Standing near Haig Park Circuit in Claisebrook today, the only relic of East Perth's silkworm industry is a subtle street sign: Mulberry Way.
It is now prime real estate and peppered with plane trees.
Traditionally known as Goongoongup, the area was a significant camping place and food source for Noongar people.
But in the late 1800s, the part of Goongoongup stretching from Claisebrook Cove to East Perth Cemeteries was developed to create a mulberry plantation.
Senior archivist from the State Records Office Damien Hassan said the mulberry plantation was a bit of a "get rich" scheme.
"There was a terrible silkworm blight in Italy at the time, in the 1860s," he told ABC Radio Perth's Sam Longley.
"This was seen as a market opportunity for places like WA to step in and produce silkworm cocoons to send off to Europe so they could spin silk."
Domesticated silkworms are fed mulberry leaves.
So 4,000 mulberry trees were planted to nourish what was hoped to be a lucrative trade.
"You don't need a lot of capital, [or] even a lot of land, and you can grow the mulberry trees quite quickly," Mr Hassan said.
From women's gowns and dresses to elegant light-weight coats, silk was a popular material for clothing throughout the 19th century.
"It was quite labour intensive to actually spin the silk," Mr Hassan said.
"The idea was that we would cultivate the silkworm cocoon, which is effectively what the silk is produced from."
Mr Hassan said there were big ambitions for the mulberry plantation.
In 1875, the government built a silkworm nursery on the site and appointed former enrolled pensioner guard John Clayton as manager of the plantation.
"Silk that was produced in Europe at that time from East Perth silkworms was on display in Paris," Mr Hassan said.
"[It was] 1878 as part of an international exhibition.
"So we were on the world stage."
What happened to East Perth's silkworm industry?
A combination of factors was to blame for Perth's silkworm industry not coming to full fruition, Mr Hassan said.
"The orthodox reason is that it was just too labour intensive and not economically viable for us to continue as an industry," he said.
In addition to this, in the 1870s French chemist and microbiologist Louis Pasteur developed a way of combating silkworm disease in Europe, reducing WA's market opportunity.
"The environment for growing silkworms right here by the river, in this tiny little silkworm hatchery, probably wasn't ideal," Mr Hassan said.
"It was very poorly ventilated in summertime and very cold with no stove in wintertime, so it was hard to get the silkworms going."
'Scandals' dash silk ambition
But scandals in 1878 were the final "nail in the coffin", Mr Hassan said.
Both Clayton and John Burns — the neighbouring government gardens manager — were dismissed from their roles due to varying misconduct.
The State Records Office has handwritten documents referring to Clayton's "intemperate habits" and his "excesses".
He was dismissed from the plantation in 1878 and a dispute about whether or not he should be compensated remained ongoing until 1879.
"And then almost right next door, the manager of the government gardens, John Burns, is caught up in a scandal at the same time," Mr Hassan said.
Archival documents from the State Records Office stated "evidence of drink, the scourge of Western Australian society" was found within Burns's cottage while his cook, "a pauper", was captured and arrested for being out after curfew.
Burns himself was found in bed with the wife of a prisoner who was employed in the gardens.
The cook was charged and given one month's hard labour, while Burns was dismissed from his job without charge.
"So you've got these scandals happening in the same vicinity at the same time," Mr Hassan said.
"Now that's when the WA government really decides to distance itself from the scandals and seeks to privatise the operation.
"They put out ads to lease the mulberry plantation and there's a little bit of an interest in it but, ultimately, no takers."
The land remained vacant for decades.
From plantation to tent city
With the gold rush in the 1890s came an influx of people to WA and a shortage of housing, which meant people began camping on the site.
"There's all these incidents that pop up in the newspapers about that and the trouble it causes," Mr Hassan said.
By 1912, people living on the plantation were evicted and the state government looked at developing the site to house railway and tramway workers.
But tensions between the Perth City Council and the state government prevented the plan from going ahead.
Following World War I, part of what was once the mulberry plantation became the Haig Park Recreation Ground, which sparked a turf war over which sporting groups would get to use the park.
"You've got the rugby union, you've got the cycling association, which was very strong following WWI — they want to turn it into a velodrome," Mr Hassan said.
"Some even wanted to turn it into a speedway … but it became a cricket ground and the ground for playing football and hockey through to 1997."
Prime residential land
A small remnant of the park is today Haig Park Place amid a leafy suburb of terraced homes
Before being totally redeveloped in the 1990s, for many decades East Perth was an industrial area.
"You've got the East Perth gas works right on the river [and] the power station," Mr Hassan said.
"You'd travel over what was then the Bunbury Bridge to the other side to Burswood and there would be sewage treatment works and a rubbish tip.
"It's an amazing transformation to the East Perth we have now."
Today, 2.5 kilometres from the Mulberry Way street sign, a silk handkerchief sits in a glass cabinet at the WA Museum, Boola Bardip.
"It was spun in Lyon, in France, from the silk produced here at East Perth," Mr Hassan said.
"[It's] a wonderful tangible connection between what happened at the mulberry plantation in the 1870s and what we can see now."
