The town of Proserpine had humble beginnings. In 1859, George Elphinstone Dalrymple named the river that flowed through the valley after the Greek town of Proserpine. He saw the land as fertile, like the Greek town, and imagined a future where crops would thrive. He wasn’t wrong.

A few years later, in the early 1860s, the first settlers arrived. Daniel Emmerson established the Proserpine pastoral station. The land was wild, and the settlers faced hardships, but they were determined. Frederick Bode and William Dangar soon followed, taking up land at Bromby Park and Goorganga Creek. Charles Bradley and James Colling established their own properties along the Gregory River. It was a time of claiming, building, and working the land.

The settlers were not alone. The land had long been home to Indigenous people. In 1866, the Native Police patrolled the area, led by Inspectors John Marlow and John Isley. They were tasked with keeping the settlers safe, though their methods were harsh. “Dispersals” were common, a word used to describe violent confrontations with the Indigenous population. These patrols left scars, but they also marked the settlers’ control over the land.

Marlow often stayed at Emmerson’s property, using it as a base. He bought horses from him and planned his expeditions from the station. The settlers needed security, and Marlow provided it. His troopers roamed the land, ensuring that the settlers could farm in peace, though at a terrible cost to the original inhabitants.

As the 1880s approached, the region shifted from pastoral to agricultural. In 1882, the Crystal Brook Sugar Company was established. The company built a sugar mill, and soon the land was covered in cane fields. The work was hard and labor-intensive, so South Sea Islanders were brought in to labor on the plantations. The mill thrived for a time, but in 1893 it closed. Smaller farms took its place, run by white owners. The sugar industry continued, but it looked different now—more personal, more local.

The Story of Clara Mason

In those early days, one woman stood out: Clara Mason. She was not born into wealth or privilege. Her father had come to Proserpine looking for work at the sugar mill, and Clara grew up in the shadow of the towering cane fields.

Clara had a different vision for her life. She didn’t want to spend her days in the fields like many others. Instead, she started her own business—something unheard of for a woman at the time. She opened a small shop, selling goods to both the settlers and the workers. Her shop became a meeting place, a small hub of trade and conversation.

“Why not work the land?” people would ask her. She would smile and reply, “The land is for those who love it. I love people.”

Clara’s shop grew, and so did her influence. She was wise with her words, and people trusted her. She lent money to families in need, helped negotiate deals between farmers, and provided food on credit to workers during hard times. Clara became a voice of reason in a town that was often divided.

One year, during a terrible drought, the crops began to fail. The farmers were desperate. Some considered leaving the town altogether, but Clara had an idea. She gathered the town leaders and said, “If we pool what we have, we can make it through.”

“That won’t work,” someone said. “There isn’t enough.”

“Enough for one is enough for all, if we share wisely,” Clara replied.

It was a simple idea, but it resonated. The town came together, sharing water, food, and labor. It wasn’t easy, but they made it through the drought. Clara’s leadership during that time became a local legend.

After the drought, Clara’s shop became even more important. She didn’t just sell goods; she offered advice and helped settle disputes. Farmers would come to her for guidance before making decisions. Workers trusted her to be fair. Over time, people started saying, “If Clara says it, it’s true.”

Clara never married, though many men courted her. When asked why, she would laugh and say, “My heart belongs to this town.”

In her later years, Clara began teaching young girls how to run businesses. “You don’t need a husband to make a living,” she would tell them. “You need courage, and a mind that sees opportunity.”

Clara Mason passed away in 1905, but her legacy lived on. Her shop became a community center, and the values she instilled—fairness, hard work, and community—continued to shape the town. Today, Proserpine remembers her not just as a businesswoman but as a leader, someone who saw the potential in people and in the land.

Proserpine grew over the years, its sugar industry thriving and its people building on the foundations laid by those early settlers. But it was people like Clara, with vision and wisdom, who made it more than just a place to live—they made it a community.