Franz Joost: The Rough Shepherd of Drakenstein

From VOC soldier to betrayed husband, the life of Franz Joost reveals the brutal reality of early Cape Colony settlers and the darkness that followed.

AI depiction of Franz Joost working as a shepherd.

The Tragic Tale of Franz Joost: Soldier, Shepherd, and Early Cape Settler

Franz Joost(e) was one of thousands of men who arrived at the Cape of Good Hope in the service of the Dutch East India Company (VOC). But unlike many who vanished into the bureaucracy of the time, his story survives — not only through VOC records, but also because of its violent and tragic end. His life offers a rare glimpse into the struggles of early settlers, the brutal conditions of colonial life, and the fragile line between survival and downfall.‍

A Harsh Voyage to the Cape

On 28 June 1692, Franz boarded the VOC ship Belois in Goeree, today part of the island of Goeree-Overflakkee, the southernmost delta island of South Holland in the Netherlands. He was employed as a soldier, bound for Batavia (now Jakarta, Indonesia), aboard a ship carrying 20 cannons and 173 other men.

The voyage was brutal. Twenty-eight men died of illness, and 65 others — including Franz — fell sick during the journey. The Belois dropped anchor at the Cape of Good Hope on 8 November 1692, and Frans was admitted to the VOC hospital.‍

A Missed Departure and a New Life Begins

Possibly still unwell, Franz did not reboard the Belois when it left for Batavia on 8 December 1692. Just a few days later, on 11 December, the Secretary of Government at the Cape, J.G. de Grevenbroek, permitted Franz to remain at the Cape and assigned him to work as a shepherd for the free burgher Balthasar Christian Webber in Drakenstein.

This first contract was annulled on 2 February 1696 — likely to make way for better-paid employment. Based on his mark or “signature” on VOC contracts, it's likely that Franz was illiterate. He has also been recorded under various spellings: Frans Joost, Jooste, and Jooste van Lipstadt.

Importantly, he should not be confused with another Frans Jooste — a sailor from Rotterdam who served on the VOC ship Dageraad, which arrived at the Cape on 18 January 1693.‍

A Shepherd and Free Burgher in Drakenstein

On 13 February 1696, Secretary Hugo de Goijer approved a second shepherding contract for Franz, this time with free burgher Gerrit Basson. This agreement lasted two years.

By 1699, Franz had become a free burgher himself. According to the 1703 Cape Muster Roll, he entered a farming partnership with Coenraad Cijffer in Drakenstein. This partnership appears to have ended sometime between 1706 and Coenraad’s death in 1708 — more likely closer to 1706.

That same year, Franz was granted land, which he named Bartholomeus Klip — now part of the Hermon district. At the time, the area was commonly known as "Jooste’s plaas" in the Vier-en-Twintig Rivieren region.‍

Marriage and a Reputation for Roughness

In 1706, Franz married Maria Mouton, though no official record of the wedding date survives. During her murder trial testimony in 1714, Maria stated that Franz had not bought her a single item of clothing during their nine-year marriage — suggesting they may have married as early as 1705. At the time of their marriage, Maria was only 16, placing her birth around 1689 or 1690. If Franz was the typical minimum VOC age of 16 in 1692, he was born no later than 1676, but some estimates put his birth closer to 1669–1670 — making him at least 13, and possibly more than 20 years her senior.

According to the trail testimonies, locals refered to Franz by the nickname "Schurfde Franz", loosely translated as "Rough Frans." It’s unclear whether this referred to his physical appearance, his clothing, his speech, or his behavior. Trial testimony paints a picture of a somewhat coarse and unrefined man — likely hardened by his past as a soldier and shepherd.

Franz and Maria had two sons: Jacobus (born 1710) and Francois (born 1712).‍

Betrayal and Murder

On 3 January 1714, Franz was murdered by one of his slaves — at the instigation of his wife, Maria. She was engaged in a sexual relationship with the enslaved man and conspired with him to carry out the killing. The murder was witnessed by their young son Jacobus (note: that the trail documents never mentioned the child's name, but only that a child testified and can we assume that it could only have been the eldest).

Franz’ body was tied behind a horse, dragged across the land, and hidden in a porcupine burrow.

Maria’s trial would go on to become one of the Cape Colony’s earliest (first female sentenced to death in the Cape Colony) and most shocking criminal cases — not only for the brutal nature of the crime, but also because it involved a white woman and an enslaved man conspiring together, something considered deeply taboo in the colonial social order.‍

Legacy

Franz' life — from VOC soldier to farmer, husband, and murder victim — is one of the most documented and tragic stories among early Cape settlers. His descendants would go on to carry the Jooste name across generations of South African history. And while Franz’ life was cut short by betrayal, his story offers a human window into the harsh realities of early colonial life at the Cape of Good Hope.