By Kim Marais
So, you think naming a place is simple? You just pick a name you like and slap it on a sign, right? Well, hold my historically significant wine, because the story of how Groot Constantia got its name is a masterclass in baffling theories, terrible detective work, and wild speculation.
The man at the center of this mystery is Simon van der Stel, the farm’s founder, who apparently couldn’t be bothered to jot down, “Hey guys, I named it this because…” leaving centuries of historians to play a frantic, and frankly terrible, guessing game.
Exhibit A: The Case of the Forgotten Family
First up to the plate were a couple of 18th-century travellers, Peter Kolbe and Francois Valentijn. After much stroking of their chins, they declared with absolute confidence: “He named it after his wife! A tribute to his beloved Constantia!”
A beautiful sentiment. The only problem? His wife’s name was Johanna Jacoba. A classic historical face-palm.
Not to be outdone, French writer Jacques Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre arrived later and scoffed, “You fools! It wasn’t his wife, it was his daughter!” Another excellent theory, torpedoed by the inconvenient fact that his daughter’s name was Catharina. At this point, you have to imagine the ghosts of Johanna and Catharina just rolling their eyes for eternity.
Exhibit B: The Grape Escape
Fast forward to 1830. An American naval chaplain, C.S. Steward, stepped off his ship, took one look around, and announced, “It’s the grapes, obviously! The famous French Constantia grape was planted here first!”
This sounded plausible until someone checked the receipts. It turns out Simon van der Stel didn’t plant any French grapes. His son, Frans, did. Much later. It’s the historical equivalent of claiming your dad invented the iPhone because you bought one.
Exhibit C: The Boaty McBoatface Theory
Getting slightly more sensible, some historians suggest the farm was named after a ship. A VOC yacht named Constantia was known to anchor in Table Bay. This theory gets a boost because a neighbouring farm was named Alphen, which was also the name of a ship. This is the most logical theory, which, in the context of this mess, makes it the most boring. Where’s the drama?
Exhibit D: The Historical Fan-Fiction
Speaking of drama, enter Hymen Picard, a writer who clearly believed history needed more spice. Picard spun a tale worthy of a romance novel: on his voyage from Batavia, young Simon van der Stel fell deeply in love with a beautiful maiden named—you guessed it—Constantia. Their love was pure, their connection profound! But alas, she died tragically some time later, and he named his grand estate to commemorate their lost love. It’s a beautiful story. It’s moving. It’s almost certainly made up.
The Runners-Up: Brown-Nosing and Bragging
As if that weren’t enough, there are more theories from the bottom of the barrel. One suggests he named it after the daughter of a man named Van Goens, who helped him get the land grant—a classic case of historical brown-nosing.
And the final, most self-congratulatory theory? That “Constantia” comes from the Latin word for constancy or steadfastness, virtues Van der Stel admired in… well, himself. Imagine naming your house “My Awesome Persistence” or “Chateau Look-How-Reliable-I-Am.”
So, what’s the real answer? Was it a wife, a daughter, the wrong grape, a boat, a tragic lover, a suck-up move, or a humblebrag? The truth is, nobody knows. Simon van der Stel took the secret to his grave, probably chuckling at the centuries of chaos he had unleashed. For all we know, Constantia was the name of his favourite chicken.
