In 1937, G.H. Rots described in a series of articles how things were done in Aalten in former times. Regarding the ‘night watch’ and the constables (veldwachters) in Aalten, he wrote the following:
“When the population of Aalten had found rest in the arms of Morpheus, they were watched over at night. The night watchman made his rounds and, accompanied by his faithful dog and with a thick rattan cane in hand, patrolled Aalten’s streets. He also served as a ‘knocker-up’; that is, if certain people needed to be woken early, he was the man who ensured it happened.
For many years, the night watchman carried a rattle, and every time the tower clock was heard, the rattle was spun and the night watchman called out the hour that had struck. For example, at twelve o’clock, he would cry: ‘The clock has twelve, twelve has the clock!’. It was eventually realised that such customs were not conducive to the residents’ night’s rest, and the practice was subsequently abolished.
Voor controle waren op enkele punten van ’t dorp controleklokjes bevestigd waarvan de werking zoodanig was dat de overheid kon constateeren of de nachtwachts hun plicht hadden gedaan. In woelige tijden of wanneer de overheid het noodig achtte, werd de nachtwacht versterkt door een ‘wacht’. Elk rot (= wijk/buurt) moest een manschap leveren en moest de wacht worden betrokken. De ‘wacht’ was in het gebouw waar nu de kapperszaak van den heer ter Maat is.
The permanent night watchman thus had the assistance of these men, and they accompanied him on patrol. When it was pitch black, it sometimes happened that such a greenhorn assistant-watchman lost his way and ended up in a refuse heap or a manure pit. It is well known that this circuit through the village—the rattling aside—was not entirely silent, and one could hear the night watchman approaching from afar. For thieves and other ruffians, this was the signal to take to their heels or go into hiding.”
Sinds 1 januari 1915 behoort de nachtwaker in Aalten tot het verleden. Eén van de laatste nachtwakers in Aalten was Jan te Slaa, bekender als dorpsomroeper ‘Jan met de Panne‘.
spine-chilling stories
“De oude nachtwachts konden griezelige verhalen doen van wat ze ’s nachts al zoo beleefd hadden. De hoorder van deze verhalen trok ‘de groezel ovver de hoed’. Zoo wist men te vertellen dat ‘achter de heggen in het Heuksken’ elken nacht een in ’t wit gekleede vrouw rondzwierf. En dan dat geheimzinnige licht in het knekelhuisje op het kerkhof. Ook ontmoette men soms geheimzinnige dieren, die Aalten’s straten onveilig maakten. En dan de ‘veurspooksels’ van brand. Als er brand kwam in ‘t dorp had soms een der nachtwachts weken te voren al een ‘roode gloed’ boven de plek van den brand gezien. En dat gebeurde nog wel eens want op het gebied van branden had Aalten een zekere ‘bekendheid’. Het is wel is gebeurd dat er drie dagen achtereen brand uitbrak. Den ‘rooden gloed’ zal dan nog wel eens gezien zijn.
The belief in witches and ghosts had not entirely vanished in the last century, so these ghost stories were often believed. According to folk belief, witches held meetings at night, and in the Aalter Esch, there was a spot used as a nocturnal witch’s dwelling. That piece of land, situated roughly halfway between the Linde and the Lichtenvoordscheweg, was called the ‘heksenbeddestëe’ (witches’ bedstead). It was a patch of no man’s land that no one claimed. The night watchmen were not afraid of any of this, and through their heroic stance against these mysterious things, they commanded great respect from the population. Undeniably, quite apart from the above, the night watchman performed good service, and many viewed the abolition of the night watch with regret.”
Constables
“En dan de politiebewaking. Als Rijks-Veldwachter was bekend Jan Steven Schaars Prins. Het noemen van zijn naam was al voldoende om de schrik er in te krijgen. De jeugd kroop in haar schulp als zijn naam genoemd werd en de ondeugende rakkers kon men er mee naar bed krijgen. Maar ook voor grooteren was Schaars Prins iemand voor wien men ontzag had. Zijn verschijning alleen al werkte mee om de orde te herstellen en als hij aanpakte dan was de orde direct hersteld.
A formidable man, then, who certainly faced his share of trouble. Often he set out alone to fine dangerous poachers, but he also showed his strength against more serious criminals. The arrest of two escaped German murderers in 1875 earned him an honourable distinction from the German government.
On one occasion, he is said to have been overpowered by superior force; poachers in the Aalter Goor tied him to a tree, and he was only freed a few hours later by a passer-by.
In the middle of the last century, Jan te Hoonte and Constable Beernink were known as the municipal police. They were appointed at a salary of 145 guilders a year. Not too many official reports (proces-verbalen) were drawn up, for if a case had to be heard at the court in Zutphen, they had to make the journey to Zutphen on foot as witnesses. Fining a poacher, however, was another matter, as it yielded an extra reward, which was quite welcome alongside the aforementioned salary.
The constable went to the town hall in the morning to ask if there was ‘anything special’ to report. Sometimes it was a message for a local resident, but usually, the Mayor had nothing on the agenda, and the constable would go to tend his farm; if something significant happened, one could find the constable out in the fields.”
