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How Well Do You Really Know Rondebosch?

A 10-Point Challenge for the True Local

By Jane Stirton, Area Specialist, Chas Everitt Rondebosch

There are certain images that define our shared experience of living in Rondebosch. It’s the dappled afternoon light filtering through the canopies of ancient oak trees along a quiet street. It’s the majestic, ever-present silhouette of Devil’s Peak against a crisp blue sky, a view that never gets old. It’s the ivy-clad walls of the university, radiating a sense of history and intellectual energy, and the weekend buzz of families, students, and joggers circling the great green lung of the Common. We live in a suburb that is, without question, one of the most beautiful and storied in the country.   

So, I thought I’d share a few of my favourite discoveries in a friendly challenge. How many of these Rondebosch secrets do you know? Let’s see if we can surprise even the most knowledgeable local!

The Rondebosch 10: Test Your Local Expertise

1. The Fountain’s Fiery Past and Global Twin

We’ve all navigated the intersection at Belmont and Main, with the ornate, Victorian cast-iron fountain standing as a familiar, if slightly eccentric, landmark. We know it as a horse trough, a relic of a bygone era. But its story is far more electric and globe-trotting than you might imagine.   

Originally gifted to the community in 1891 by a local resident, George Pigot Moodie, it was known as the Moodie Fountain. It wasn’t just a decorative water feature. The elegant hexagonal lantern perched on top was one of South Africa’s very first electric streetlights, casting its glow for the first time on 25 April 1892. For a time, it was powered by Moodie’s own private power plant, a remarkable example of early suburban innovation, before the municipality completed its own plant on the banks of the Liesbeek River.   

The fountain’s origins trace back to the world-renowned Saracen Foundry of Walter Macfarlane & Co. in Glasgow, Scotland, a powerhouse of Victorian decorative ironwork. It was listed as Water Trough No. 27 in their catalogue. This global reach of Victorian industry means our fountain is not unique. While similar models exist in Cradock and neighbouring Rosebank, what is truly astonishing is that an identical twin—the Racedo Fountain—stands proudly in front of the railway station in Paraná, Argentina. Our little piece of Rondebosch heritage has a direct counterpart a continent away, a silent testament to a shared global history of trade and design.   

This landmark’s story has a dramatic modern chapter as well. In August 2015, the original cast-iron structure was tragically shattered by a speeding car, with some of the historic pieces being stolen from the scene. For years, its absence was a scar on the landscape. But in a testament to community resolve, it was meticulously rebuilt by the local firm Heritage Castings, this time in more resilient aluminium, and reinstalled in September 2020 to reclaim its rightful place. The fountain is therefore not just a relic; it’s a symbol of our community’s resilience and commitment to preserving the landmarks that define us.   

2. The Common’s Call to Arms

Today, Rondebosch Common is a sanctuary of peace. Its 40-hectare expanse is a cherished space for morning jogs, dog-walking, and weekend picnics—a green haven in the heart of our bustling suburb. But the very name of the road that borders its western edge, Camp Ground Road, holds the clue to a far more turbulent past.   

This tranquil green was once a military campground of immense strategic importance. Its most pivotal moment came in January 1805. It was here, on this very ground, that local Dutch farmers and burgher militia rallied before marching north for the decisive Battle of Blaauwberg. That battle resulted in a British victory and marked the beginning of the second, and permanent, British occupation of the Cape. The fate of the entire colony was, in a very real sense, sealed after a final gathering on the fields where we now fly kites and walk our dogs.   

The Common’s military role didn’t end there. For over a century, it was used as a regular encampment for troops, a practice that continued right up until the Second World War. To walk the perimeter of the Common today is to trace the footsteps of soldiers and citizen militias, and to stand on a piece of land that was once an active stage for the great power struggles that shaped South Africa. The contrast between its past as a theatre of war and its present as a haven of peace could not be more profound.   

3. A Gift with a Complicated Legacy

Most of us assume the Common is simply municipal parkland. The truth is far more complex and speaks volumes about the layered history of our suburb. Rondebosch Common is not, and has never been, state land. It is, in fact, a private donation, bequeathed to the people of Cape Town in the will of one of history’s most powerful and controversial figures: Cecil John Rhodes.   

This fact alone forces us to see the space through a more nuanced lens. It is simultaneously a cherished public asset and the legacy of a man whose vision for Africa continues to be debated. But the layers don’t stop there. Digging deeper into the archives reveals another forgotten piece of the Common’s history. In 1855, two plots of land adjoining the Common were granted to the Wesleyan and Muslim communities to be used as graveyards. Though now gone, the existence of these burial grounds points to a more diverse social and religious fabric in 19th-century Rondebosch than is often remembered, a stark contrast to the rigid segregation that would later be imposed under laws like the Group Areas Act.   

Today, the Common is rightly celebrated as a National Monument, proclaimed in 1961, and a vital conservation area. It protects one of the last remaining pockets of critically endangered Cape Flats Sand Fynbos, a vegetation type that exists nowhere else on Earth, and is home to hundreds of plant species and over 110 species of birds. So, this single piece of land embodies three powerful, and at times conflicting, narratives: a priceless ecological treasure, the complicated philanthropic legacy of a colonial magnate, and a faint echo of a multicultural community that once existed on its borders.   

4. From Lions and Leopards to Lectures and Libraries

The University of Cape Town is inextricably linked with Rondebosch, its main campus a landmark on the slopes of Devil’s Peak. But the university’s origins lie closer to the city, on what is now the Hiddingh Campus in Orange Street. And the ground upon which South Africa’s first purpose-built building for higher education was constructed has a wild and wonderful history.

Before it was a place of quiet study, this location was the site of Cape Town’s 18th-century zoo. The historical records are vivid, describing a menagerie “replete with lion’s dens and a small lake that supposedly housed a hippo!”. It is a fantastic image to conjure: where students now debate philosophy and practice sculpture, lions once roared.   

On this very spot, the magnificent Egyptian Building was completed in 1841, its striking neo-classical style making it an instant landmark. Its design is so distinctive that it is one of only two such examples of the Egyptian Revival style on a university campus in the world; its only architectural counterpart is the Medical College of Virginia in the United States. The establishment of this building, housing the South African College with a mere sixteen students to start, marked a profound shift—the taming of a wild, spectacular space for the pursuit of reason, knowledge, and order.   

5. The President’s Pact and the Path to Peace

The Groote Schuur estate is a name synonymous with power and prestige in South Africa. We know it as the official Cape Town residence of the nation’s president. But what is less commonly remembered is that a specific building on this Rondebosch estate was the setting for one of the most pivotal moments in modern world history.   

On 2 May 1990, just months after Nelson Mandela’s release from prison, he met with then-State President FW de Klerk at the presidential residence, Genadendal (formerly known as Westbrooke). The result of their talks was the “Groote Schuur Minute,” a landmark document that committed both the ANC and the government to a peaceful negotiation process and the removal of obstacles to that process.   

This was the moment the logjam was broken. It was the formal beginning of the end of Apartheid’s conflict and the start of the path towards a democratic South Africa. This world-changing event didn’t happen in Pretoria or at a neutral international venue. It happened right here, in a historic home nestled in the leafy tranquility of Rondebosch. It brings a moment of immense historical weight directly into our neighbourhood, transforming a familiar estate into a site of global significance and a symbol of hope and reconciliation.

6. The Mill That Broke the Monopoly

Mostert’s Mill, standing sentinel beside the M3, is an iconic sight. We know it as the oldest surviving complete windmill in South Africa, a quaint and beautiful relic of our agricultural past. But its true historical importance lies not just in its age, but in its revolutionary economic statement.   

When it was built around 1796 by the farmer Gysbert van Reenen, it was the first privately owned mill in the Cape Colony. This may seem like a minor detail, but it was hugely significant. Until the British took control of the Cape from the Dutch in 1795, all milling was a state-controlled monopoly under the powerful Dutch East India Company (VOC). No private individual was permitted to own and operate such a vital piece of economic infrastructure.   

7. The Birthplace of a Nation’s Property Law

As a real estate professional, this is the piece of trivia that I find most profound. Every property transaction, every title deed, every home loan in South Africa today has its conceptual roots in an event that took place on the banks of the Liesbeek River over 360 years ago.

In 1657, just five years after the establishment of the Dutch settlement, Jan van Riebeeck granted a number of Dutch East India Company employees the status of “free burghers,” allowing them to farm for themselves. He allocated them plots of land in a lush, well-watered area that he noted in his diary for its distinctive “circular grove of thorn trees”—or, in the Dutch of the day, “Het Ronde Doornbosjen”.   

8. Wellington’s Man on the Canigou Estate

Rondebosch Boys’ High School is one of the suburb’s most venerable institutions, with a proud history stretching back to 1897. Many residents know its beautiful grounds and the historic boarding house, Canigou. But the name of that estate provides an astonishing link between our local school and one of the most famous military figures in world history.   

The land was purchased in 1837 by a Colonel John Bell. It was he who named the estate “Canigou,” after Mont Canigou, a mountain in the Pyrenees on the border of France and Spain where he had served with the British Army during the Napoleonic Wars. But Colonel Bell was no ordinary officer. He had also served as the Aide-de-Camp, or personal assistant, to the Duke of Wellington—the very man who would go on to defeat Napoleon Bonaparte at the Battle of Waterloo.   

It is a remarkable connection. The land upon which generations of Rondebosch boys have played rugby and studied for exams was once owned and named by a man who stood at the right hand of the victor of Waterloo. It infuses a beloved local landmark with an unexpected and prestigious thread of global history.

9. The Mountain Goats of Groote Schuur

We’ve already established that Cecil Rhodes was a man of grand ambitions, but this extended beyond politics and mining to his personal estate. In 1896, he established a private menagerie on the Groote Schuur grounds, which was eventually opened to the public as a zoo in 1931. It was a grand affair, housing lions, leopards, and even crocodiles.   

Among the more unusual residents were Himalayan Tahrs, a species of wild goat perfectly adapted to mountainous terrain. At some point, a number of these Tahrs did what wild animals are prone to do: they escaped. Finding the rugged slopes of Devil’s Peak and Table Mountain to their liking, they thrived and established a feral population.   

For decades, these exotic escapees roamed the mountain above Rondebosch. While a culling program in the 2000s significantly reduced their numbers to protect the native fynbos and klipspringers, the story persists. It is said that “their descendants still get the occasional spotting to this day”. It’s a wonderful, romantic tale that illustrates the unpredictable ways human history interacts with the natural world. It encourages us to look up at our familiar mountain view with fresh eyes, wondering if a ghost of Rhodes’s zoo is looking back down.   

10. The Wettest, and One of the First, Suburbs

Every Capetonian knows the running joke about the “Newlands River” that appears on the Main Road during a winter downpour. Our neighbour, Newlands, officially holds the title of the wettest suburb in South Africa, thanks to its position on the eastern slopes of Table Mountain, which catches the rain-bearing north-westerly winds. As Rondebosch shares this exact geography, we can certainly claim a share of that soggy distinction!   

But beyond our microclimate, Rondebosch holds another important “first.” While the land was first settled in 1657, for nearly two centuries it was simply a rural area of farms and estates. It was only after the 1830s that Rondebosch began to gain recognition as a distinct village, separate from Cape Town proper.   

The true catalyst for its transformation into a desirable suburb was the arrival of the railway. The line connecting Cape Town to Wynberg, which passed through Rondebosch, opened on 19 December 1864. This new, fast connection to the city made commuting possible and sparked a population boom. The census records tell the story: the population grew from just 1,902 residents in 1875 to over 6,000 by 1904. This period marks the birth of Rondebosch as we know it—one of the very first true suburbs of Cape Town, a model for the residential development that would come to define the Southern Suburbs.