Dutch Australian Genealogy Group

13/01/2026

10/01/2026

09/01/2026

In de registers van de burgerlijke stand worden alle huwelijken ingeschreven. Niet alleen die van de groenteboer of van de winkeldame, maar ook het huwelijk van een prinses of koningin der Nederlanden.

Op 7 januari 1937, vandaag 89 jaar geleden, treedt de 27-jarige prinses Juliana – of zoals ze voluit in de akte wordt genoemd: ‘Hare Koninklijke Hoogheid Prinses Juliana Louise Emma Marie Wilhelmina der Nederlanden, Prinses van Oranje-Nassau, Hertogin van Mecklenburg, enzovoorts, enzovoorts’ – in het huwelijk met de twee jaar jongere prins Bernhard Leopold Frederik Everhard Julius Coert Karel Godfried Pieter van Lippe-Biesterfeld: https://www.wiewaswie.nl/nl/detail/106633649

Nadat het kersverse echtpaar de huwelijksakte heeft ondertekend, zetten ook hun beider moeders en de acht getuigen hun handtekening. Onder wie Aschwin zur Lippe-Biesterfeld, een jongere broer van prins Bernhard, en Johan Huizinga, hoogleraar geschiedenis aan de Universiteit van Leiden en erepromotor van prinses Juliana.

Afb: Trouwfoto van prinses Juliana en prins Bernhard met hun moeders, koningin Wilhelmina (rechts) en Armgard prinses Van Lippe-Biesterfeld (links), 7 januari 1937. Nationaal Archief / Ondertekening van de huwelijksakte door het bruidspaar en hun acht getuigen, 7 januari 1937. Haags Gemeentearchief

24/12/2025

In the Netherlands, even hospitality has its own quiet rules — and one of the most recognizable is coffee with exactly one cookie.
When you visit a Dutch home, you are almost guaranteed to be offered a cup of coffee. Alongside it comes a single biscuit, carefully placed on a small plate. Not two. Not a handful. Just one. To outsiders it may seem almost humorous, but for the Dutch it reflects something much deeper than stinginess.
This tradition is rooted in values of modesty, practicality, and social equality. Historically, especially in Protestant households, excess was discouraged. Offering one cookie was polite and welcoming, without being extravagant or showy. It created a moment of hospitality without pressure, debt, or expectation. Everyone received the same, and no one felt obliged to overindulge.
Over time, the habit became cultural instinct. Even today, in modern living rooms with espresso machines and designer mugs, the ritual survives. Coffee. One cookie. Conversation. The focus is never on the food itself, but on the time spent together. The cookie is a gesture, not a feast.
The Dutch way of hosting is quiet, efficient, and honest. No excess, no performance — just warmth expressed in moderation. And somehow, that single cookie says more than a full table ever could.

19/12/2025

During the Dutch Golden Age, warfare was redesigned — with geometry.

Across Europe and the expanding overseas empire, Dutch engineers became masters of a new kind of fortification: the star fort. These angular, star-shaped strongholds were not built for beauty. They were built to survive cannon fire.

Traditional medieval walls had proven useless against gunpowder artillery. High, straight stone walls shattered under sustained bombardment. The solution was mathematical. By lowering walls, thickening earthworks, and extending sharp bastions outward, engineers created fortresses that could absorb impact and return fire from multiple angles.

The Dutch refined this system to near perfection.

In Asia, Africa, and the Americas, the VOC and the Dutch state constructed star forts to secure trade routes, ports, and colonial cities. From Fort Belgica on Banda Neira to Fort Zeelandia in Taiwan, from Elmina Castle’s later modifications on the Gold Coast to Nieuw Amsterdam’s defensive works, the same principles appeared again and again.

Every angle had a purpose. Bastions eliminated blind spots. Moats slowed attackers. Earthen ramparts absorbed cannonballs far better than stone. Any enemy approaching the walls could be fired upon from at least two directions at once. Siege warfare became a deadly calculation — and Dutch engineers were excellent mathematicians.

These forts were also tools of control. They protected warehouses, harbors, and administrative centers. They intimidated local populations. They allowed relatively small garrisons to dominate far larger regions. A well-designed star fort could hold out for months, even against superior numbers.

The influence of Dutch military engineering spread far beyond the Republic. The “trace italienne” style was adapted and perfected by Dutch builders and exported worldwide through trade, war, and empire. Today, satellite images still reveal their unmistakable star shapes carved into coastlines and landscapes across the globe.

What looks like elegant symmetry from above was, on the ground, a machine for survival and domination. The Dutch Golden Age was built not only on ships and commerce, but on angles, measurements, and earth piled with purpose.

18/12/2025

In the Netherlands, December doesn’t begin with stockings — it begins with shoes.

As Sinterklaas approaches, Dutch children carefully place a shoe by the fireplace, radiator, or door before going to bed. Inside, they might slip a drawing, a wish note… and very often a carrot.

Not for Sinterklaas himself — but for his horse.

This tradition goes back centuries and predates modern Christmas customs. Sinterklaas, based on Saint Nicholas of Myra, was already celebrated in the Low Countries in the Middle Ages. According to folklore, he travels over rooftops at night, riding his white horse, stopping at homes to reward good children.

The shoe was practical. Unlike stockings, which came later through Anglo-American influence, shoes were everyday objects everyone owned. Leaving one out was simple, symbolic, and accessible to all families.

Children believed that during the night, Sinterklaas would pass by, feed his horse with the carrot or hay left behind, and leave something small in return: candy, chocolate letters, pepernoten, or a tiny gift. In the morning, the carrot would be gone — proof that the visit had been real.

This wasn’t a one-night event. In the weeks leading up to December 5th, children were often allowed to put out their shoes multiple times, building anticipation night after night. Each small surprise reinforced the magic.

The ritual also carried a lesson. Giving something first — even to a horse — mattered. Kindness and generosity were rewarded. Behavior counted.

Today, the tradition is still alive. Even in modern apartments without fireplaces, shoes appear by radiators, doors, or staircases. Parents quietly continue the ritual. Children still wake up early to check.

Long before stockings, elves, or sleighs, the Dutch taught their children to believe in magic through something simple: a shoe, a carrot, and the promise that someone was watching.

18/12/2025

Dutch children consistently rank among the happiest in the world — and that is no coincidence.

In multiple international comparisons, including well-known UNICEF reports, children in the Netherlands score exceptionally high on overall well-being. Not because of wealth alone, but because of how childhood itself is structured.

Freedom plays a central role. Dutch children are encouraged to explore independence early. Walking or cycling to school alone, playing outside without constant supervision, visiting friends freely — these experiences build confidence rather than fear. Trust is woven into daily life.

Outdoor play is not optional. It is normal. Rain does not cancel plans. Neighborhoods are designed with sidewalks, bike paths, playgrounds, and safe public spaces where children belong. Time outside is seen as essential, not a luxury.

Education reflects the same philosophy. Academic pressure is comparatively low in early years. Homework is limited. Standardized testing starts later than in many countries. The focus is on balance — learning, play, rest, and social development moving together instead of competing.

Family time matters. Evenings are predictable. Dinner together is common. Children know what to expect, and stability creates security. Success is not defined by endless competition, but by growing up healthy, capable, and content.

Dutch culture does not romanticize stress. Being “busy” is not a badge of honor for children. Emotional well-being is taken seriously. Listening, talking, and setting boundaries are seen as strengths, not weaknesses.

The result is visible. Children who feel safe. Who are allowed to be bored. Who are trusted. Who grow up believing the world is something to explore, not something to fear.

Happiness, in the Netherlands, is not treated as a reward for achievement. It is treated as the foundation of childhood.