During World War II, host families in Aalten provided shelter to approximately 800 children from heavily bombed Rotterdam. The initiative was spearheaded by Rev. Th. Delleman, a minister in Kralingen who had recently served in Aalten. Thanks to his dedication and the networks of both church communities, Rotterdam children were able to find temporary respite in the Achterhoek – far removed from the violence of war.
Rotterdam after the German bombardment of 14 May 1940
In May 1940, Rotterdam was struck by a devastating German bombardment. Almost the entire historical city centre was destroyed. In the Kralingen district, Reverend Thomas Delleman witnessed the consequences first-hand. He saw how, above all, the children were scarred by fear and grief.
Rev. Th. (Thomas) Delleman (1898–1977)
Amidst this chaos, Delleman decided to take action. He knew the Achterhoek well: from 1930 to 1938, he had been a minister in Aalten, where he had experienced the hospitality of the local people. He believed that a temporary stay in the peaceful surroundings of Aalten would benefit the children – a place where silence and care could help them forget the war for a moment.
A committee was soon formed with the support of deacons and congregation members from both Rotterdam and Aalten. In July 1940, the first groups of children departed for the Achterhoek, where they were placed with host families.
Over the course of the war, an estimated 800 children from Rotterdam were cared for in Aalten and the surrounding area. Upon their departure for home, they often took gifts with them: eggs, bacon, rye bread, and sometimes even live animals. Later, the visits were supported by local diaconates. The last group of children travelled back to Rotterdam in February 1945. However, the connection remained: many children continued to return to their Achterhoek host families annually long after the war had ended.
A Wartime Letter
One of the children who came to Aalten thanks to Rev. Delleman was Anneke Hijmans. She stayed with the Aalbers family at ‘t Slat farm in IJzerlo. After her stay, she cycled back to Rotterdam in a single week. Shortly thereafter, on 26 January 1945, she wrote a letter to her host family — a personal document filled with memory and gratitude.
Letter from Anneke Hijmans to the Aalbers family in IJzerlo:
Letter from Anneke Hijmans to the Aalbers family in IJzerlo (image courtesy of Bea ter Maat-Aalbers)
Commemorative Window as Thanks
After the war, a committee was formed in the Reformed Church of Kralingen to present a commemorative window to the citizenry of Aalten on behalf of the collective churches and the Jewish community. It was a lasting gift in gratitude for the hospitality offered during the war years.
The window, designed by artist Marius Richters, depicts among other scenes how Aalten farmers and families welcomed children from Rotterdam. It was installed in the Oosterkerk in Aalten and officially unveiled on 13 July 1946 by Rev. Delleman himself.
Commemorative Window in the Oosterkerk, Aalten
Newspaper reports
‘Rotterdammertjes’ in Aalten
“Thanks to the benevolent hospitality of the Aalten Community, we were enabled to send approximately 100 children, largely from afflicted Rotterdam, to Aalten,” stated Mr B. Hoving in the Rotterdamsche Kerkbode. These children are now enjoying the peaceful rest and excellent care that Aalten offers them, far away from their devastated city.
Rotterdamsch Nieuwsblad, 17 August 1940
The ‘Rotterdammertjes’ Depart
Six weeks ago, we published a photograph of the arrival of the first ‘Rotterdammertjes’. This morning, the departure took place. At ‘Elim‘, the Reformed children bid their farewells. Each child was presented with a lovely souvenir of this holiday: a fountain pen and pencil in a case, kindly provided by Mr F. Buesink, ‘Febea’.
It was a scene of cheerful bustle. The children appeared in ‘full regalia’—which, in this context, meant with an average of three times as much luggage as they had arrived with. Naturally, there were all sorts of boxes, parcels, and bags filled with apples and pears (how fortunate that they are all ripe just now), as well as bouquets of various flowers, which, together with bunches of heather, are intended to provide a hearty welcome home. One child was so fortunate as to have stayed with a friendly baker, with the result that the little one was sent home with a currant loaf almost as large as the ‘Rotterdammertje’ itself!
There was an unprecedented crowd at the station; it was estimated that over 500 people were present. Rev. Th. Delleman spoke a brief word of thanks on behalf of all groups. He had not dared to hope that Aalten would have been so hospitable. “Rotterdam has been impoverished in many things, but your love has made us rich. Never shall Rotterdam forget the benevolence shown to her children.”
De Graafschapper, 30 August 1940
‘Rotterdammertjes’ return after a four-week holiday in Aalten
Loud cheering erupted from the special train that brought 128 children from afflicted Rotterdam families back to the ‘Maas City’ on Friday afternoon around four o’clock. The waving and shouting children would have liked nothing more than to jump straight out of the train windows to greet their mothers, brothers, and sisters, and to tell them all about their time in the Gelderland Achterhoek, in the friendly village of Aalten.
No sooner had they spotted one another than the children began to show what they had received from their foster parents. Almost all of them carried a box of flowers and gifts; one had received a rabbit, another a chicken, and one ‘Rotterdammertje’ had even been treated to a currant loaf… a metre long! Furthermore, everyone had received a fountain pen and a propelling pencil as a memento of their stay in Aalten.
The citizenry of Aalten has certainly spoilt the ‘Rotterdammertjes’. People had spontaneously approached the Diaconate of the Dutch Reformed Church with the request to send children from affected families, to provide them with a carefree month-long holiday. During this long holiday, thanks to the minister, Rev. Klijn, and the headteacher, Mr Hopman, the children visited numerous beautiful spots in the Achterhoek, while film afternoons also provided the necessary variety.
It goes without saying that the children thoroughly enjoyed themselves in Aalten. The acquaintance seems to have been mutually appreciated, as many Aalten foster parents invited the children to spend their holiday with them again next year upon their departure.
In the local Sociëteit (Social Club) last Saturday afternoon, an exhibition was opened by the Netherlands Association for Air Raid Protection (Nederl. Vereen. voor Luchtbescherming), to which the municipal executive, military officers, heads of various departments, and the boards of several associations had been invited.
The chairman of the Aalten branch, Mr Klaassen, extended a warm welcome to those present and expressed his sincere gratitude to the Mayor and Aldermen, the head of the Air Raid Protection Service, the board of the Sociëteit, and others for their cooperation in making this exhibition a success. The speaker announced that the Mayor was prevented from opening the exhibition due to a minor indisposition, and that Alderman Te Gussinklo had kindly agreed to deliver the opening address.
Mr Te Gussinklo began by apologising for the fact that he actually knew very little about air raid protection. He regretted that no better term had been found in the Netherlands, for “we do not protect the air, but rather protect the people from the dangers that come from the sky during a war via aircraft with their destructive bombs that bring death and ruin.” He questioned whether the population of Aalten, and of the Netherlands, was sufficiently aware of its duty in this regard. The answer, he stated, must be: no, the majority certainly are not. Therefore, it is very useful and very necessary that the Aalten branch has organised this exhibition.
It is often said that the army must be brought to the people, but the speaker also wished to posit that air raid protection must be brought to the people. It is highly necessary that the Dutch public knows more about this. For this reason, the Aalten municipal executive has strongly applauded this visual instruction. The speaker expressed his hope that this free exhibition would attract many visitors. Now that the war has continued for some time, interest has somewhat waned and might otherwise slumber further. However, when we consider that between 1,000 and 2,000 bombs are being dropped daily on a country in Northern Europe, we must wholeheartedly agree that this information is not unnecessary. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.
The speaker congratulated the board on the magnificent way this exhibition was arranged and therewith declared the exhibition open. After tea was served, a tour was conducted under the guidance of one of the gentlemen from the board of the Netherlands Association for Air Raid Protection.
De Graafschapper, 28 March 1941
Everything was clearly explained, and the numerous visual representations—both in pictures and in reality—of air hazards, their effects, and the measures taken against them, will certainly clarify much for all visitors that might not have been fully understood simply by reading booklets. Posters show us the varying population densities of different countries, the effects of high-explosive, incendiary, and gas bombs, the measures taken by the authorities and those that can be taken by citizens, etc. etc.
We see various gas masks, lanterns, a model of a cluttered attic compared to an attic as it ought to be, a model air-raid shelter, etc. etc. The clear explanations were listened to with great interest. It is to be hoped that this exhibition, which remains open until Tuesday and is entirely free to the public, will be well attended.
In 1937, G.H. Rots described in a series of articles in the Aaltensche Courant how life used to be in Aalten in former times. Regarding the historical belief in witches, he wrote:
“According to popular belief, witches held gatherings at night, and in the Aalter Esch there was a specific spot where these nocturnal assemblies took place. That piece of land, located approximately halfway between the Linde and the Lichtenvoordsche road, was called the ‘heksenbeddestêe’. It was a piece of no man’s land to which no one laid claim.”
Anyone reading about what transpired in this field is stunned by the stories of witches and ghosts that circulated in earlier times. It reached such an extent that even educated people believed in witchcraft, and the authorities of those days intervened in this ‘evil,’ punishing those found guilty of sorcery.
To determine whether an accused person was innocent or guilty, the so-called water trial was applied: the victim was thrown into the water. If they floated, they were deemed a witch; if they sank, then what? Then they were not a witch, but they usually drowned. It was believed that those who could perform witchcraft could transform themselves into animals. Illnesses among livestock or even among people were often attributed to witches. If the milk had a blue tint, or if a clump of hair was found in a calf’s or cow’s stomach, it was all blamed on the witches.
There were even people who believed themselves capable of witchcraft, claiming they had regular audiences with the devil. Witches were said to ride through the air on broomsticks and gather at the ‘beddestae’ in the Aaltenschen Esch to celebrate their nightly festivals. It should be said to the credit of the spiritual leaders of those days that they, at least, did not believe in it and repeatedly pointed out the absurdity of witchcraft to the population.
However, what is once deeply rooted is not easily dislodged, and so it took years, even centuries, before the superstition vanished. The authorities, primarily at the urging of the clergy, engaged in the suppression of witchcraft. They employed methods that were terrifying. If it was believed that someone could perform witchcraft or claimed to do so, the most severe measures were taken. Often the victims paid with their lives; even stakes were erected for burning.
Shivers down the spine
The old night watchmen could tell eerie stories of what they had experienced at night. The listener of these tales would feel ‘the shivers down their spine.’ For instance, it was told that ‘behind the hedges in the Heuksken,’ a woman dressed in white wandered every night. And then there was that mysterious light in the charnel house at the cemetery. Occasionally, mysterious animals were encountered that made the streets of Aalten unsafe. Furthermore, there were the ‘omens’ of fire. If a fire broke out in the village, one of the night watchmen had sometimes seen a ‘red glow’ above the site of the fire weeks in advance.
Berent Sweenen
Around 1600, a certain Berent Sweenen lived in Barlo. His neighbor, Geerdt Luiten, accused him of witchcraft. Luiten’s cows, pigs, and horses had regularly died of ‘unnatural sickness’ or sorcery. In the stomach of one of the cows he had cut open, ‘toads and snakes’ were found. Furthermore, Berent Sweenen’s sister ‘was also a witch.’ The whole place was hexed, and Luiten had already gone to Lichtenvoorde to complain. Berent Sweenen was summoned before the authorities and had to listen to all these accusations.
Luiten brought forward a new accusation. It was no longer possible to churn butter in his house. The cause: a hex by Sweenen. Another neighbor, Bernt Tolkamp, recounted that he had drunk buttermilk at Sweenen’s and had become ‘dreadfully ill’ from it. Tolkamp’s daughter had also fallen ill, likewise hexed by Sweenen.
More witnesses were called, namely Geerdt Winkelhorstink and Johan Merkerdink. They could only state that Sweenen had long been regarded as a sorcerer. Personally, however, they had not been troubled by him. A certain Herman Olthuys provided further incriminating testimony. Other neighbors recounted that they had hosted Berent Sweenen, who was a tailor, in their homes and that he had told them he could perform witchcraft. Eleven witnesses then took the oath and declared, invoking ‘God and His Holy Gospel,’ that what they had asserted was the truth.
Berent Sweenen, the simple tailor, maintained his innocence, but he stood alone. Eventually, under the weight of all those accusations, he gave in and said that he had understood the art of witchcraft for some 18 to 20 years. His fate was sealed, and given the punishments of those days, his head likely fell under the executioner’s axe. One case among many.
People pondered much. During the long winter evenings by primitive lighting, they saw all sorts of strange things. They heard wondrous tales, and when the old man sat in the corner by the hearth, he was asked to tell stories; then the tales of ghosts and witches would emerge, and at night in their sleep, people heard all kinds of sounds. The mystery of the unknown. That unknown, that mysteriousness, unsettled the people, and the case of Sweenen in Barlo is not unique.
Fourteen years earlier, the Bailiff of Bredevoort had already written to the Lady of the Pledge that witchcraft in Aalten was taking on ever greater proportions. One can conclude from this that the governing officials—the intellectuals of those days—also believed that witches existed. The fight against the ‘evil’ was therefore not conducted by convincing people that ‘witches’ cannot exist, but by the extermination of the individuals who carried out the evil.”
Aleida Voesters
“We wish to share one more case to provide an accurate picture of the dismal conditions in those days. It concerns a woman named Aleida Voesters. She was accused of witchcraft and thrown into prison, but was released when she promised to reform and paid a monetary fine. However, once the population views someone in a negative light, their reputation is ruined.
So it was for this woman. The population would not leave her in peace. The cup overflowed when a certain Wessel Wassink, a tailor by trade, claimed that he had fled from Mrs. Voesters’ house because he had heard devils quarreling there. The rumor reached the authorities again, and they deliberated on how to deal with this woman. The ‘executioner’ told the Bailiff that he knew a way to intervene with forceful measures. The woman was imprisoned again and transported to Bredevoort. She was thrown into the water and… she floated; she did not sink. Proof that she could perform witchcraft. They pushed her down with a long pole, but it seems that the excessive women’s clothing of those days prevented her from sinking.
The woman was then tortured with extreme cruelty. She was to be made an example. She was tied to a ladder and flogged, but the woman maintained that she could not perform witchcraft. Two days later, she was stretched on the rack again. But she did not confess. They tied a rope to her hands and hung her from a beam. At that moment, the pitiable woman let out a sound as if three men’s voices had called out. Immediately thereafter, her neck was broken. Her body was burned on a stake, made of wood that the farmers were expressly required to supply for that purpose. Such were the witch trials.”
Milk Witch
In a legal document from the Court of Bredevoort dating from 1533, we find the following story: The couple Gert and Lise Stapelkamp have a church pew in the Saint Helen’s Church in Aalten, which they claim was originally purchased by Gert’s mother, Sine Stapelkamp. However, the couple Koep and Nale Heinen claim it is their pew. During the service, Nale called Lise a ‘molkentoversche‘ (a witch who hexes cows) three times, after which Lise struck back. A significant disturbance in the church!
Sources
‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 26 November 1937 (Delpher)
‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 11 March 1938 (Delpher)
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.
For monitoring purposes, check-clocks were mounted at several points in the village, designed so that the authorities could verify whether the night watchmen had performed their duty. In turbulent times, or whenever the authorities deemed it necessary, the night watchman was reinforced by a ‘watch’. Each rot (ward) had to provide one man to stand guard. The ‘watch’ was stationed in the building where Mr ter Maat’s barbershop is now located.
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.”
Since 1 January 1915, the night watchman in Aalten has been a thing of the past. One of the last night watchmen in Aalten was Jan te Slaa, better known as the town crier ‘Jan met de Panne’.
spine-chilling stories
“The old night watchmen could tell spine-chilling stories of what they had experienced at night. Hearing these tales made one’s skin crawl. For instance, it was said that ‘behind the hedges in the Heuksken’, a woman dressed in white wandered every night. And then there was that mysterious light in the charnel house at the churchyard. Sometimes, mysterious animals were encountered that made Aalten’s streets unsafe. Then there were the ‘premonitions’ of fire. If a fire broke out in the village, one of the night watchmen had sometimes seen a ‘red glow’ above the site weeks in advance. This happened quite often, as Aalten had a certain ‘reputation’ when it came to fires. There were occasions when fires broke out three days in a row. The ‘red glow’ must have been seen quite frequently then.
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
“And then there was the police surveillance. Jan Steven Schaars Prins was well known as a State Constable (Rijks-Veldwachter). Merely mentioning his name was enough to strike fear into people. The youth would retreat into their shells at the sound of his name, and naughty rascals could be sent to bed with it. But Schaars Prins was also someone held in awe by adults. His mere appearance helped to restore order, and when he took action, order was immediately reinstated.
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.
Jan Steven Schaars Prins (1817–1893)
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.”
Sources
‘From Aalten’s past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 26 November 1937 (Delpher)
In large parts of the country, Carnival is celebrated seven weeks before Easter.In Aalten, this is not so much the case. Carnival is traditionally a Catholic festival, and Aalten has remained predominantly Protestant since the Reformation. Nevertheless, Carnival was also celebrated in Aalten in the past.
Carnival is originally a Christianized pagan folk festival traditionally celebrated only by Catholics. In parts of Gelderland, Carnival is celebrated exuberantly every year, while in many other parts it is not celebrated at all. These regional cultural differences often date back to the Reformation and the Eighty Years’ War (1568-1648). During this conflict, regions emerged that quickly aligned with the Protestant rebels. Other regions held on to the Catholic faith of the legitimate sovereign and Duke of Guelders for a long time.
For instance, the Lordship of Bredevoort was conquered in 1597 by the Calvinist Maurice of Nassau. He subsequently made the entire region from Aalten to Winterswijk Protestant. His half-brother Frederick Henry did not definitively conquer Groenlo from the Catholic sovereign until 1627. In the preceding years, the Catholic faith was able to take deeper root in the society of Groenlo and its surroundings thanks to the Counter-Reformation.
Carnival in Aalten
Nevertheless, Carnival was also celebrated in Aalten in the past. In 1937, G.H. Rots described in a series of articles how things were done in Aalten in earlier times. For example, he dedicated a section to ‘vastenoavond’, or Carnival:
“If we look at the cheerful things again, the first thing people in the village concerned themselves with was ‘vastenoavond’. However, compared to the Carnival festivities in southern parts of the country, it was very modest here. There was music in a few cafés, and a few people also appeared on the streets in jester costumes. Characteristic, however, was the custom of the youth walking around with a so-called ‘foekepot’. This was a tin canister over which a dried piece of pig’s bladder was stretched. In the middle was a small hole, into which a small wooden stick fitted. By pushing this stick up and down, a humming sound was produced, and so on Shrove Tuesday one could hear the dull sound of foeke-foeke-foeke. They sang the following song with it:
Rummie-pottery, rummie-pottery, give me a penny and I’ll go by. I’ve no money to buy bread, I’ve walked so long with the rummie-pot. Rummie-pottery, rummie-pottery, give me a penny and I’ll go by.
The penny was usually given, and the ‘Shrove Tuesday fools’ did good business.”
Aalten even had three Carnival associations: De Slinge-raars, Spuit Elf, and De Olde Mölle.
Carnival society ‘De Olde Mölle’ (The Old Mill), Aalten – Carnival prince Jan, his adjutant and the Council of Eleven.
Nowadays, Carnival in Aalten is only celebrated by the children of the St. Jozefschool, the only remaining Catholic primary school in the village. Other residents of Aalten who wish to celebrate Carnival are forced to go to places such as Groenlo (Grolle), ‘s-Heerenberg (Waskuupstad), or Doetinchem (Leutekum).
Newspaper reports
De Maasbode, 5 February 1913Carnival Mater Amabilis School, Aalten – Dagblad Tubantia, 30 January 1961Dagblad Tubantia, 24 February 1965Dagblad Tubantia, 9 April 1965
Dagblad Tubantia, 12 November 1965Dagblad Tubantia, 18 February 1966
In 1937, G.H. Rots described how life used to be in Aalten in a series of articles. Among other topics, he devoted a section to the traditional farming life of the past.
“The rural districts of Aalten formed an inseparable whole with the village. The villagers needed the farmer, and conversely, the farmers of the rural districts sought contact with the villagers. The roads were far from good, and due to the narrow wheel rims, the sandy paths had much to endure. Water drainage was poorly regulated, and maintenance left much to be desired. And yet those roads had to be used at the cost of much horse and ox flesh. For most farmers formerly kept oxen, which were used as draft animals for the wagons and carts. Progress was made at a slow pace: if I do not arrive today, then tomorrow; slow but steady, for the ox was a strong draft animal. After serving as a draft animal for several years, it was led to the slaughterhouse.”
Primitive
“The entire farming operation was, of course, primitive; there was no chemical fertilizer, resulting in much lower soil yields. Group stables were unknown, and chicken coops did not exist ‘on the farm.’ The chickens spent the nights with the cows in the stable. Some poles had been installed there, and the entire flock of poultry would trot up the ‘chicken rack’ in the evening. And when the days were short, they hardly ever came down. Egg production occurred only in the summer, and even then not in great quantities. The cattle also did not look as flourishing as they do today. One had to feed what one’s own soil produced. Everything was ‘pro rata,’ in proportion, but much less and less productive than nowadays.”
Butter factories did not exist; the milk was soured in cream pots and churned by hand. On some farms, that chore was performed by a dog. The churning dog had to walk in a large wheel, which set it in motion, and via an axle connection, it moved the churning mechanism. The kneaded butter was shaped into ‘welters,’ and then the housewife would take it to the market. In Aalten, the butter market was behind the Town Hall. However, this market did not enjoy a flourishing period, as the shopkeeper was also a willing buyer. With a closed purse, one could then buy groceries, and large suppliers received cash in addition. The eggs also brought in some money, but as mentioned, production was not that large.”
Botermarkt (Buttermarket) – De Graafschapbode, 21 July 1888
‘Koojonges’
“Many small farmers went to work for daily wages, and some also had a weaving room where a bit was earned. Everything, of course, had to be performed by manual labor; machines were unknown. Every farmer (who was not a day laborer) therefore had at least one head farmhand and a ‘cow boy.’ And those ‘cow boys’ usually came from the village.”
It was the custom that boys from working-class families, before learning a trade or craft, first went to ‘the farmer’ for a few years. Working-class families in the village were usually quite blessed with children, and when a boy was 10 or 11 years old, he had to go to ‘the farmer’ for ‘room and board.’ It was then said: “then he will learn decency immediately.” In any case, the boys learned the first principles of the farming business, which served them well in later life.
For full-fledged farmhands and maidservants, the wages were also not very high. Thirty or fifty guilders per year, but they would occasionally receive clothing as well. A few shirts, a few ‘brunten’ (a type of apron), wooden shoes, and some other necessities. That was the entire wage of the maidservant. In the spring they had a holiday, the so-called ‘spinning week.’ Then they would spend a week at home with their mother. The wages of the farmhands were slightly higher, but still very low by modern standards. And do not count on having much free time or short days. We already mentioned that the threshing flail had to be taken up as early as four o’clock in the morning.”
Nutrition
“For their own nutrition, more was enjoyed from the farm than is the case today. In the first place, everyone grew a quantity of buckwheat. Buckwheat flour was suitable for pancakes. And invariably, pancakes were baked every morning, usually with a ‘slice of bacon’ in them. The cooking oil was also a product of their own cultivation. The rapeseed was taken to the oil miller, and a few large jars of rapeseed oil and a number of rapeseed cakes were collected again a few weeks later. The cakes were excellent cattle feed, a treat for freshly calved cows.”
The food was otherwise as simple as possible, yet nutritious. Home-baked bread, for many farmers had their own baking oven and baked their own bread. The only delicacy was ‘rice porridge with brown sugar,’ usually a meal for Sunday evenings or when visitors came. A large bowl full of ‘rice porridge’ was placed in the middle of the table. Every person sitting at the table received a spoon, and then the eating began. Decency required that one dip the spoon shallowly into the firm porridge, so as not to give the impression that one was after the tastiest top layer with brown sugar. If someone was nevertheless so bold, people would soon think: “He is also mowing the sods.” Eating eggs was done only on Easter Sunday. Then sometimes more were consumed than was good for the stomach.”
“When the harvest was in and the potatoes were dug, there was reason for joy; then a domestic party was arranged and they had ‘stubble-end.’ This party was limited to the household members and workers who had assisted with the harvest. That the farming industry had to contend with economic difficulties is evident from the fact that many families sold their farms and sought a new existence in the New World in America. With a few exceptions, none have returned, and they have achieved greater prosperity in their new fatherland.”
Land prices were low here, and especially wild land was not expensive. For a hundred guilders per hectare, one could already buy wild land, for there were plenty of forests and heathlands, and where there are now lush meadows and excellent farmland, there were formerly vast forests, heathlands, and wild land. The rural district of Haart in particular was very heavily forested.”
When chemical fertilizer made its entry into the farming business, a turn for the better occurred. Wild lands were reclaimed, forests were cleared, water drainage was better regulated, and numerous workers found employment in the reclamation and cultivation of wild lands. The livestock population increased, the quality of the cattle improved, agricultural courses gave tips and instructions for effective fertilization, and one new farm after another was built. Old-fashioned stables were changed, and nowadays the building style of a farm is quite different from before.”
The crops were formerly all stored indoors, ‘on the beams’ and ‘on the loft,’ while now ‘stack heaps’ can be seen everywhere, sheltering the harvest. Among the villagers, too, there was a change in economic and social relations, and agriculture was practiced less. Manure piles had to be cleared away, modern industry arrived, and gradually conditions became more modern.”
Moving house
“On the rare occasion that a farmer moved, this took place on ‘Saint Peter’s Day,’ February 22nd. All belongings were loaded onto the neighbors’ wagons, and the entire procession moved from the old house to the new or different farmstead. The neighbor women had already gone ahead to the new home, had cleaned it, and had lit the fire. In the local dialect, this was called ‘vuur beün’ (preparing the fire).”
When the new residents arrived, the coffee was already brewed, and the newcomers could immediately refresh themselves with a nice cup of coffee. The neighbors helped that day; one dropped something here, another there; it was a colossal bustle. As a crowning touch, the ‘moving-in meal’ followed later, which again did not lack for spirited drinks.”
Moving house
Deaths
Funeral
“In the event of a death, the neighbors were immediately notified; the neighbor women laid out the corpse, which was so-called ‘verhaenekleed’ (shrouded). The nearest neighbors then acted as the primary representatives of the residents. The nearest neighbor woman took over the tasks of the housewife, and the neighbor man those of the master of the house. These customs were the same among the villagers, and even now in the rural districts, that old custom is maintained.”
In the past, there was the so-called ‘funeral beer.’ After the funeral, the residents of the rural district went to one or another café in the village. There they rested from the tiring journey and beer was served. Generally, that beer was not of the very best quality in the past, and it was a sort of brown liquid that one was given to drink. In that café, they took leave of one another and everyone went their own way.”
The funeral procession of the local residents consisted of the cart on which the corpse was transported. This was uncovered. Then followed a number of “canvas carts,” high carts with white hoods. If there was a death in the village, one of the neighbors had to go around the ‘rot’ (neighborhood group) in the morning to warn the people that they ‘had to come to load at eleven o’clock.’ It was usually quite busy there at eleven o’clock, for it was the custom that the ‘nearest neighbor’ went around with the ‘bottle.’ The corpse was carried from the house of the deceased to the cemetery by the neighbors, and again gin was involved, for the pallbearers were given a restorative beforehand.”
Visit
“In the month of May, there were many farm visits. Then friends, family, and acquaintances were invited, and the farmsteads swarmed with visitors. The lands were inspected, the livestock criticized; it was more like a small-scale exhibition. These visits were also always held whenever something had been built. The building material had been fetched by the “neighbors” from the brickworks or storage sites, and a party crowned it all. That neighborly help was something traditional and was also indispensable; people supported each other mutually. Together, they performed what one could not manage alone, and especially during family events, neighborly help was indispensable.”
“During the long winter evenings, people often went on neighborhood visits, and the slaughter visits were also a real night out for the residents of the rural districts. The large sod fire (sods were light peats, the top layer of a peat layer) spread a pleasant warmth when one sat close to it, and then the master of the house sat with his chair tilted back before one side of the mantelpiece, and the neighbor before the other. The conversation then concerned the business, the cows, and the pigs. The visitors smoked for free, and when the pipe had to be lit, a glowing coal was taken from the fire with the tongs.”
The home butcher
The depression in the hearth plate, where the actual heart of the fire was located, was called ‘rake’ or ‘vuurrake.’ The ‘blowpipe,’ the tongs, and the fire spoon were the tools that hung beside the fire. Above the fire, a large chimney breast was built out, which served as a smoke catcher. It was also the storage place for everything one wanted to keep dry, including the gunpowder and the powder horn, for every farmer had a gun, a muzzle-loader, which had to be loaded with powder. Poaching was in the farmer’s blood. He would occasionally outsmart a hare or a rabbit.”
Illustration: Piet te Lintum
The architectural style of the old farms was the Saxon type. In very old houses, the living space for humans and animals was not separated. In most, there was a partition wall, sometimes of stone, sometimes of so-called ‘wand,’ a wickerwork of wood, plastered with loam on both sides. The box beds were mostly all installed in the kitchen, and one can imagine the situations that arose as a result.”
When clothes had to be mended or made new, the tailor from the village came to the house to perform those tasks, and in the evening he would clatter back to the village with the pressing iron and the pressing board in his hands. When May arrived, the farmer could earn an extra income by peeling wood. Around the fields were wooded banks on which oak coppice was grown. When this wood had reached a thickness of approx. 5 cm, it was cut, and because it was ‘in sap’ in May, it was peeled, i.e., stripped of its bark. The wood was chopped to a length of about 1 meter, and then it was laid over another piece of wood and beaten until the bark or crust came loose. The bark was dried and taken to tanneries, where it was processed into tannin. The wood that remained was called ‘schelhout’ (peeled wood) and was a very popular fuel.”
Another resource to increase income was the burning of charcoal. Some had acquired skill in this, and these charcoal burners had their customers everywhere. In the autumn, the farmers moved with the cattle to the fields. Entire fields were overgrown with spurrey, a crop sown after the rye. The cattle were put on the ‘tether’: a pole was driven into the ground, to which a wooden pole with an iron bracket was attached, and fastened to the cow chain or rope. The cattle could then graze a certain section, and each time the cattle had to be ‘tethered further.’”
Market
“When it was market day, people went to the market; if there was livestock to be sold, it was transported to the market, for cattle trading only happened at the market. The Aalten cattle market was therefore very well attended. People became informed about the prices of oxen and other cattle; they heard all sorts of news at the market, which in turn provided subject matter for conversation in the domestic circle.”
The annual fairs were the major event in the life of the population. First there was the May market, in the autumn the Fair, and on December 6th the Saint Nicholas market. Then it was a bustle of great importance in the village. In the morning, the married couples went from home to the market. The cattle market was overcrowded, and in the inner market, there was no lack of stalls and sellers of all kinds of household items. Well-known figures were the quacks who sold herbs, which were said to cure most diseases. The tooth-pullers also usually had good business.”
Veemarkt (Cattle Market) Aalten, around 1934
At those annual fairs, there was dance music in most inns. The young people went to the market in the afternoon. The farm girls first strolled past the stalls, bought something to their liking, and finally grouped together. Then the boys appeared, and they tried to find each other to go out this evening. Some had already made appointments beforehand. These ‘had the sods dry already,’ for in the local dialect, if one had someone’s promise to celebrate the annual fair together, it was said: ‘then one had the sods dry.’ When it was nine o’clock in the evening, and there were still girls who received no proposal, then the chance for them was gone and they had to return home alone. Thus the first marriage bonds were often formed, and the first meeting at the annual fair was decisive for their entire lives.”
Source
‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 12 & 19 November 1937 (via Delpher: part III & part IV)
A small group of glider pilots from this area, who until now practiced their sport at the airfield near Enschede, sought out a site in the Schaarsheide—a location that combines all the favorable factors for gliding.
The steep slope descending from Vragender and Barlo toward this site provides the necessary thermal air currents, while the site itself, spanning over 5 hectares, is beautifully level and has firm ground.
Should the site be approved by the competent authorities, the intention is to commence gliding activities at the beginning of August. An aircraft is already under construction and is nearing completion. If these plans are realized, Aalten will have the scoop on this most modern of sports.
Aaltensche Courant, 5 October 1934
One of the enthusiastic glider pilots may well have been Jan Bennink from Aalten. He built his own glider in 1934 and successfully flew it. Read more »
The task of the gravedigger was to dig graves for the dead. In rural areas, this duty was often outsourced to impoverished villagers or combined with other roles: sextons, night watchmen, or schoolmasters performed the gravedigging alongside their primary occupation. The office of gravedigger provided only a modest (supplementary) income.
Some well-known gravediggers in Aalten and Bredevoort (incomplete list):
De Graafschapbode, 13 April 1889Zutphensche Courant, 16 April 1889Zutphensche Courant, 25 January 1893
De Graafschapbode, 17 November 1914Nieuwe Aaltensche Courant, 12 November 1918De Graafschapper, 6 December 1918Aaltensche Courant, 5 December 1919De Graafschapper, 1 March 1927
Aaltensche Courant, 9 February 1934De Graafschapper, 21 August 1936Dagblad Tubantia, 4 February 1959
On Monday evening, a public meeting of the Nat.-Soc. Bew. (National Socialist Movement) in the Netherlands was held here in the Community Hall, where the leader of this Movement, Ir. A.A. Mussert, took the floor. There was an extraordinary amount of interest in this lecture. The entire Community Hall was occupied to every corner. A very large portion of the visitors had come from the surrounding towns, Winterswijk, Dinxperlo, etc.
Aaltensche Courant, 27 March 1936
The stage was neatly decorated in the colors orange-white-blue and supplemented with plants. The well-known emblems were also displayed in the hall. After the doors were closed at 8:15 PM and Mr. Mussert was received with the customary greeting, he immediately took the floor.
My fellow countrymen, perhaps there are some among you who think that I have come to Aalten to make you national socialists, but I cannot do that. You either are one, or you are not. It depends on what you feel in your heart. Gauge your own heart. If it tells you that what I have said is good, and you believe that we must take this path, then join us. Why am I a national socialist? Because I cannot live in such a mess. We desire things to be as good as possible. We cannot bring you a utopia. But things can and must be different! I shall justify myself to you by showing you how things are now.
I want to speak to you about the moral and material decline. First about the material decline, because it is easier to understand. No one can say that we have been living in a time of progress for the last 20 years. How poorly the farmers are doing. Every day they sink deeper into the pit. Go to Drenthe, to the cities, and see the decline in all classes of society. The unemployed, who learned about the 8-hour day from the S.D.A.P. (Social Democratic Workers’ Party). There are currently 500,000 who have brought it down to zero hours.
The moral decline: See the lack of discipline, the decline of religion. Where is the joy of work, the joy of life? Present-day society says: clothes make the man. That is how one is judged. They can keep the clothes; I want the human being! People are idling away nowadays. Professional expertise hardly exists anymore. Indeed, professional expertise is even often a curse.
Unreliability! Who is still reliable in this world! My fellow countrymen, who is to blame for this? You too will have heard it said here: it is God’s will that man perishes. No, that is blasphemy. We have had no droughts, no floods, etc., that destroyed everything. No. We have had enough of everything, so much even that we had to take it to the manure heap.
Stupid people have made such a mess of it, and we must try to make it better, and it can be better. The system of government is focused on democracy, and it masters the principle of divide and rule.
The country of democracy par excellence is the United States, and there is only one value left there: the dollar. Everything has its price there! And that is the extreme of democracy. Fortunately, we are not that far yet here.
Here they all promise something. If you vote for so-and-so, this and that will happen! That is simply impossible! Since 1920, the gentlemen of the right have governed. Two gentlemen, an Anti-Revolutionary and a Roman Catholic, go out together. One speaks for the R.C. and says, what would the R.C. church be without the R.C. State Party and says: vote R.C.! The other does the same for the A.-Revolut. in Goes. The next day they tell each other that they both did well, and so it has been for years and years!
Now that the N.S.B. is everywhere, the government wants to get rid of proportional representation and return to electoral districts. I shall be curious to see if they manage to do so.
Originally, democracy was well-intentioned. What has become of it, however? For 150 years, people have been working on liberty, equality, and fraternity. Liberty! I stand here in a gray shirt. I am not allowed to stand here in a black shirt, because then I am a danger to the state! In a gray shirt, I am not!
Fraternity! That does not exist at all. Equality consists of the fact that once every 4 years, by placing a dot, you can say which political party you belong to. The national socialist state will be a state of work, hard work. There will then be workers and rabble! Democracy lives off the dictatorship of the political parties. We will no longer tolerate that tyranny of the political parties.
In 1914, when I had to serve, they did not ask me which political party I belonged to. They only asked me that when they dismissed me from my office. Just as we were only Dutchmen then, we should surely be able to be so in normal times as well. The S.D.A.P. has turned from red to pink, and it is moving toward orange. They are getting to the point where, before they eat a pastry, they sing the Wilhelmus while standing!!
The gentlemen in The Hague also speak to the people through the radio now. Be calm, go to sleep peacefully tonight. Dad will look after you! The speaker would like to say to the gentlemen in The Hague: stay in parliament, then the people understand you best. We should have the feeling: state and people are one, but it is not so.
Education is also no longer good. Thousands of guilders are lost annually to vandalism. The people are no longer being educated. There is no longer a future. Where are we heading? Such is the situation! Those who still have something for themselves and otherwise have no interest in anything do not interest me. I need the people who do feel responsibility and want to help build up.
In the first place, we must become a people again! We must start by looking at our own people, to tidy them up. Then we will have done enough for the time being. Let us not interfere with the Abyssinians. There is enough to do here. One is national when one is prepared to make sacrifices for one’s nation. We have a task. This nation must not perish, but for that, we must first feel like a people again. Are we militarists? No, we are only Dutchmen and we want to sacrifice ourselves for the country when necessary, but then with good equipment.
We have 2 warships that were already outdated 20 years ago. I would rather not say how they are now. But when we send you out, it will not be on old scrap metal, but with modern ships. That is also the underlying cause of the mutiny on the “Zeven Provinciën”. That is our militarism. We shall, however, not force anyone to become a soldier who does not wish to do so for reasons of principle.
Once again, the beginning of everything must be: Ensure that you first become a people again! It is about one’s place in society, and democracy can never bring you this. Especially not in the countryside. There are more votes in Amsterdam than in the whole of Groningen, Friesland, and Drenthe. We want everyone, depending on the position they hold, to take their place within their people. The 8,000 miners will have their voice as a corporation, as will the farmers, etc. A people can only be great when everyone performs their task, not for themselves, but for the benefit of the entire people.
What we do is very ordinary; we are no longer mocked, but now feared. Not by the people, but by the government, because we want to make the people one again. That is why our black shirt had to go! But it will return, fellow countrymen, and in much greater numbers than they think!!
Applause.
When the Jews in Germany were dismissed from their offices, the Dutch shed liters of crocodile tears! But when Dutchmen were dismissed from their offices, they thought it was fine! The entire press is ruled by money, by democracy! This regime is perishing and the new rulers will be the national socialists or the communists. We always go straight ahead, we shall always speak the truth, also in “Volk en Vaderland“!
Yes indeed, in “Volk en Vaderland”. If it contains something that is not true, we shall take it back, but when I am asked to write somewhat softer words, I am not at home. We must cut out the wounds. Each of us individually means nothing, but collectively, when we feel like one people again, we can achieve something and we will achieve something. That is the meaning of national socialism. Steady as she goes!!
After the break, various written questions received were answered in detail by the speaker. Then, the 1st and 8th verses of the Wilhelmus were sung while standing.
De Graafschapper, 7 April 1936
Letters to the Editor. Outside the responsibility of the Editorial Board
The fact that Ir. A.A. Mussert, the General Leader of the National Socialist Movement, has spoken in Aalten, gives me cause for the following remarks. I would have preferred to explain the following facts in a debate, but we know the staging of N.S.B. meetings: no debate, but an opportunity to ask written questions. If no questions are submitted, some are quickly fabricated; if difficult questions are asked, then by chance so many questions have come in that there is no time left for those difficult questions. Moreover, as a pre-eminent expert in N.S.B. affairs, I am denied access to the meetings, let alone a debate. A foretaste of the Mussert regime!
I begin by repeating my offer to any group of the N.S.B. to fully inform members and the public in a public meeting about everything that may interest them, namely about farmer deception, bossism, corruption, dishonesty, and immorality within the N.S.B. I am afraid, however, that no single group of the N.S.B., knowing what appalling conditions within the N.S.B. I would bring to light, will dare to accept my offer, and therefore I must make use of your hospitality to at least rescue a few points from oblivion.
The officials of the N.S.B. in the Achterhoek have spent more than a year trying to persuade Mr. Mussert to speak at a public meeting in Aalten. Mr. Mussert did not feel much for it as long as the circles in the Achterhoek, Zutphen, Winterswijk, and Doetinchem did not bring money into the coffers. For the N.S.B. needs a lot of money every month. While the leaders are always muttering about the fascist “serving and sacrificing,” they let themselves be paid handsomely by the N.S.B.
Mr. Mussert receives a salary of ƒ 8,000 plus emoluments, Mr. C. van Geelkerken ƒ 4,000, although as a clerk at the Provincial Registry of Utrecht he never earned more than ƒ 2,400. Rev. van Duyl receives ƒ 2,400 salary from the N.S.B. on top of his salary as a minister. Not all N.S.B. bosses are paid so generously. At the District House in Arnhem, for example, a former police officer works. The man has no pension or redundancy pay and is on the dole. If everything were normal with this man, he would not need to be on the dole; he would be in receipt of a salary, redundancy pay, or a pension.
I cannot be clearer, but it is the kind of people with whom Mr. Mussert prefers to surround himself. This man earns five guilders a week from the N.S.B. Until recently, he was a sergeant in Mr. Mussert’s glorious W.A. (Stormtroopers). Naturally, he cannot live on ƒ 5 per week, and therefore he is also on the dole. Until recently, he did not report his N.S.B. wages to Social Services. He does this on the advice of high-ranking N.S.B. officials. Of course, that man is exposed to criminal prosecution every day; he always has one leg in prison.
For me, the aggravating factor is that Mr. Mussert is aware of this, for I have written to him personally. At the District House in Arnhem alone, I could point out three such cases. They are, of course, only a small percentage of the members who are paid for their work. Their “sacrifice” is then set as an example to those hundreds of misled people who are truly so naive as to believe that all members perform the tasks assigned to them without payment.
In Dinxperlo, for example, a group house was built by the unemployed which, now that it is finished, is hardly used. Those unemployed were not compensated a single cent for their labor by the N.S.B., and these poor wretches were set as an example by the N.S.B. in all other places for the members as proof of self-sacrifice. Would these misled people want to perform the same work for free again if they knew that in the large cities all labor is paid for by the N.S.B., such as canvassing and distribution?
I once attended a meeting with Mr. Mussert where the possibility of making workers members of the N.S.B. was discussed. Mr. Mussert believed that we could try to make workers members, but we should leave the “scum” alone. In this context, Mr. Mussert meant the unemployed by “scum,” of whom the N.S.B. supposedly already had enough.
A similar expression was once uttered by the provincial election leader of the N.S.B. for Gelderland, Mr. J. Frowein in Oosterbeek, during the propaganda campaign for the Provincial Council elections last year. “What use are those unemployed to you as members? You can’t let them do anything or you have to pay for it.” Mr. Mussert also knows this, because it was reported to Utrecht by an unemployed person. Without result, however, for Mr. Frowein, together with his brother, Mr. F.W. Frowein, pays two thousand guilders in membership fees per year to the N.S.B., and Mr. Mussert is careful with such members, while that ƒ 2,000 for the aforementioned wealthy men is merely a kind of insurance premium in case the N.S.B. actually comes to power!
Some time ago, I attended a meeting of the N.S.B. in Winterswijk with Mr. Mussert as the preacher. It was still in the time when the N.S.B. was on the rise, when many in their despair and decline saw salvation in that N.S.B. Thus, the meeting was also attended by many country folk. It was a cold evening and the hall was poorly heated. Some older people still had their caps on when Mr. Mussert appeared on the stage. The first thing he barked into the hall was: “caps off.”
You see, such high-handed behavior from a supposedly well-bred person toward simple people who, after a hard day’s work, take the trouble to attend a meeting, reflects the mentality of the General Leader of the N.S.B.
Those cap-wearers, that scum, do not interest him because they cannot pay membership fees from which the often very substantial salaries of the N.S.B. bosses can be paid. I must not abuse the hospitality of your paper. I could fill columns with facts that would demonstrate the insincerity and the charade of the N.S.B.
I could point out how the N.S.B. in the cities is against the Cooperative, yet in the countryside does not dare to agitate against the agricultural Cooperatives; how the N.S.B. itself has no agricultural program but hopes to parasitize on the Drenthe success of a farmers’ organization like “Landbouw en Maatschappij”; how, for example, in the Achterhoek, in places like Winterswijk, Varsseveld, Doetinchem, and Dinxperlo, farmers’ meetings were held under the name of “Landbouw en Maatschappij,” while those meetings were requested, prepared, and settled, and the risk borne by the N.S.B.; how the N.S.B. works with different demagogic means in every region or city because everywhere and always the interests of stakeholders supporting the N.S.B. with money must be spared, etc. etc.
I end with a very topical proof of the insincerity of the N.S.B. In the Achterhoek, too, many meetings have been held with the butcher Roelofsen as speaker about the pig crisis scandals. The N.S.B. deemed it necessary to repeatedly announce in “Volk en Vaderland” that the N.S.B. had nothing to do with Mr. Roelofsen’s campaign. A falsehood, for Mr. R. was paid by the N.S.B. for this work and received all the data for his campaign from the N.S.B. Mr. R. was somewhat careless in his campaign and received police reports and finally a prison sentence.
I personally have seen the letter in which Mr. R. was informed on behalf of Mr. Mussert that he would no longer receive a salary. He received that letter on the day he was arrested in Rotterdam to serve his first sentence. Sensitive, isn’t it? Yes, is it pleasant to sacrifice for the N.S.B. and be a martyr!!
In the meantime, he was sentenced again by the Court in Zutphen to 5 months in prison. Having appealed this, he sought legal assistance from one of his comrades in Arnhem, an N.S.B. lawyer. This “comrade,” however, asked for such a high fee for his help that Mr. R. could not pay it. He did not receive help from Mr. Mussert or from Headquarters either. Is it any wonder that he had had enough of the N.S.B. and resigned his membership himself?
In the session of the Senate, the N.S.B. member Count de Marchant et d’Ansembourg (also not an unemployed person) is severely rebuked by the agricultural expert Ruijter, and the Roelofsen case is also brought up. What does the Count have to answer to this?: “Mr. Roelofsen was expelled because, despite warnings, it was no longer possible to work with him.” A Count does not lie, does not speak untruths. Let me put it very parliamentarily: The Count is mistaken; Mr. Roelofsen was never warned, was never expelled as a member; he resigned as a member of the N.S.B. himself in my presence!
But let this Roelofsen case be an instructive lesson for all residents of the Achterhoek. Sacrificing and serving, wonderful, if the leaders set the example. Socialism, wonderful, but then also for the unemployed or any other “scum” whatsoever. And no criticism of others until things are so pure within one’s own Movement or organization that one has the right to exercise criticism. In my opinion, the N.S.B. is the very last political party that has the right to throw dirt at others.
The glorious weather of the past few days—true summer weather, with plenty of sunshine and mild temperatures—is still luring many people out to the woods and heath. Walkers and those in more of a hurry, venturing out by bicycle, often choose the beautiful Zelhemseweg (the present-day Romienendiek, ed.), the old Hessenweg, for their excursions.
On Friday, there was something else to enjoy alongside the natural beauty. A number of young men were labouring along the soft, sandy road, pulling a cart laden with strange-looking contraptions. Pausing occasionally to catch their breath, they chatted and gestured animatedly. Clearly, something special was underway. Anyone wishing to satisfy their curiosity could only do so at the cost of a fair walk. The group pushed ever further, pulling or pushing with renewed zeal after every short rest. Upon reaching the Schaapskooi (sheepfold), the column turned right, and they halted at the edge of the woods on the heights above the flat, reclaimed terrain, where flowering lupins still painted bright, brilliant yellow spots on the brownish-grey surface here and there.
There was no more catching of breath. Now, busy activity: nimble hands carefully took the mysterious objects from the cart and laid them out meticulously on the beautiful heathland according to a set plan. Pliers, wrenches, bolts, and nuts were produced. With care and deliberation, the various items were connected; the work began to take shape. What was about to happen here?
A kind of sledge with a seat, and in front of it a swivelling stick where the feet could be placed. Behind that, a pair of upright tubes, firmly attached to the sledge. Next, it was the turn of a few large, flat pieces: a construction of tube and slats, covered with linen and paper, approximately 9 metres long and well over a metre wide. With combined effort, these pieces were placed on the upright tubes and secured with bolts. Tension wires ensured the correct alignment. The whole structure now took the shape of a large bird. All that remained was the tail, which was also soon attached, and before us stood a glider—perhaps not constructed to all requirements, but a very decent one nonetheless—with an elevator and rudder on the tail, albeit without ailerons on the rear of the wings.
Everything was checked thoroughly one last time, nuts were tightened again, tension wires were adjusted slightly, and then the first test was to be carried out. The tow cable—in this case, a number of inner tubes—was attached, the device was dragged to the edge of the slope, and the pilot took his place on the sledge. Feet on the ‘steering’, checking briefly if it worked, and yes, it worked fine. The rudders responded to the slightest pressure of the foot.
Aaltensche Courant, 5 October 1934
Now, the great moment had arrived. Expectations were high. Would it succeed? One part of the helpers positioned themselves behind the machine to hold it back; another part went to the tow cable and pulled, pulled with all their might to achieve the greatest possible tension. After all, the greater the speed at take-off, the greater the chance of lifting off the ground. The wind, too, played a part. However, it was nowhere to be seen; it was absolutely still.
They decided to give it a try regardless. The helpers pulled harder; one more tug, and with a whistling sound, the rubber cable, stretched to its limit, snapped. A mixture of sadness and amusement: sadness over the setback, amusement at the helpers who bit the dust, rolling down the slope head over heels. Soon, however, the cable was repaired. An experience richer, they started again, this time with a little less energy. Then the pilot’s command: “Let go.”
With a jerk, the contraption lurched forward and glided along the ground for a distance, even lifting slightly. But there was no talk of gliding yet. Back to the starting point. The elevator was adjusted to be a bit steeper, and they started again. And yes, it went better. The aircraft clearly lifted off the ground, but it landed somewhat uncomfortably a bit further on. Without too much damage, however.
Back to the starting point once more. The third time’s the charm. Once again, the helpers pulled with all their might, the command “Let go” sounded again, and again the bird surged forward, now with the elevator even steeper, and yes, now it was going up. This silent bird glided over a stream, but one of its wings struck a tree branch. The wing snapped off, and like a bird shot in flight, the machine slid down and hit the ground with a crash, irreparably damaged.
Months of labour in spare hours had been destroyed in one fell swoop. The still-usable material was dismantled and loaded back onto the handcart, and a less enthusiastic troop returned to the village. Less enthusiastic than on the way there, but the constructor, the 17-year-old electrician Bennink, was not discouraged. After all, it had worked! It must be possible with a home-built, but slightly better-constructed device of more stable build. Plans for this were already being made, and this indicates that we will likely see this enterprising young man make another attempt in some time. Taught by experience, a subsequent attempt will surely have a better chance of success.
De Graafschapbode, 3 October 1934
The builder of the glider, Jan Bennink, lived on the Kattenberg in Aalten. Ninety years later, a home-built glider by Jan Bennink was discovered near his childhood home, in the attic of a building on the Lichtenvoordsestraatweg where a friend of his lived at the time. Perhaps this friend hid it as a precaution shortly after the outbreak of World War II, after Bennink had been questioned at the police station about his flying hobby.
In 1932, there was excitement among historians regarding a potential “find of prehistoric value” in the Ringkampsbulten near Aalten. The presence of 2,000-year-old vaulted dome-shaped graves was suspected within an artificial mound there. Excavations were to provide clarity, with unexpected results.
Mysteries
On 9 March 1932, the Graafschapbode reported:
Mr Beernink from Aalten, a member of “de Graafschap”, approached the secretary, Dr Westerbeek van Eerten from Hummelo, with the request to come and conduct an investigation in a heathland area on the German border to the south-east of Aalten. Situated there was a small artificial mound with ramparts where, according to the local residents, things were not quite right. They spoke of pixies, ghosts, ulkenpötte (hobgoblins), and further mysteries.
The Aaltensche Courant wrote on 11 March 1932:
Along the historical road leading from neighbouring Barlo in Germany to the old fortress town of Bredevoort lies, on the right-hand side as one travels in the direction of Germany, a small pine wood, ostensibly identical to several of these woodland plots still to be found on the Haart.
For the historian, particularly the researcher of prehistory, this wood signifies more than just a plot of woodland. For him, the lines and contours of the soil are a page of history – history from thousands of years ago. To the layman, it is a bumpy plot of pines, featuring first a rampart about 1 metre high, then a slight depression, followed once more by a rise in the centre of which is a bowl-shaped hollow.
Upon closer inspection, it appears that the outermost rampart follows a roughly egg-shaped course, with a length of about 100 metres and a width of approximately 50 metres. Within this enclosure sits the aforementioned elevation with its characteristic bowl-shaped hollow, which immediately leads the connoisseur to suspect a “tumulus” or barrow from prehistoric times. At the thickest end of this egg shape (the pointed end lies on the eastern side), we encounter the mound with its bowl-shaped hollow.
A photograph of the presumed “tumulus” in the Ringkampsbulten. Underneath the vaulted ground, 2,000-year-old graves were believed to be located.
Standing upon this mound and looking eastwards, it becomes apparent that this elevation in the terrain – which locally consists predominantly of light yellow fine sand – directly borders a plain which, as far as the eye can see, formerly consisted of marshy ground, but has been converted into agricultural land over the past forty years through effective drainage. Further north, the terrain remains fairly undulating and mainly sandy. A few lower-lying plots have already been brought into cultivation here as well.
The outermost ring or rampart (the site derives its name of “Ringkampsbulte” from this ring) has partially fallen into decay on the western side due to a cart track, whilst a woodland path also intersects the ring in two places. However, when standing on the mound, the characteristic shape of the ring is clearly delineated. The terrain is entirely overgrown with pines, the falling needles forming a soft carpet over the firm ground into which our feet sink. Rabbits, burrowing their holes into the mound, have brought the pure sand to the surface here and there.
Pixies
In popular folklore, it is said that “eerdmannekes” (pixies) have been seen playing on the rampart; furthermore, the mound was reputedly haunted, while older folk recall tales of urns that are supposedly present there. According to the scholars, one is dealing here with a barrow from the Neolithic period – that is to say, from the third or indeed the final period of the Stone Age. The outermost ring, however, is unique.
Mr A.J.G. Beernink of this town, who had been aware of these conditions for years and sensed the history of this piece of nature, informed the government commissioner for the detection of historically valuable monuments of this some years ago, because so much of value had already been lost on the Haart. This warning, however, yielded no result. To prevent unskilful digging and searching, Mr Beernink did not publicise the matter. Fortunately, the land, which is municipal property, remained intact.
In August 1930, the aforementioned gentleman informed Mr Hoefer in Hattem, chairman of the prehistoric society, of his suspicion that a grave or cremation site of the ancient Germanic peoples was to be found here. Initially, nothing was heard in response to this either, but after Mr Beernink had once again pressed the matter with the society, Mr Westerbeek van Eerten came here as the plenipotentiary of the “Foundation for the Protection of Prehistoric Monuments in Gelderland”. Then the ball was set rolling.
Scientific investigation
Shortly, a systematic scientific investigation will begin under the direction of Dr van Giffen. Dr van Giffen considers the find highly important, all the more so since traces of timber construction have been found and the dimensions are unique. The excavation, which must of course be carried out with the necessary caution and usually consists of hoeing away the soil layer by layer in thin slices, will commence before long. This will be done from the south-western side towards the centre, because experience has shown that over such a vast span of time, the topsoil shifts somewhat in a north-easterly direction due to weather influences. With this method, one therefore stands the best chance of finding the actual dome-shaped graves as quickly as possible.
What will be found? Perhaps interesting discoveries will be made even for a layman, in the form of urns and stone objects. The urns, if found, are extremely fragile upon discovery because, being mostly fashioned from clay, they were dried in the sun. Baked urns, which are consequently stronger, invariably dated from a later period. If dried urns are found and are handled and dried carefully, they can sometimes still be saved. For the expert, however, every non-natural modification in the strata provides an invaluable clue.
Thus, for example, dark round spots in the excavation point to a post that was driven in previously, whilst in this manner it has been possible to establish the site where a hut stood thousands of years ago. A ring-shaped site, for instance, enclosed by round dark spots in the lighter-coloured soil, indicates the posts that propped up the hut. Inside such a ring, one then sometimes finds remnants of ash and occasionally prehistoric objects as well.
All objects that are found will be handed over to the local Oudheidkamer (historical museum). When presently the hoe is thrust into the soil, when the scanning eye of the historian searchingly contemplates the exposed earth and finds what is presumed to be found, then this find will prove to be one such as has not been made in the Netherlands, indeed perhaps in Europe, to date. May it be so.
Unexpected result
On 25 July 1933, the Zutphensche Courant reported:
In its annual report for 1932, the board of the Foundation for the Protection of Prehistoric Cultural Monuments in Gelderland states, among other things, the following: At the general meeting of 26 February 1932, a commission was granted to Dr van Giffen to carry out an excavation on the Ringkampsbulte near Aalten, after which Dr van Giffen made a start on the investigation at the beginning of April. Just a few days later, the excavation was halted, as to the astonishment of Dr van Giffen and his staff, it had become apparent that one was dealing here with a natural ring dyke (ringwal), the highly peculiar shape of which had misled the experts.
Close to the ring dyke, however, lies a grave from the La Tène period, and Dr van Giffen suspects the presence of a necropolis there, for which further investigation would undoubtedly be rewarding. This investigation, however, was impossible for the moment due to the condition of the land, so that we hope to be able to return to this later.
Whether any matters of interest have been found in the Ringkampsbulten (since then) remains unknown to us for the time being. Do you have more information? We would love to hear from you!
At the end of September 1931, large-scale army exercises took place in the Achterhoek, in which the municipality of Aalten also formed part of the battlefield. Troops were billeted with civilians, and a complete tent camp was erected on the Varsseveldsestraatweg in Lintelo. The simulated skirmishes attracted many curious spectators, and the press reported extensively. Below are several fragments from newspaper articles of that time.
Wednesday and this morning, our town was the centre of the manoeuvres. All day long, the aircraft circled above this area, and from the railway line to the North, straight through the Wolboom and the Aalter Esch, it was one continuous line of outposts and machine-gun groups.
Half of Aalten, as well as a very large number of strangers, visited the “front”. We also noticed a great many German cars. Night fell without an encounter having taken place. The posts remained in position and spent the night in so-called “dog kennels” on a thick layer of straw and provided with a few blankets. In some parts of the village, where the Red troops lay close to the houses, coffee was brewed all night long, and in many families there, not much sleep was had.
Minister Deckers to the front: the Minister of War with his car at Hotel Schiller in Aalten; accompanied by several staff officers
When we stood on the Aalter Esch at nine o’clock, Blue had gained combat contact and heavy firing was also heard in the North. The Red outposts lay with one or two men in a bundle of straw like birds in a nest. It might have appeared as if they had just crawled out of a strange egg, but that was not the case; they had lain on that windy height all night.
Blue could not advance further for the time being and this, as we know, was not the intention either. After all, the decision was to be forced to the North and South of Aalten.
By a field kitchen
A sergeant-messmaster writes to us from the battlefield: It was three o’clock in the morning on Wednesday when the 10th and 22nd Infantry Regiments departed from Ede with all vehicles by train to take up the defensive position of the Red party near Aalten. The organisation — truly no small feat with such nocturnal transport en masse — proved to be in excellent order and everything proceeded with the greatest regularity, so that troops and baggage train arrived promptly at the agreed time of 6:15 AM in Aalten.
The morale among the troops is high, to which the well-filled bread bag (bread, cheese, and extra currant buns) certainly contributes its share. Moreover, the weather is beautiful, and nothing boosts the morale of the troops as much as good weather and good food.
“As long as the rations are in order, messmaster,” said a giant of a fellow from the troops in his sturdy Rotterdam dialect, “then we’ll manage the hauling.” And my cooks see to it that the rations are in order. Just outside Aalten, a set of field kitchens is stationed, and the personnel, one cook and two assistant cooks for each kitchen, are already busy ensuring that the coffee is ready at 12 o’clock and that a large quantity of hutspot is ready for the hungry troops by about five o’clock.
The fires are burning; in one pot of my field kitchen, the water for the coffee is boiling, and in the other pot, the carrots and onions are already beginning to simmer, as the cook calls it. Now, this afternoon, the potatoes still need to be boiled, the boiled meat mashed in with fat, and the troops can enjoy a hearty meal.
To the front
At 10 o’clock, the order came to “line up as close as possible to the respective company,” and so the field kitchen, while the pot was tended to during the journey, moved to a small outdoor café near Aalten, where we positioned ourselves under the trees, “covered from enemy aircraft” as it is called. Our men are in the defensive position and, beaming with pleasure because they have a “line,” are waiting in the sun for the enemy. And when the coffee was brought to them promptly at 12 o’clock, the unanimous verdict was that these manoeuvres weren’t so bad after all.
The bustle in Aalten
The otherwise so quiet and peaceful Aalten is now full of the clamour of war. Aircraft hum above the village and engage in mock dogfights, which all villagers watch with the greatest attention. But the field kitchens with the increasingly dirty cooks also attract attention. Motorcycles and cars with umpires shoot through the villages with loud bangs, and an extensive staff of military police ensures that the abnormally heavy traffic does not cause any accidents.
Aaltensche Courant, 5 June 1931De Graafschapper, 18 September 1931Zutphensche Courant, 19 September 1931Aaltensche Courant, 29 September 1931
Distributing food
The army cooks are busy satisfying so many eager mouths during the exercises
Five o’clock! The field kitchen heads out onto the country roads with a full pot of hutspot to deliver food to the company in its various units, the sections. The vehicle is greeted with cheers everywhere. The soldiers have a hearty hunger, despite the easy job in the defensive position. The food is excellent and sufficient, so there are no complaints or grumbling. On the contrary, jokes and quips fly back and forth.
There is only one concern left among the troops: where will we sleep tonight and when must we get up again. And that is precisely a question that cannot be solved for the time being, because the troops are in a so-called alarm position and a message could arrive at any moment that they must move forward or backward, and then instead of sleeping in quarters, it will be sleeping in small tents, with the possibility that just as the troops have fallen asleep, they receive word to depart elsewhere again.
Surprising things were unfolding there in the North. The Blue Reconnaissance Department, which had set out from Vossenberg towards Winterswijk, found Vragender occupied by Red and had established itself in Lichtenvoorde, the most important road junction North of Aalten. There, the Light Brigade now found itself missing out. It had received orders from the Red commander to occupy Lichtenvoorde, but encountered the Blue Reconnaissance Department there, which could still hold out for a while.
The commander of Red began to fear the threat to his Northern flank. He called upon his Grenadiers, who for this occasion were swift-footed, and who were hastily dispatched from Groenlo in Ford vehicles via Winterswijk towards Bredevoort to extend the Northern flank there. They took up positions on either side of the Bredevoort—Lichtenvoorde road, North of Barlo, just past the three-way junction.
The armoured cars played a large part in the military operations during the manoeuvres held on Friday in the vicinity of Doesburg and Aalten
Two observers in position at a forward post during the army exercises held in Aalten and Doesburg on Friday
End of exercise
Today, Thursday morning, the Blue troops advanced strongly, so that eventually the Red army had to retreat to the Lichtenvoorde road. After 11:30 AM, there was not much more for the very numerous public to see. Most had certainly thought that a major attack was still to come, but the army leadership apparently felt it was enough and nothing more happened. Particularly fine were the performances of the aircraft, which cruised incessantly above Aalten.
At 12 o’clock, the manoeuvres came to an end. Throughout the afternoon and evening, there was a great bustle in the streets of troops departing again, either to the station here, where long passenger and freight trains were formed and departed all afternoon and night, or on foot to Winterswijk to catch the train there. A large part remains here tonight, so there is a great deal of billeting. Tomorrow, peace will gradually return to the village.
This morning, on the German border near the Kruiskapelle, on the small road leading from Bauhuis to Germany, an encounter took place between German customs officers and smugglers. A customs officer, emerging from a forest, fired several consecutive shots at a German who was fleeing by bicycle toward Holland, with the result that, when he was approximately 10 m onto Dutch territory, he collapsed with two gunshot wounds to the chest.
According to the statement of the eyewitness, shopkeeper Bauhuis, the customs officer must still have been shooting when the smuggler was already on Dutch territory. If this is the case, and the statement is very pertinent, it signifies an instance of border violation that will likely have further consequences.
The Eyewitness’s Story
When we asked Bauhuis about the circumstances of the case, he informed us of the following:
Around 7 o’clock this morning, three German smugglers headed toward the German border. Just as they were briefly on German territory, a young German customs officer emerged from a forest and attempted to detain the smugglers. Two of them fled toward Germany, one toward Holland. The latter was pursued by the customs officer.
During this pursuit, he fired about twenty shots, even when the fugitive had already arrived on Dutch territory. When he had crossed the border by approximately 10 meters, he collapsed, hit in two places on the right side of the chest by revolver bullets.
His statement was firm that shots had been fired at the smuggler who was already on Dutch territory. He was also of the opinion that the customs officer, a very young man who had presumably arrived only recently, did not know exactly where the border lay at that location.
When the man was shot, Bauhuis stated, I was under the impression that he was going to die soon, and since I would rather not have him in the house, I made him a bed of straw on German territory, where we laid him down. I should not have done that, because later the German police took custody of him and transported him to the hospital in Wesel.
This naturally complicates the investigation from the Dutch side, as it is no longer possible to determine exactly what the situation was when the man fell.
Meanwhile, a different explanation is being given from the German side. The matter is being investigated. The leadership of this is in the hands of the detachment commander of the Marechaussee here, Sergeant G. v. Buren. During the initial investigation, the acting Mayor, Alderman F.H. Somsen, was present at the scene.
On Friday, April 24, 1931, 24-year-old Anton Prinsen was found dead on the threshing floor of his parental home in ‘t Dal. The alerted physician soon suspected that foul play might be involved. The event caused a great stir in the village and was reported in the national press.
The farmhouse and barn where the tragedy unfolded.
Anton Prinsen lived with his brother Derk Jan (1908) and their mother, the widow Mina Prinsen-te Kiefte (1873), in a farmhouse with the former address Aalten A160. Following the address change in 1934, this became ‘t Dal 14. It appears that violent disagreements frequently occurred within the Prinsen family. Both brothers were known to be very rough.
On that particular Friday morning at approximately half past seven, Dr. Hartman was alerted by a neighbor boy that Anton Prinsen had fallen on the threshing floor. Prinsen was supposed to bring a load of fertilizer to the fields that morning and was to borrow a horse from a certain V. for that purpose. When he failed to collect it, people went to check and found the body lying on the threshing floor. When the doctor arrived at the scene, Anton had already passed away.
As a tragic detail, it was also mentioned that the victim had entered into a notice of intended marriage on the Wednesday before his death.
Possible crime
Based on the position of the body and the visible external injuries, Dr. Hartman concluded that a crime may have been committed. The mayor and the chief constable were alerted and appeared at the scene. They immediately launched an investigation and interrogated the household members, mother and son, as well as the individuals who had been at the scene after the accident. Mother and son declared that Anton had fallen and hit his head on a handcart in such a way that he succumbed to his injuries. However, the investigation reinforced the suspicion of foul play, and the public prosecutor’s office in Zutphen was notified by telephone.
The body was temporarily seized and guarded by the police. Around half past two in the afternoon, the public prosecutor, Mr. Baron Speyaart van Woerden, the examining magistrate, Mr. Mees, the clerk of the court, Mr. Meindersma, and two doctors arrived for the autopsy. Later, a police expert, Dr. Hesselink from Arnhem, also arrived.
The examining magistrate interrogated the brother of the deceased, but he denied all guilt. After Dr. Hesselink took several photographs of the position of the body, the remains were transported to the Rest Home by police stretcher. Meanwhile, the experts and the chief constable searched for blood and other traces. These were discovered on the walls, the outer door of the threshing floor, and on several sacks of grain.
Arrest
An autopsy on the victim’s body indicated that he had died by strangulation. The brother of the deceased was arrested and placed in custody. The detainee was escorted to the police station on foot, watched by a large crowd discussing the case. This later led to parliamentary questions from Member of Parliament Mrs. Bakker-Nort. The Minister of Justice replied that “an investigation has shown him that on the evening of Friday, April 24, 1931, at approximately nine o’clock, the suspect in question was transferred unhandcuffed from his home to the police station in Aalten, and very shortly thereafter from that station to the detention cells, covering a total distance of approximately 750 m. Since no escape was feared, the public’s attitude was calm, and the suspect, instead of expressing any objection to the transfer on foot, showed great indifference, the police officers charged with the transfer apparently found no reason to seek a means of transport for that evening transfer over the relatively short distance. The minister believes that under the given circumstances, and since the use of a cellular van was naturally excluded, the manner in which the suspect was transferred can hardly be subject to well-founded objections.”
On Saturday morning at 8 o’clock, the suspect was transferred to Zutphen and placed at the disposal of the Public Prosecutor. At the tram station, he called out a “Mòjn” (local greeting) to all his acquaintances.
Confession
A few days later, the mother and brother finally made a full confession. According to them, the events unfolded as follows:
Early Friday morning, the widow Prinsen called her son Anton to milk the cows. This young man then used some very improper expressions toward his mother and began milking. When his mother called him to eat while he was milking the second cow, he replied: “Oh old woman, I’d rather slice you into strips.” Thereupon, the other son Derk attacked his brother, and a violent struggle ensued. Suddenly, Derk Jan noticed that he had squeezed his brother Anton’s throat too hard. He cried: “Mother, mother, I have killed him! Don’t say anything, don’t make me miserable!”
Limburgsch Dagblad, 4 May 1931
Both then agreed not to tell the truth and devised a false statement. It was to be presented as if Anton had fallen with his head against a wheel of a handcart and that this had resulted in his death. This is what they told Dr. Hartman, the mayor, and the chief constable on Friday morning.
The Limburgsch Dagblad reported on May 4 that the mother had also been detained for complicity and even for strangling the unconscious victim. This charge was presumably later withdrawn, as the court records mention nothing about it.
Court case
Arnhemsche Courant, 5 May 1931
The District Court in Zutphen sentenced Derk Jan Prinsen by verdict of October 23, 1931, to 10 years’ imprisonment, with credit for time served in pre-trial detention. Both the suspect and the public prosecutor appealed this ruling. The defense counsel was Mr. H. Maten, a lawyer from Arnhem.
In the appeal case, a witness stated about the suspect: “He has limited intellect, is backward and shy.” The court report also mentions that the suspect “comes from a difficult background, that the family was not favorably known, and that repeated thefts etc. occurred.”
Shortly after the crime, the Arnhemsche Courant had reported that the accused was also suspected of assaulting a 14-year-old girl in Lintelo. However, nothing is mentioned about this in the court records.
On Thursday, February 4, 1932, the Court of Appeal in Arnhem ruled that the perpetrator did not have the intent to kill his brother, so that this was ‘merely’ a case of assault resulting in death. The maximum sentence for that offense was six years, and that maximum sentence was therefore imposed by the Court, without credit for time served. Prinsen served four years of this, after which the sentence was converted into a conditional one.
Anton Prinsen was buried at the Old Cemetery on the Varsseveldsestraatweg.
Perpetrator continues on the wrong path
More than ten years later, on March 3, 1943, the newspaper Het Volk wrote:
“The perpetrator of the murder of seven-year-old Guusje Zadelhof, which was committed last Sunday in Hummelo, 34-year-old D.J. Prinsen from Aalten, also committed the murder of his brother approximately ten years ago, whom he killed by strangulation during a fight.
This is not the only crime on his criminal record. On February 5 last, he had just been released from prison, where he had spent a year for chicken theft.
As we understand, Dr. Hulst from Leiden performed an autopsy on the body of the young victim. It is not excluded that the murderer first beat the boy with a stick. After that, he was struck with an axe.”
The Arnhem court sentenced the now 34-year-old farmhand for this crime to 15 years’ imprisonment with credit for time served, followed by TBS (mandatory psychiatric treatment).
The boy was murdered after entering the barn at his parental home that Sunday morning to feed his rabbits. He had presumably disturbed Prinsen, who had spent the night there.
The municipal police were informed by telephone by the Bocholt police that two Dutchmen were suspiciously offering a bicycle for sale there. Two of our police officers subsequently left for Bocholt and found the suspects there, namely H. C. S. and M. v. d. Sch. Both individuals complied with the request to accompany them to Aalten, and an investigation revealed that both were residents of Doetinchem.
A telephone conversation with the police revealed that a bicycle had been stolen from the Vijverberg by means of a break-in, and the bicycle S. had in his possession matched the stolen bike exactly. Both bicycles were then seized, and the suspects were subsequently taken in handcuffs to Doetinchem, where the case will be further investigated. It further appears that the suspects are notorious burglars. S. has already served 10 years in prison, and v.d. Sch. has been convicted on several occasions.
The good relationship between the Bocholt and Aalten police is therefore the reason these dangerous gentlemen have been apprehended.
Source
Nieuwe Winterswijksche Courant, 19 March 1926 (Delpher)
In 1937, G.H. Rots described how life used to be in Aalten in a series of articles in the Aaltensche Courant. Regarding wolf hunting, he wrote:
“Just as fox hunts are organised nowadays to exterminate the few long-tailed foxes that remain, this was once done to eradicate a larger and more harmful predator. In the years when the population suffered greatly at the hands of marauding soldiers, the wolf was still a feared predator in these parts.
Imagine the situation in those days. Extensive forests, and in the lowlands, the farmsteads. Livestock grazed in the meadows, surrounded by woodland. The coppice also grew luxuriantly around the essen (es-lands). An eldorado for wildlife, therefore. The wolf went hunting, and the farmers’ dwindling livestock was also plagued by its natural enemy. Large drives were then organised.
Large nets were stretched out somewhere, and the game was driven into them, while the hunters lay in wait to bring down the prey with their guns, equipped with ‘pan and stone’ (flintlock mechanism). However, the wolves likely disappeared more due to advancing deforestation than through the hunts. Especially when the torch of war ceased to burn and the farming population settled everywhere, the wolves’ reign came to an end.”
Wolf Hunt, 16th-century print by Etienne Delaune, Rijksmuseum Amsterdam
June 1923
About a century ago, there were reports of a wolf present in the woods of ’t Walfort.
De Graafschapper, 12 June 1923
December 1847
During the night of 5 to 6 December, two ‘large dogs’ wreaked havoc in the sheep pen at Kortbeek farm in Heurne, Aalten.
Groninger Courant, 14 December 1847
Wolf hunt in the Achterhoek (1600)
Sources
‘From Aalten’s Past’, by G.H. Rots, Aaltensche Courant, 11 March 1938 (via Delpher)
At the end of 1922, the residents of Aalten sent food aid to the destitute population of the neighboring German city of Bocholt.
Germany’s defeat in World War I had profound consequences. In 1919, the Allies forced Germany to accept full responsibility for the war, and enormous reparations were imposed on the country. The staggering debt burden to the Allies led to hyperinflation and a severe economic crisis. This resulted in extreme poverty and famine for the majority of the German population.
On September 28, 1922, the municipal council of Aalten decided to help the destitute population of the neighboring German city of Bocholt, “in recognition of the good that Aalten enjoyed from this industrial city before the war.” The aid consisted of sending foodstuffs that were available here in abundance.
On November 17, the Aaltensche Courant reported:
Old Town Hall of Bocholt, for illustration
“This morning, the second shipment of food, collected by the citizens of the municipality of Aalten, left for Bocholt. In the following weeks, the residents of the municipality of Aalten gathered several more shipments of food and sent them to Bocholt. On Tuesday, seven wagons carrying potatoes, cabbage, rye, etc., crossed the border, while two more transports are scheduled to depart next week. That these efforts are received with great joy requires no explanation, given the dire need, and this humane act will certainly contribute to the resumption of friendly relations (broken by the war) with our neighbors.”
Dr. Schmitz, Mayor of Bocholt
Ten days later, the Zutphense Courant wrote:
“Nov 26 – During the council meeting of the border city of Bocholt, the mayor delivered a speech to express his gratitude for the great sacrifice made by the population of the municipality of Aalten to provide the poor of the city of Bocholt with all kinds of foodstuffs such as potatoes, flour, fat, vegetables, etc. Fourteen wagonloads had already been received, which the Aalten farmers brought to Bocholt themselves. The mayor regarded this assistance from the Dutch border residents as a sign of rapprochement toward their German neighbors.”
In Aalten, during the night from Tuesday to Wednesday, a certain H.J. Jansen had his skull crushed with an axe by his brother-in-law S. while he was already in bed. Although his condition was nearly hopeless, he was transported to Arnhem by train. On the same train, his brother-in-law, who had been arrested in Winterswijk, arrived in Aalten in handcuffs. He was taken to the town hall by constable Blom from Aalten and state constable Hendriks from Winterswijk to be interrogated.
The victim passed away in Arnhem the following night. He leaves behind a widow and six children. The brother-in-law S., the suspected perpetrator, was transferred to Zutphen on Wednesday. He is unmarried. The causes of this tragedy are family disputes.
On August 24, 1921, the District Court in Zutphen heard the case against H.H. S., a laborer from Aalten, suspected of murdering his brother-in-law H.J. Jansen with an axe in his home on or about July 25, following a party, while he was lying in bed, as a result of which his skull was split and he died a few days later.
The defendant claims to remember nothing and says he was drunk. However, on the night in question, he told one of the witnesses, a certain P.: “I did something to H. He might die.” J. was found in a small side room about 15 meters from his bedroom. In the bedroom, blood spatters were visible on the wall and the bed. The Public Prosecutor demanded a 4-year prison sentence. The defense counsel, Mr. Wildervank de Blécourt, pleaded for clemency.
The District Court in Zutphen sentenced the suspect S. to 4 years in prison, in accordance with the demand, with credit for time served in pre-trial detention.
Scheveningen
In 1922, we find H.H. S. in the penitentiary on Pompstationsweg in The Hague / Scheveningen, known for its striking gatehouse.
The striking gatehouse of the prison on Pompstationsweg in The Hague.
AALTEN, 6 May 1920 – It was a busy day for Mr G. de Vries, director of the local butter factory. Together with his assistant, Mr Kempink, he had counted out ƒ 14,094.40 into bags and stored them in the safe. The money was intended to pay the milk suppliers the following morning. At the end of the day, De Vries was the last to leave the office, locking the door behind him. However, the safe remained open, with the key still in the lock.
The next morning, the money had vanished. The only sign of a break-in was a curtain cord hanging outside the window. Although the director had locked the office door, the windows facing the street could easily be slid open from the outside.
On 7 May, the Nieuwe Aaltensche Courant reported on the theft: “Last night, a sum of ƒ 14,000 was stolen from the safe of the Aaltensche Coöp. Zuivelfabriek (Dairy Factory). At the request of the police, we are not sharing further details.”
Investigation
In the months that followed, the media remained silent. Behind the scenes, however, intense work was being carried out on this sensational case. The marechaussee in Winterswijk conducted an investigation and arrested several suspects, who later had to be released due to a lack of evidence. Subsequently, the case was reinvestigated by the national, municipal, and military police, without success. Even a national constable-detective (rijksveldwachter-rechercheur) returned home empty-handed.
Finally, the investigation was assigned to Sergeant of the Marechaussee Woerts from Zutphen. Woerts went undercover, wandering through Aalten for a time as a vagrant, staying in a lodging house, and working at a factory. After gathering a wealth of information, secret agent Woerts—Evert Jan Woerts—travelled to Germany and managed to arrange for himself to be locked in a prison alongside a person who knew more about the matter…
This also yielded valuable information, leading to the arrest of two suspects: Gerrit Jan W. (29, a bricklayer’s labourer) from Enschede, formerly a resident of Aalten, and Hendrikus P. (28, a clog maker) from Aalten.
Gerrit Jan W. from E.
Several newspapers reported on the trial, which took place in December 1920 at the court in Zutphen. Gerrit Jan W. was the first to stand trial. He testified that he and co-defendant P. had climbed in through a window and stolen the bags of money from the safe. Once outside, they placed the bags into a large jute sack and went to W.’s house to count the money. There, P. gave the defendant ƒ 110 and left with the rest of the loot, approximately ƒ 14,000. P. was supposedly going to hide the remainder in the “Schaapsche hei” (perhaps referring to the Schaarsheide?). W. had burnt the bags that previously held the money.
The defence counsel, Mr C.C. de Jonge, pointed out that the defendant was an epileptic—the defendant actually suffered a seizure during the defence—and requested an evaluation of his mental faculties. According to him, P. was the primary perpetrator and had likely enticed W. At any rate, he urged for a lighter sentence.
The Public Prosecutor praised Wachtmeester Woerts, whose investigations and tactical approach had brought this defendant to a confession. In his view, it had been shown that this accused was the least guilty. Therefore, his sentence could be lighter; the Prosecutor demanded 1½ years’ imprisonment, with time served in pre-trial detention deducted.
Hendrikus P. from A.
Next, Hendrikus P. stood trial for complicity in the same case. P., however, denied everything. He stated that he had not been at W.’s house that evening, though he had been there eight days prior. P. had an alibi for the night in question: he had been home between 10:00 and 11:00 and was asleep. The following morning, he had cycled to “Heersen” (?). P. maintained that he had nothing to do with the burglary and that W. had cast suspicion on many people in this case. He also claimed that W.’s wife was unreliable.
Witness Hendrika Geessink, W.’s wife, testified that on the evening of 6 May, co-defendant P. came to fetch her husband, saying: “Gerrit, come with me, there’s something to be had at the butter factory,” or words to that effect. Her husband had initially refused, but after P. persisted, W. eventually went along. Whether it was exactly a quarter past eleven when P. arrived and one o’clock when they returned, the witness could no longer say for certain. When they returned, the witness was in bed, but she did see money and paper bags. She did not know the exact amount.
Butter factory Aalten, c. 1915
The witness confirmed that after 6 May, the whole family went to Enschede by car. German and Dutch currency was seized from her on 17 September. She denied that it amounted to 4,000 marks. It also appeared that she had purchased various items worth ƒ 800 after 1 May. Her husband had not told her everything, because: “no husband does that!” On 16 May, she had deposited 10,000 marks at a bank in Enschede. The witness claimed that this was money honestly earned by her husband.
Despite this, the Public Prosecution Service considered it proven that P. was the most guilty in this case and demanded three years’ imprisonment. The defence, however, contested the evidence; he deemed the testimony of W.’s wife unreliable. Furthermore, he pointed out the large expenditures made by the W. family after 6 May, arguing that nothing proved P.’s guilt. Since W. was constantly working on the factory grounds, it was more likely that W. would have gone to P. to fetch him. The defence therefore requested an acquittal for P.
Verdict
On 5 January 1921, the Court in Zutphen sentenced Hendrikus P. to 2 years and Gerrit Jan W. to 6 months’ imprisonment, with pre-trial detention deducted, for theft by climbing into the Aalten butter factory.
Notably, the defendants were not ordered to repay the stolen sum. Consequently, the butter factory had to bear the loss itself. Member of Parliament Weitkamp found this peculiar and asked the Minister of Justice if he was willing to “indemnify the owners of the butter factory on behalf of the State for the great financial disadvantage suffered due to the peculiar views of a judicial official?”
The Minister, however, was of the opinion that “it has not been shown that the owners of the stolen funds suffered financial loss due to any negligence by the judicial authorities” and therefore saw no reason to consider compensation.
Gerrit de Vries, director of the butter factory in Aalten (1939)
Sources
De Nieuwe Aaltensche Courant, 7 May 1920 (Delpher)
At the end of May 1918, the first reports appeared in Dutch newspapers regarding a ‘mysterious illness’ in Spain. Although its origins likely lay elsewhere, it was soon referred to as the Spanish Flu. This pandemic held the country in its grip for nearly two years and claimed 38,000 lives. In 1920, the disease vanished as enigmatically as it had arrived.
The municipality of Aalten did not escape the Spanish Flu either. The number of fatalities here is estimated at approximately 60, out of a population of roughly 10,000 at the time.
Newspaper reports
Aalten, 16 October 1918 – “The Spanish sickness is increasing in scale in Aalten. In many households, one or more family members are confined to bed. It is also markedly noticeable in schools, where many children are absent. Consequently, the Christian school on Breedevoortsestraat has been closed. Fortunately, the illness has not yet taken a malignant course. Lung conditions have only occurred in a few individuals.” De Standaard
Cartoon from 1918–1919. Newspaper clipping, collection Scheltema
Aalten, 29 October 1918 – “The Spanish flu, which at first was sometimes spoken of jestingly, is now appearing alarmingly in places. So too here in our municipality. Among the very numerous cases, several have resulted in death, sometimes so suddenly that people pass away within a few days. Indeed, the number of reported deaths at the town hall here has never been as high in a single day as was the case yesterday, when no fewer than eleven death certificates were filed. There is general widespread sympathy for the households where death has made such an unexpected entrance.”
Bredevoort, 29 October 1918 – “Whereas until now the Spanish flu was actually only known by name here, as people were recovered within a couple of days, it has now become quite different and has taken on a more serious character. Already several victims have died of this illness, while many are seriously ill. The public school was closed yesterday (Monday morning).” Aaltensche Courant
Aalten, 5 November 1918 – “The flu continues to rage here with the same severity and claim its victims. Yesterday, four persons in this municipality died of the disease.” De Graafschapper
Aalten, 20 February 1919– “In the municipality of Aalten, the Spanish flu has now broken out for the third time. The illness has been confirmed in many families, with some cases already resulting in death.” Arnhemsche Courant
Aalten, 5 March 1919– “The Spanish flu continues to demand sacrifices in Aalten. The number of cases remains significantly high, while numerous deaths occur.” Arnhemsche Courant
Miracle Cures
Entrepreneurs also saw commercial opportunities and sold all kinds of remedies for the flu, such as ‘Abbey Syrup’, which was essentially nothing more than sugar water with cinnamon. Other promoted treatments included “sublimate injections, fumigations with nitrous acid, eucalyptus oil, sugar beets…”
Advertisement in De Graafschapper, 27 December 1918
