This is the story of the reclamation of the former Middelzee ‘Middle Sea’ in the Netherlands. A shallow inland sea that used to cut present-day province of Friesland into two. Separating the shires Westrachia (present-day Westergo) and Austrachia (present-day Oostergo) from each other. Hence the name Middle Sea. It was a process of centuries to heal this scar. And, after the salt water of the sea had been driven out, immigrants poured in. The relevant and current mind-boggling and hot-debated question is: have these settlers integrated into society?
An inland sea neutralized
Although Roman soldier Plinius (or Pliny) the Elder already felt pity for the barbaric tribes in the north in the first century, because of the extremely wet and cold living conditions (check out our blog post The shipwrecked people of the salt marshes to know what exactly Plinius said), it were actually the third and fourth centuries, that were tumultuous climate-wise. During this period much of the flat marshlands of the terp region (a terp being an artificial dwelling mound or platform) became uninhabitable, and the peoples living there massively resettled themselves elsewhere. Leading to the much debated habitation-gap of the terp region, although this is mainly a dialogue among Frisian scholars. Sccholars perhaps with a kind of phantom pain who worry about a lesser age of the Frisian people. Some historians speak of this empty period as:
The time you only could hear the seagulls cry.
It was also the time the Middle Sea was born. This shallow sea became the new estuary of the small river Boorne or, in local Mid-Frisian language, Boarn. Hence why the inland sea was known as Bordine (sometimes called Bordne or Bordena as well) in the eighth century. The river Boorne has two more names, namely Ouddiep and Koningsdiep. The first meaning ‘old deep’ and the latter meaning ‘king river’. This river has its origin more than 10,000 year back. Read also our blog post The Boarn supremacy to learn more about this slow flowing river and inland sea, and also about the catastrophic battle of the Frisian King Poppo against the Franks that took place here in the eighth century.
The inland-sea Bordine is furthermore a historical place because it was at its shores, between the shires Westergo and Oostergo, where the already in his own time prominent Anglo-Saxon archbishop Saint Boniface was murdered in the summer of 735. It was here, and not in Dokkum or in Dunkirk as sometimes even is suggested, where Saint Boniface set up his encampment and where he was attacked and murdered. The shores of the old Bordine were long and there is no historical data available to further pinpoint the scene of the crime. Everything said here is according to his near contemporary Wilibald of Mainsz who wrote about Saint Boniface’s life in the second half of the eighth century.
In the world of nature nothing is sustainable and nothing is durable. At the end of the first millennium the sea pushed itself into the treeless salt marshes once more and threatened to deteriorate the environmental living conditions again. The Christmas flood of 838 submerged much of Frisia and killed several thousands of people in the process, and might be considered the prelude of a more aggressive sea-era. But this time the (new) Frisians stubbornly decided to stand their soft clay-ground and not to emigrate as their predecessors had done.
The essence of this saying is: a great flood is the kind of event water-engineers need from time to time to keep things moving ahead. Indeed, the Frisians started to build circular and higher dikes to protect their land at the end of the first millennium. Step by step they took back land from the sea, and made a showcase for the rest of the world how serious reclamation of land is actually being done. And it was not only subduing the inland sea Bordine. All over in Frisia, especially in shire Westergo, delta works avant la lettre were being carried out simultaneously. Read also our blog post The mother of all dikes with more information about this water management endeavor in shire Westergo. Soon, the (East) Frisians would migrate to the islands and coast of what is now Nordfriesland to export their skills to this region in Germany, just south of the Danish border. Read our blog post The Beacons of Nordfriesland post about this migration wave.
In a nutshell: Frisians started to move more earth than the sea did. Every day of the year. Deus mare, Friso litora fecit ‘God created the sea, the Frisian the coast’ therefore is the saying, and often corrupted by others. Yes, success has many fathers, and failure is an orphan.
After another even greater flood, the Saint Lucia’s flood of 1287, killing a staggering estimated 50,000 to 80,000 people along the southern coast of the North Sea and hitting province Friesland notably hard, an enclosure dam or dike was built between the terp villages Beetgum in shire Westergo and Britsum in the shire Oostergo. With this enclosure dam the reclamation of the Bordine inland sea was more or less halfway at ca. 1300. But north of this dike there was still a big chunk of inter-tidal marshland that had to be reclaimed: an area called Bil. Reclaiming Bil, or killing Bil, would be the apotheosis. An apotheosis that took even longer than that of Hollywood movie sequel Kill Bill.
August 11, 1398. Arent of Egmond became lord of the Wadden-Sea island Ameland, and of an “uytlant gheheten Bil dat aengheworpen is buten dycs ende gelegen is tusschen Mynaertsga end Sint Mariengaerde” freely translated as: a tidal marshland called Bil that has been created outside the dykes and is located between the village Minnertsga and the abbey Saint Mariengaarde. Sint Mariengaarde being the former abbey near the village of Hallum.
So, the silted-up clay, or tidal marshland, in the remaining mouth of the Bordine sea was named Bil. Today it is called ‘t Bildt’ which is a combination of the Dutch words ‘bil’ and ‘land’. Sounds a bit like the Danish Legoland capital ‘Billund’. The Dutch word ‘bil’ is related to the Dutch word ‘bol’ and to the English/German word ‘ball’ and ‘Ball’. Expressing something that is round and elevated from the surrounding area. So, the round-elevated (tidal marshland) land. ‘Bil‘ in modern Dutch language means ‘buttock’, but this aside and please forget we mentioned it in the first place.
A century after Bil was given to nobleman Arent of Egmond, money was brought together to pull Bil out of the sea’s firm embrace. Besides being a showcase it was going to be a business case as well. In the year 1505 an enclosure dike of more than 14 kilometers long was erected between the location Dijkshoek in the west, and Hallumerhoek in the east. It secured more than 5,000 hectares of fertile salt marshes. The dike is still there, and is called Oudebildtdijk, meaning ‘old Bildt-dike’. The work was (probably) completed within a few years, and it really was an unprecedented achievement in world water management.
In the year 1600, north of Oudebildtdijk, a new 13 kilometers long dike was erected between De Westhoek in the west, and the village Nieuwe Bildtzijl in the east. This time securing nearly 2,000 hectares of fresh, green land from the sea. This dike is also still there to be admired, and is called Nieuwebildtdijk, meaning ‘new Bildt-dyke’. Yes, the names do not compete for the creativity price, but it was all very organized. In fact, in many respects the whole enterprise from the year 1505 onward, was extremely organized and rational. The allotment of land and of farms, the straight canals, the trenches, the water locks, the location of villages et cetera. It was all symmetrical and well planned. In fact, the polder (i.e. reclaimed land from the sea) Oude Bildt became the role model for the polders to come, in the Low Countries, and worldwide. That includes the UNESCO-listed polder De Beemster in province Noord Holland. That polder was established a bit later in 1612 with the same rational planning. Why polder De Beemster is UNESCO listed and not the real McCoy polder ‘t Bildt, we have not got the foggiest idea. Maybe, because it is closer to the capitol Amsterdam.
The tamers of wild Bil
Who were the people of this last frontier? Who tamed wild Bil? It were not all Uma Thurmans. But it were not solely Frisian workers either. No, it were cowboys from all over the Netherlands who emigrated to the new, fertile land in the north. Especially from (the islands of) provinces Zuid Holland and Zeeland. These early labor-migrants settled and stayed.
Let’s turn to the question of this blog post: did these immigrants integrate into local society or not? Well, it depends on the definition of integration you use. Do not get mad at us or desperate because of this sloppy and bureaucratic answer, but give us a moment to explain.
If it is economic mobility and participation you put first when it comes to integration, then yes, they did integrate. Albeit, things did not go easy. The working class, so to speak, was exploited by the new Frisian and Saxon landowners of ‘t Bildt. The farmers, and especially the landowners, earned lots and lots of money from the rich crops of this fertile land and, of course, by not paying the workers too much either. Resulting in not only extreme poverty of workers over the course of the nineteenth century, but also in the highest level of secularization in the Low Countries. Following in the footsteps of the heathen mob that killed Saint Boniface nearby many centuries ago. Regarding their integration, people took and still take part in the local economy. Oh, and even one of the most famous Dutch painters, Rembrandt van Rijn, married Saskia van Uylenburgh, a rich girl from region ‘t Bildt in the village of Sint Annaparochie in the year 1634. Well, if that is not integration we do not know what is?
If it is adopting the ruling language and embracing of local values you are looking for first when it comes to integration of newcomers, then the answer is no. Till this day the Bildtker (viz. someone from the area ‘t Bildt) speaks a different, creole language that is neither Frisian nor Dutch. And, of course, the almost heathen and early secular nature still shows. Yes, the Bildtkers even advocate that their language will be recognized as an official minority language. That is, you could argue, the opposite of integration, namely: creating as a group of immigrants your own language and subsequently strive to get it recognized as an official language as well. And, we are not sure either if the Bildtkers would not flunk the Dutch integration exam which is compulsory for immigrants today. On the other hand, these Bildtkers seem to manage quite well with the rest of the Netherlands’ population.
Therefore, we leave the fuzzy verdict whether the Bildtkers are ‘integrated’ or ‘not integrated’ with you! And to be clear, of course, this is not a generalization concerning the current integration and migration debates.
Note 1: The father of Saskia, Rombertus van Uylenburgh, and major of Leeuwarden, was present at scene of the crime when William of Orange was murdered in Leiden in 1584. Rembrandt’s father-in-law. Read our blog post The Abbey of Egmond and the rise of the Gerulfings to learn more about it.
Note 2: If you want to learn more about the history of ‘t Bildt, now incorporated with other municipalities into the new municipality Waadhoeke, go to the cultural historic house annex church Aerden Plaats in the beautiful village of Oude Bildtzijl (meaning: ‘old Blidt’s sluice’).
Note 3: The Frisia Coast Trail passes through ‘t Bildt and you will have the chance to get an impression of how Bil looked like before it was reclaimed in the sixteenth century. Even have a feel how it walked like!
Suggestions for further reading:
- Ferwerda, L., Een uytland gheheten Bil, 1398-2005. De geskidenis fan de gemeente ‘t Bildt (2005)
- Looijenga, A. & Popkema, A. & Slofstra, B., Een meelijwekkend volk. Vreemden over Friezen van de oudheid tot de kerstening (2017)
- Louman, J.P.A., Fries Waterstaatbestuur. Een geschiedenis van de waterbeheersing in Friesland vanaf het midden van de achttiende eeuw tot omstreeks 1970 (2007)
- Schroor, M., Van Middelzee tot Bildt. Landaanwinning in Fryslân in de Middeleeuwen en de vroegmoderne tijd (2000)
- Tuuk, van der L. (red), Bonifatius in Dorestad. De evangeliebrenger van de Lage Landen – 716 (2016)