history

Willem Writs, a Driving Force of Dutch Culture in 18th-Century Amsterdam

The Dutch had little sense of culture, and that had to change, according to the country’s first cultural entrepreneurs. Influenced by the new Enlightenment ideals, they established numerous cultural and scientific societies in the eighteenth century. Willem Writs, inventor and founder of Felix Meritis in Amsterdam, was one of them.

If anyone had an eye for the beauty of Amsterdam, it was the draughtsman, engraver, clockmaker, mechanical engineer and inventor Willem Writs (1732-1786). As a true Amsterdammer, no detail escaped his artistic eye. Take, for example, his engraving of the Rokin from 1770. A horse pulls a carriage over the Lange Brug, while a boatman uses a long pole to push a towboat through the shallow water. On the quay, a labourer rolls barrels of beer towards the waterfront. Two men are engaged in conversation, while a woman strolls down the street with her young daughter. Even the Amsterdam seagulls are present, circling and screeching above the water. Writs made dozens of these cityscapes, knew Amsterdam inside out and therefore knew exactly what the city was missing.

But the draughtsman dreamed big, and capturing images alone did not satisfy him. As a child of the Enlightenment, he wanted to leave the world a better place than he had found it. What was missing in the bustling trading city, where everything revolved around money, was a cultural and scientific centre for the inquisitive urbanite.

Although the name Writs does not ring a bell for most people today, everyone is familiar with the impressive Felix Meritis building on Keizersgracht, an icon of eighteenth-century neoclassicism, designed by Jacob Otten Husly and built in 1788.

Felix Meritis was a society, a kind of evening school where adults could develop their skills in drawing, physics, commerce, music or literature. It was the brainchild of the exceptionally intelligent Willem Writs, who came from a liberal middle-class background and had moved in intellectual and artistic circles from an early age. Jurriaan Andriessen, a talented wallpaper painter, portrayed him in 1766, when he was around 35 years old.

Merchants and tradesmen like Writs typically began working at the age of eleven or twelve, while children from lower social classes started as early as eight. Compulsory education did not exist in the eighteenth century, nor did a national education plan. Once they reached adulthood, many citizens craved more general, cultural and scientific knowledge.

For these men (as women were not allowed to join), Writs founded the society Sapientia et Libertate in 1771. In 1777, this society was dissolved and replaced by the newly established Felix Meritis. The name meant “happy through merit”, a typically Enlightenment perspective. Because happiness was worldly happiness. And for the enlightened human being, this was not determined by God, birth or wealth, but by their own achievements.

At its core, the Enlightenment movement was characterised by optimism and the belief that society could be shaped. Enlightened thinkers like Writs envisioned a better, more humane future with greater freedom and equality for more people. They fought against superstition and corruption and advocated for a democratic constitutional state based on the pursuit of truth. Reliable knowledge was crucial to all these matters. From 1700 onwards, such secular views gained ground. They stood in direct opposition to the doctrine of predestination held by the devoutly religious Netherlands. It was from this circle that Writs and his society faced resistance:

“It is now FELIX MERITIS,
Or happy through merit,
He who shows himself wise
Sees his diligence, most unexpectedly,
Crowned with fortune and honour;
If this doctrine, in every way,
Does not align exactly with Biblical teachings,
Why should anyone care?”

Hundreds of societies civilise the Netherlands

Writs was not the first to establish such a society. He was inspired by an eighteenth-century society model that, since 1752, had proven successful in turning the cultural and economic tide. For, over the course of the century, the Dutch Republic had lost its international power and trading position. The economy slowly collapsed, and when the country, after a long period without a stadtholder, was once again led by one in 1747, he could not resolve the problems either. Many Dutch cities suffered severely under the economic malaise. The urban elite watched this decline with dismay. How could they restore the seventeenth-century national morals, virtues and thus prosperity?

By intervening and spreading knowledge! With this goal in mind, a number of notables in Haarlem founded the Koninklijke Hollandsche Maatschappij der Wetenschappen (Royal Holland Society of Sciences and Humanities) in 1752 – the first scientific society to issue competitions aimed at solving societal problems using the expertise available within the community. The idea was as simple as it was successful: by joining forces and using shared knowledge, you could achieve more than you would on your own. The Hollandsche Maatschappij published the answers to these competitions in hefty volumes, thereby disseminating as much information as possible.

Freemasonry also grew. This eighteenth-century phenomenon united in 1756 to form a national Grand Lodge of the Seven United Netherlands. However, unlike other societies, Freemasons kept all acquired knowledge behind closed doors, bound by a duty of secrecy.

On the other hand, the scientific societies were generous in sharing the results of their research. The Maatschappij der Nederlandse Letterkunde (Society of Dutch Literature) in Leiden, which still exists today and was founded in 1766, aimed to elevate literature to a higher level through theoretical treatises. Since almost no one could swim at the time, the Maatschappij tot Redding van Drenkelingen (Society for Saving of Drowning Victims), established in 1767, spread the latest insights into victim assistance. In 1769, Vlissingen founded the Zeeuwsch Genootschap der Wetenschappen (Zeeland Society of Sciences), followed by Utrecht in 1773 with Het Provinciaals Utrechts Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen (Utrecht Provincial Society for Arts and Sciences).

The Netherlands was clearly transforming into a cultural nation. According to the Amsterdam literary society Diligentiae Omnia, such a nation could not be without a monument to the great poet Joost van den Vondel. Why did one not yet exist? In 1772, the society financed and installed a memorial at Vondel’s grave in the Nieuwe Kerk. Today, it hangs on the right wall, directly opposite the entrance.

Dozens of poetry societies influenced public opinion through competitions on social issues such as upbringing, education and patriotism. As if that wasn’t enough, natural science, medical and legal societies were also established – all in the pursuit of acquiring as much knowledge as possible. Hundreds of reading societies purchased books between 1770 and 1800 and circulated them among their members. The Alkmaar Leeslust Baart Kunde (Reading Passion Breeds Knowledge) from 1793 still exists today.

The conclusion of all this is that thanks to these private initiatives, the eighteenth century laid the foundation for a broader, bourgeois culture that hasn’t disappeared since. Amsterdammer Willem Writs was one of those cultural entrepreneurs who shaped the future in this way, just like the Mennonite merchant Pieter Teyler. In his will, he stipulated that his entire fortune should be used for religion, culture and science. This resulted in the creation of a cultural temple in 1778, the Teylers Genootschap (Teyler’s Society), on the Spaarne River in Haarlem.

Air balloons and patriotism

Physics experiments were one of the main attractions in these societies. The Teyler’s Society commissioned the construction of a gigantic electrostatic generator, and while Writs demonstrated his latest invention in 1782 – a vyzel-moddermolen (screw pump mud mill) designed to clear the silt from the increasingly unnavigable IJ – the members of Felix Meritis were delving into aerostatics.

In 1783, the French Montgolfier brothers had invented the hot air balloon, turning a centuries-old dream of inventors and scientists into reality – humans could fly! In the years that followed, all of Europe was captivated by the “air balloon”, a symbol of the Enlightenment’s belief in the power of progress to improve human society. The physics department of Felix Meritis decided to construct a balloon of their own. In May 1784, the members were to give a demonstration outside the Weesperpoort. That day, around eighty thousand Amsterdammers left the city to witness the spectacle with their own eyes. A small balloon managed to take off, but the larger one repeatedly crashed to the ground.

This failure was grist for the mill for orthodox Netherlands. Het boek der luchtbollen ofte de Zotternyen der Menschen (The Book of Air Balloons, or the Follies of Man), a pamphlet written in a biblical style, mocked the arrogance of the society:

“15. And these are the follies of mankind.
16. And the children shall laugh when they hear of it.
17. And the descendants shall mock us.
18. And here the saying is confirmed: when monkeys climb to reach the sky, their naked rears meet every eye.”

But neither science nor the secularisation of the Netherlands could be stopped, and to his great joy, Writs saw the membership of Felix Meritis steadily grow. By 1786, a new venue was needed – the building on the Fluwelen Burgwal (now the Oudezijds Voorburgwal) had become too small. By issuing shares, the necessary funds were raised to finance a new residence on Keizersgracht, for which three town houses were demolished. In 1788, the imposing city palace was inaugurated. From its rooftop, telescopes allowed observers to gaze at the stars. Such luxury did not sit well with critics, who mockingly remarked that “happy through merit” was apparently meant to be taken literally. Willem Writs did not live to see it. He passed away in early October 1786 and was buried on 12 October, in the second class – the burial class of the well-to-do bourgeoisie.

Kezen society

Writs had still witnessed how the Netherlands polarised after 1780, when it was at war with England. Supporters and opponents of the stadtholder clashed fiercely. The latter, known as the Patriots, sought revolution and fought for democracy. Between 1780 and 1795, Felix Meritis secretly grew into a stronghold of the Patriot movement. The cultural society Concordia et Libertate (Unity and Freedom), founded in 1748, was also known throughout the city as a kezengenootschap (‘kezen’ society). The keeshond (a small Dutch spitz) was both the symbol and the derogatory nickname for a Patriot at the time.

More societies became politicised during this period. The Amsteldamsch Taal- en Dichtoefenend Genootschap (Amsterdam Society for Language and Poetry Practice) was founded in 1783 by two staunch Patriots with the clear intention of bringing like-minded authors together. Women were more than welcome. In fact, poetry societies across the country were highly inclusive and played a pioneering role in women’s emancipation. Under the guise of a new reading society, Amsterdam Patriots gathered at Doctrina et Amicitia (Knowledge and Friendship), which was housed at Kalverstraat 4-8 as of 1788. Today, a commemorative plaque marks the location.

During these turbulent revolutionary years, the Mennonite and Patriot preacher Jan Nieuwenhuizen founded the Maatschappij tot Nut van ’t Algemeen (Society for Public Welfare) in Edam in 1784. It was intended for those who hungered for knowledge but could not afford books, schooling or expensive memberships. The initiative was poorly received in the pro-Orange town of Edam, where the regents had little interest in uplifting the common people. As a result, in 1787 – when Stadtholder William V had suppressed the Patriot movement – the society’s headquarters were relocated to Patriot Amsterdam. In the years that followed, Het Nut published affordable schoolbooks and established Nutsbibliotheken (public libraries) and primary schools. In 1795, it had thirty departments across the country.

That same year, the Batavian Revolution became a reality. Felix Meritis had been so actively involved in the revolution that its directors and commissioners were invited to Amsterdam’s city hall on the Dam for a grand revolutionary celebration, attended by the consuls of France, America, Sweden and Denmark. During the difficult French period that followed, “resistance poets” such as Helmers and Loots kept morale high at Felix Meritis with nationalistic poetry. When the society celebrated its fiftieth anniversary in 1827, “the esteemed WILLEM WRITS” was, of course, commemorated. Thanks to its faith in “Popular Freedom and Social Enlightenment”, it had survived all “disasters and misfortunes”.

In those years, the oval concert hall was considered an iconic venue with the best acoustics in Europe. The Small Hall of the Concertgebouw was modeled after it. Today, in true eighteenth-century tradition, Felix Meritis is promoted as a “cultural house for the future”. That the name of the society is better known than that of its founder is likely just as Willem Writs would have wanted. He was not driven by fame or personal glory. His only aim was to serve his city, his fatherland and his fellow man.

• Amsterdam
• Felix Meritis
• Willem Writs