Dutch Descent

31/03/2026

Love in Wartime: The Wedding Boom of 1941–1942

In the thick of World War II, amid occupation, shortages, and a future that seemed to shrink by the day, you wouldn’t expect a rush to the altar. Yet that’s exactly what happened in the Netherlands. Between 1941 and 1942, marriages spiked noticeably. A wave of romance? Not exactly. Think of it as love meeting logistics.

Wartime compresses time. Couples who might have waited suddenly faced an unpredictable horizon. With the German occupation tightening, the idea of postponing marriage felt risky. Separation, displacement, or worse hovered in the background. Getting married became a way to claim a small piece of certainty.

Then came a decidedly unromantic motivator: avoiding forced labor in Germany. From 1942 onward, unmarried men were more vulnerable to being sent away. Marriage and especially parenthood could sometimes delay that fate. Not the stuff of fairy tales, but persuasive enough to turn hesitations into hurried proposals.

Practical benefits added to the momentum. Married couples could pool ration cards, improve their chances of securing housing, and gain legal clarity in a world where rules shifted constantly. Nothing says commitment like navigating potatoes, paperwork, and scarcity together.

Social norms played their part too. Premarital pregnancy often led to marriage regardless; wartime simply sped up the process. Engagements shortened, ceremonies became more urgent, and families adjusted to the new pace.

By 1943, the tide turned. Conditions worsened, shortages deepened, and survival overshadowed celebration. The brief boom faded as daily life became more about endurance than milestones.

So was it a love story? In its way. But more than that, the wedding surge of 1941–1942 reveals something deeply human: the instinct to create stability, to formalize bonds, to choose each other when the world feels anything but stable.

24/03/2026

Married, Divorced… on a Loop

Modern relationships can be messy, but couples in the 20th‑century Netherlands faced a whole different level of complication. Breaking up and reconciling wasn’t just emotional, it was an administrative obstacle course.

For starters, divorce was no simple “we grew apart.” Under the Dutch Civil Code of 1838, someone had to be officially at fault (usually for adultery) before a judge would even consider dissolving a marriage.

Religion added another layer. In a pillarized society, the Roman Catholic Church strongly discouraged divorce. So even if a couple split legally, they might still feel spiritually tied, which made reunions surprisingly common.

Then there was the social stigma. Being divorced could raise eyebrows faster than cycling on the wrong side of the street. Remarrying your ex offered a tidy way to restore respectability and avoid awkward church‑hall conversations.

Practicality mattered too. Before the welfare state expanded, living alone (especially for women who had the kids living with her) was financially tough. Sometimes reconciliation was less about rekindled romance and more about sharing rent and groceries.

And of course, World War II scrambled countless lives. Couples were separated, displaced, or forced into survival mode. Reuniting afterward could feel like reclaiming a life interrupted.

By the 1970s, laws eased and society relaxed. But before then, marrying the same person twice wasn’t indecision, it was determination.

18/03/2026

Til Death (and Your Sister) Do Us Part

If you think your family gatherings are complicated, wait until you hear about the very Dutch habit, at least historically, of widowers marrying their late wife’s sister. Yes, really. And no, it wasn’t because Tinder hadn’t been invented yet.
For more than a century, from 1838 to 1939, Dutch civil law technically forbade a man from marrying his deceased wife’s sister. But here’s the twist: the government handed out royal dispensations for these marriages like stroopwafels at a street market. So while the law said “no,” the king often said “sure, go ahead.”

Why did this happen so often?
Because life back then was practical. If a man lost his wife, he still had a household to run, children to raise, cows to milk, and absolutely no time to audition new candidates. His sister‑in‑law, on the other hand, already knew the kids, the rhythms of the home, and probably how to make the family’s favorite meal. It was continuity, convenience, and compassion all rolled into one. There was also the matter of keeping property and farms intact. Marrying within the extended family meant the land stayed where everyone wanted it—in the family—instead of being chopped up or drifting away through remarriage.

By 1939, the Netherlands finally shrugged and said, “You know what? Let’s stop pretending this is forbidden” and abolished the ban entirely.
So next time someone says Dutch culture is all bicycles and tulips, remind them that it also includes a long, practical, and slightly eyebrow‑raising history of keeping it in the family; legally, lovingly, and with royal approval.

10/03/2026

Married to a glove

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, marriage by proxy became an important solution for couples separated by the vast distance between the Netherlands and the Dutch East Indies (modern-day Indonesia). Travel between Europe and Southeast Asia could take several weeks by sea, and many Dutch men working in the colonial administration, military, or private companies were unable to return home to marry. As a result, Dutch law allowed a marriage ceremony to take place even when one partner was absent, through a legal representative.

In these cases, the bride typically remained in the Netherlands while the groom was stationed in the Indies. The groom would issue a formal authorization, often in the form of a power of attorney, allowing another person to stand in for him at the wedding ceremony. This representative, a relative, friend, or legal official, would take the groom’s place before the civil registrar when the marriage was formally concluded. Dutch civil law required the ceremony to be registered by local authorities to ensure its legal validity.

Marriage by proxy reflected the realities of colonial society. Many European men established careers in the Indies as civil servants, soldiers, plantation managers, or employees of trading companies. These men often preferred to marry women from the Netherlands rather than locally in the colony. Proxy marriage allowed them to form a legally recognized union without interrupting their employment or undertaking the long and expensive journey back to Europe.

Once the marriage had been officially recorded, it was common for the bride to travel to the Indies to join her husband. This journey marked a major life transition, as many women left their families and familiar surroundings in the Netherlands to begin married life in a very different social and climatic environment. The practice therefore highlights both the legal mechanisms and the personal experiences that shaped family life within the Dutch colonial world.

03/03/2026

Why Dutch Grooms Showed Up Late (and Older)

Most Dutch couples married someone within about five years of their own age, so when a consistency checker tool in a genealogical program flags a marriage with a much larger age gap, it can look like a mistake. Yet those wider gaps weren’t necessarily errors. They reflect a long‑standing pattern in Dutch society: men often married later than women because they first had to prove they could support a household.

A young man might have to wait years to inherit the family farm, complete his apprenticeship, or save enough to rent a home. After 1811, military conscription added another layer of uncertainty. A man could be drafted, held in reserve, or denied permission to marry by his commanding officers. Poor‑relief boards discouraged marriage if a man’s income was unstable, and families often insisted that sons finish their service before setting up a household. All of this pushed men’s marriage ages upward.

Women, by contrast, could marry much earlier. Their contribution to a household was labour rather than capital, and a young bride meant many years of work and childbearing ahead. In rural areas, where farms passed from father to son late in life, the pattern was even more pronounced: a man might only inherit in his thirties and then marry a woman in her late teens. Widowers remarrying younger women widened the gap further.

Underlying these choices was a cultural expectation that an older husband brought authority and stability, while a younger wife brought adaptability and obedience. In small villages with limited partner choice, these expectations hardened into custom creating age gaps that look unusual today but made perfect sense at the time.

24/02/2026

Even the Pavement Has a Past

Tomorrow I’ll be travelling to Leiden for the reveal of the Stolpersteine dedicated to one gentleman and three families across 4 locations who lost their lives during the Second World War. It’s just a small ceremony, but attending reaffirms we remember the past and that their lives touched ours.

Across the Netherlands, you can be walking to the bakery or cycling to work when a glint of brass catches your eye. These small squares called Stolpersteine (stumbling stones) sit quietly in front of homes where Jewish residents and other victims of N**i persecution once lived. They’re easy to miss, yet impossible to forget once seen.

More than 8,000 Stolpersteine now lie embedded in Dutch streets, forming a decentralized memorial woven into everyday life. Each stone carries a name, a birth year, and a fate. They are a simple reminder that history unfolded right here, on this doorstep, in this neighbourhood. What makes the Stolpersteine so powerful is their intimacy. You pause, read a name, and realize these were people with routines and families, but their stories live beneath our feet.

And in a world marked by rising tensions and shifting geopolitical realities, their relevance feels sharper than ever. These stones urge us to stay alert to the lessons of the past. They remind us how quickly rights can erode, how easily people can be singled out, and how vital it is to defend human dignity wherever it’s threatened.

The Stolpersteine ask us to pause, look down and remember, but also to look up again with greater awareness. Memory isn’t just about honouring those who were lost; it’s about shaping how we move forward.

More info:

What are Stolpersteine? Stolpersteine, are made since 1992 by the artist Gunter Demnig (link). They are brass stones with which we commemorate the victims of National Socialism around and during the Second World War. The brass Stolpersteine ​​is therefore placed in the pavement for the last (fre...

17/02/2026

When your last name is basically your CV

For centuries, many occupations were controlled by guilds. These were formal organisations that regulated who could practice a trade, the quality of the work, training and apprenticeships, prices and competition.
Because guild membership was limited and often expensive, families tended to keep the trade 'in-house'. A master carpenter's child had a far easier path to becoming a carpenter than an outsider. In some cities, guilds even preferred or required sons to inherit their father's place.
This created a natural pipeline: profession => family identity => surname => generational continuity.

It's no coincidence that names like Bakker, Visser, Smid, and Timmerman became hereditary. The guild system made these trades stable, regulated, and often dynastic.

By contrast, free professions, e.g. scholars, clergy, physicians, lawyers, and later merchants, were not controlled by guilds. They required education, literacy, social networks, financial means.
These professions also passed down through families, but for different reasons: educated parents could afford to educate their children, social status opened doors, family libraries, connections, and expectations shaped career paths. Here, inheritance was cultural and economic, not forced by a guild.

So when you trace your ancestors'professions, guild trades often show tight continuity, i.e. the same craft for generations, and free professions show continuity through privilege, i.e. education and status passed down even if the exact job shifts.

10/02/2026

The Ancestor Who Won Bingo

Every genealogist has one of these ancestors.
Mine is Pieter.
Born in 1821 in a village so small it was basically a field. His father couldn’t write. Pieter couldn’t write. The priest probably had a special “X-only” quill.
Married at 25 and by 40 he had enough kids to field multiple sports teams. His jobs? Labourer, peat cutter, and once just “worker,” which is historical code for “permanently exhausted.” His name shows up as: Pieter Janssen, Pieter Jansen, Peter Janzn, and once just Piet. He appears in a military register—not because he was heroic, but because he had legs and therefore was eligible. His first wife dies young. He remarries at record speed because someone had to keep the household from collapsing. Two children die young. One son moves 40 kilometers away and becomes the “distant branch” of the family. Then he pops up in poor relief records, as if he’s determined to hit every category.

And that’s when it clicks: Pieter didn’t just live a life; he completed the entire Ancestor Bingo card:
- Illiterate
- Huge family
- Name spelled like a Scrabble accident
- Second marriage
- Child loss
- Backbreaking labour
- Military service
- Tiny migration
- Poverty

And the funny part? Pieter isn’t rare, he’s the pattern.
Stack enough Pieters together and you don’t just get a family tree, you get history.

03/02/2026

Count own to RootsTech 2026 - Join in the fun

If you’re interested in genealogy then attending RootsTech 2026 Online (https://www.familysearch.org/en/rootstech/registration) is worth attending, whether you’re a beginner or a seasoned researcher.
Why join?
- Attending online is free, you just need to register with a FamilySearch.org account (also free).
- Even though the event itself is held from March 5-7 in the US Timezone, you can (re)watch and pause the online sessions whenever it's convenient to you as they will be archived.
- Access to hundreds of sessions from beginner to advanced level in various languages on all types of topics.
- Explore new tools without sales pressure as most of the 'big players' are represented and will talk about how their tools can help you, new features and developments, etc.
- Connect with a global community through the chat function in general, in the sessions, and/or join in the Relatives at RootsTech feature.

Relatives at RootsTech (https://www.familysearch.org/en/help/helpcenter/article/relatives-at-rootstech-faq) is a popular feature amongst the attendees for which you can opt-in and which allows attendees of the annual RootsTech conference to discover how they are related to other registered participants.
By matching family trees, it identifies shared ancestors and connects users who are (often) cousins.
It compares your FamilySearch Family Tree with other attendees' trees, it will generate a list of cousins, allowing you to see the common ancestor and the relationship path, and it provides a way to message and connect with other users.

Note that the Relatives at RootsTech feature will only be available to a limited time (typically shortly before and for a short time after the conference), and you will still need to verify the link to other relatives through paper trails. However, it has proven to be extremely helpful in discovering branches on your tree you may not have known about yet.

27/01/2026

What DNA Ethnicity Results Actually Mean

DNA ethnicity results aren’t identity statements. They’re statistical estimates comparing your DNA to reference populations built from people with deep regional roots.

Companies analyze your genome in small segments, match each to the closest reference group, and combine those probabilities into percentages. Because methods and reference panels differ, results vary between companies. A segment labeled “Irish” by one might be “Northwestern European” by another, so these are different interpretations, not contradictions.

Broad categories (like continental groups) are generally reliable. Fine‑grained regions, modern country labels, and tiny percentages under 3–5% are far less stable. These can shift as companies update their data and algorithms, even though your DNA stays the same.
Ethnicity estimates are best understood as informed guesses about ancestral origins—not definitive truths.

And siblings often receive different percentages because they inherit different DNA combinations. To confirm full‑sibling relationships, rely on shared DNA (centimorgans), not ethnicity estimates.

In short: your DNA is fixed; ethnicity estimates are fluid.

20/01/2026

When the Records Reveal a Family Tragedy

Sometimes the archives confront you with a story that stops you in your tracks. You’re tracing an ordinary family with seven children when you suddenly notice that the four youngest all die on the same day. It’s the kind of detail that makes you wonder about what happened. Could it have been a disease, accident, drowning, fire or storm?

If you’re investigating a specific case, newspapers remain your best source of information. When four deaths occur on the same day, local papers almost always mention it. By combining the family’s surname with the exact date of death, you search the newspaper databases for any mention of an accident or event that might explain this tragedy.

In this case, a petroleum lamp had fallen on the ground floor of the family’s home, igniting a fire that spread with terrifying speed through the largely wooden structure. The residents on the ground floor managed to escape into the garden. The family living on the first floor fled into the street. But on the second floor, where the seven children lived with their parents, only the three oldest were able to reach safety. The youngest four were already in bed, and the flames advanced too quickly for anyone to save them. Even the arrival of the fire brigade could not change the outcome.

Full article in Dutch here: https://resolver.kb.nl/resolve?urn=ddd:010166926:mpeg21:a0090 (Warning: triggering language)

13/01/2026

Common Beginner Mistakes in Genealogy (and how to avoid them)

Starting genealogy in the Netherlands can feel like winning the archival lottery. Civil registration from 1811, population registers, church books, etc. And yet, things can go wrong remarkably quickly.

Be careful with names. Some names are very common, e.g. there are so many men named Jan Bosch in my own tree, that you cannot only look at the name, but have to combine it with the right village at roughly the right time, name of spouse, etc. Ages, occupations, and addresses can help you far more to determine you have identified the right person. The witnesses at a marriage or birth can also give you clues as to family relationships.

Then there is the modern temptation to copy online family trees. Some are excellent. Many are not. Errors spread faster than correct information, and once a mistake is copied ten times, it starts to look convincing. Original records remain your best friends.

Finally, we often project modern ideas onto the past. We expect people to marry for love, move freely, and avoid marrying relatives. In 19th-century Netherlands, practical considerations mattered more than romance, villages were small, and cousin marriage was not unusual.
Good genealogy is less about speed and more about patience.

Slow down, read carefully, and enjoy the process. After all, your ancestors have waited a long time so they won’t mind if you take a little longer to get them right.