truly knows what he is talking about when it comes to financial matters.
Jan Elferink: “Here, you are engaged both financially and socially”
He certainly learned that over the course of his 42-year banking career. This year, Jan is stepping down. As of 1 September, after he has shown his successor, G.W. te Brinke, the ropes, he will take early retirement. “I am 60 now, and the years beyond sixty are precious. That is why I am bowing out. I still have plenty to keep me occupied. I’ve already told my wife: if I do the work during the day that I currently do in the evenings, I will at least have a few evenings a week to myself,” Elferink says, explaining his departure.
It was 42 years ago when, at the age of 18, he started at the Raiffeisenbank in Lichtenvoorde. “I had always wanted to do that. But when I finished secondary school (ulo) in 1943, my father told me I had to help out in his painting business. Both of my brothers had been conscripted for forced labour in Germany, so I had no choice.”
However, the war was barely over when Jan saw his chance. The post-war monetary reform meant that banks had to take on extra staff. On 1 October 1945, he was hired, and exactly a year later, he transferred to the bank in Bredevoort. “When I first arrived here, I thought: I’ll gain a few years of experience and then move on to another town. But it never came to that. We feel very much at home here in Bredevoort. Happily, we were fully accepted into the community.”
For twelve years, Jan cycled back and forth between Lichtenvoorde and Bredevoort every day, until he married in 1958 and became a true Bredevoorter. You can certainly call him that when you see how deeply integrated he has become in the Bredevoort community.
A hardheaded business
In 1963, Jan was appointed manager of the bank in Bredevoort. “Banking is a hardheaded money business. That really consumes your time. Perhaps that is why, as a counterweight, I took on all those pleasant and social activities outside of my work.”
When Jan begins to list the activities he is or has been involved in, he takes quite some time. The local folk festival, the gondola pageant, the ice rink, board member of the school association, board member of St Bernardus, and so the list goes on. And that is leaving aside all the “ad hoc things” he occupies himself with, such as conducting charity auctions, organising carnival gatherings for the Zonnebloem charity, acting as a compere for the traditional brass band in Lichtenvoorde, and performing as a buutreedner (comic orator) during the carnival season.
“I wanted to call it a day when my partner, Bonekamp from Lichtenvoorde, stopped. But so many requests came in from all sides that I still write a new comic monologue every year. All of that keeps you going. From a young age, I’ve loved being a bit of a rebel. That was already the case at school, and later at the amateur dramatics society, which I joined when I was only fourteen.” His penchant for fun is also well known among his fellow bank managers, who know him affectionately as “Enerink from Smallevoort”.
Elferink makes no secret of the fact that the work of a bank manager in a small community like Bredevoort is rather different from that in a large city. “Here, you are not just engaged financially, but socially too.” Elferink has seen the banking world change dramatically in over forty years: from a small room with a single desk and a safe where savings books were updated by hand, to an exceptionally modern, automated office building where the entire money trade takes place, but where holidays, insurance, and securities are sold as well.
G. te Brinke now manager
BREDEVOORT – As of 1 July, G.W. te Brinke from Lochem will join the Rabobank in Bredevoort as its new manager. Te Brinke was born and raised in Zelhem and is 41 years old. He began his banking career in Doetinchem in 1966 and has been working in Lochem since 1977.
Thanks to the research activities of the Aalten historian E.M. Smilda, many historical details regarding mail delivery in the municipality of Aalten have come to light. A look back at the history of the postal system reveals that in the early 19th century, couriers and messengers were responsible for delivering letters and messages for both the government and private individuals.
At the exact location where the then-new post office opened on the Peperstraat in 1986, Hendrik Jan te Gantvoort and Garret Jan Hoopman started a “mail coach service” to Zutphen in 1812.
Cart driver
The ‘old’ post office on the Haartsestraat
It is known that in 1742, a certain Hendrik Hoopman was a “cart driver” and drove to Zutphen twice a week. At that time, Hoopman also lived in the Peperstraat, a location that has played an important role in the local postal system throughout the centuries. In 1784, there is mention of a “mail coach” that traveled via Zutphen to Aalten, Bocholt, and Borken twice a week. On two other days, the route was traveled in reverse. Letters were carried for a stuiver and delivered to “Roelof Arentzen in De Klok.”
The aforementioned Te Gantvoort drove his mail coach via Zelhem and Hengelo to Zutphen. In 1827, Jilles van Buul was the first “distributor of letter mail” appointed by the municipal council. In 1832, the council appointed Jan Berend Lohuis as the first messenger. He handled the mail to Groenlo. Gerrit Schotman was his successor in 1843. Gerrit Jan te Tuunte was tasked with the mail route to Winterswijk.
With the introduction of the Postal Act in 1850, the municipality’s involvement with the postal system ceased. Schotman lost his job, and Te Gantvoort emigrated to America with his family in 1854, at the age of 60.
Frequent moves
The ‘new’ post office on the Peperstraat
The Aalten postal service would move numerous times. For instance, operations were conducted from a shed in the Dijkstraat, from the Landstraat (later Ebbers shoe store), the corner of Kerkstraat-Peperstraat (later fashion house De Postiljon), and from 1922 in the former mayor’s residence, the so-called Tackshuis, on the Haartsestraat. On June 26, 1986, the postal services exchanged that location for a new building on the Peperstraat.
Approximately 20 years later, the post office in Aalten was closed. Since then, the residents of Aalten have been able to visit the Primera on the Bredevoortsestraatweg for their postal matters.
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