Capetonians have a tendency to condescendingly regard mining as a dirty and dangerous, although vaguely necessary, activity that is pursued somewhere in the northern reaches of South Africa.

Much to their relief, it is an occupation far removed from their somewhat idyllic way of life and picturesque peninsula.

Yet few people, Capetonians included, are aware that Lion’s Head, that magnificent peak that sits adjacent to Table Mountain, came dangerously close to being mined following the discovery of a seemingly economically viable vein of gold in the closing decades of the nineteenth century.

From the moment white settlers arrived on the shores of the Cape of Good Hope in the midseventeenth century, Table Mountain was seen as a possible source of mineral wealth. Indeed, as early as 1654, Jan van Riebeeck, the first commander of the Cape, instructed his men to make a thorough investigation of the peninsula’s mineral potential. However, the exploration ventures did not uncover any metals of economic value.

Nevertheless, the hope that Table Mountain was rich in valuable metals, namely gold and silver, persisted and the baton of exploration was picked up from time to time over the next two centuries. But, as history shows, Lady Luck was never with those prospectors during their pursuit of wealth on the slopes of that majestic mountain.

One would imagine that two centuries of failed exploration would lead geologists and explorers to the conclusion that Table Mountain was perhaps not a metalliferous treasure trove.

However, following the history-changing discovery of the immensely rich gold-bearing Witwatersrand basin in 1886, all rationality was thrown to the wind and explorers, enthused by the gold fever that swept South Africa, again looked to the mountain with hope in their heart. By the closing months of 1886, the southern tip of the continent was enveloped by gold fever, with prospectors fossicking all along the peninsula for signs of that most desired of metals.
While the majority of prospectors had little luck, one party, under the guise of the Lion’s Head Gold Syndicate, did hit paydirt in the closing weeks of 1887.
As the name would suggest, the syndicate focused its investigations on the slopes of the Lion’s Head peak, particularly a city-bowl-facing farm owned by one Jan Hofmeyer.

After many months of intensive prospecting and having spent some £1 500, the party struck gold in November 1887 at a site about 100 m below what is today the start of the Lion’s Head hiking trail, on Signal Hill road.

To test the richness of the find, a rather large sample was sent for analysis to PD Hahn, a professor of chemistry and metallurgy at the South African College (the predecessor of the University of Cape Town). From that sample, weighing in at just over 350 kg, Hahn was able to extract 39½ grains of gold, which corresponded to an assay of 2 oz, 1 dwt and 3½ grains of gold a ton. In his assay report, Hahn optimistically stated: “I am of the opinion that the contact zone between the granite and slate from Sea Point to the neck between Devil’s Peak and Table Mountain is auriferous and that gold will be found everywhere in this zone.”

Such was the syndicate’s excitement and faith in Hahn’s results that, in December, it formed a publicly listed company, Lion’s Head (Cape Town) Gold Mining Company. However, although a prospectus was submitted to the public for 14 000 shares, it would seem that Cape-tonians were not as enamoured with the discovery of gold or with the prospect of their mountain being mined, for only 2 000 applications for shares were received and, of those, almost 50% were from people who were not residents of Cape Town or its suburbs.

Unfortunately, the newly formed company was to suffer further disappointment. At the insistence of the Cape’s Commissioner of Crown Lands, 7½ t of ore taken from the site was shipped to Britain and Germany for more comprehensive assaying to confirm the richness of the discovery. Of that sample, only 4 kg was tested and the assay was not undertaken by the chlorination process, as had been specifically requested. Thus, the results showed no sign of gold.

While the company did not immediately lose faith in the potential of its mine, which, by 1888, boasted a shaft that descended some 45 m, and continued to attempt to pique investor interest and raise further funding, it was eventually forced to abandon the project in the early 1890s, when the City Council forcibly bought the Lion’s Head farm.

Interestingly, while mining was abandoned, the shaft remained open for many decades and it was only in 1951, when a firefighter battling a blaze on the mountain nearly fell in that the shaft entrance was covered up entirely. Today, any evidence of mining on Lion’s Head is impossible to find.
Whether or not there is a rich vein of gold stretching from Sea Point to Devils Peak is rather an academic debate, for Table Mountain, as well as large stretches of the Cape Peninsula, is now a protected site and no mining activity will ever be permitted.