by Jim Haynes
Tulloch in action in an exhibition gallop, carrying the colours of A.E.
Healey—the only colours he ever carried. (Courtesy of AJC)
A very young Gai Waterhouse sits on Tulloch’s back as her father, Tommy Smith, holds the great champion. (Courtesy of Brett Costello/Newspix)
Malcolm Johnson brings Kingston Town back to scale after winning the George Main Stakes at Randwick on 26 September 1981. (Courtesy of Bob Seary/ Newspix)
Schillaci with Damien Oliver aboard wins the George Ryder Stakes at Rosehill in 1993. (Courtesy of Steve Hart Photographics)
Greg Childs brings the great mare Sunline back to scale after winning the Coolmore Classic at Rosehill on 9 March 2002. (Courtesy of Rohan Kelly/ Newspix)
Lonhro with Darren Beadman wins the Caulfield Stakes from the great Sunline with Greg Childs on 12 October 2002. (Courtesy of Steve Hart Photographics)
Perhaps Lonhro’s greatest victory was to come 18 months later at what was his Melbourne farewell, the Australian Cup at Flemington.
The sporting Melbourne crowd cheered him again and again that day as he came back to the winner’s stall having won a miraculous and memorable victory over the three horses Melbourne racegoers loved best at that time—Mummify, Elvstroem and Makybe Diva.
After having his momentum stopped dead twice in the straight and being turned almost completely sideways, the ‘Black Flash’ pushed out, started up his big engine again, and made up impossible lengths in a hundred metres to run down a good three-year-old in Delzao at weight for age. In doing so he also defeated that season’s VRC Derby winner, Elvstroem, the Caulfield Cup winner Mummify and the Melbourne Cup winner Makybe Diva.
Those who wish to find fault with his record of 26 wins from 35 starts might like to consider that his Group 1 winning strike rate of 64 per cent is the best ever recorded since the system began. His overall winning strike rate of 74 per cent is far better than that of Tulloch, Kingston Town and Phar Lap. Indeed it is second only to Carbine, arguably the greatest racehorse that ever breathed, and a horse who raced a century before Lonhro was born.
It is true that Lonhro’s campaigns were well planned and orchestrated to get the best results. However, it is also true that he raced in an era of great racehorses, and he didn’t exactly avoid them!
Lonhro raced against and defeated Sunline, Viking Ruler, Dash For Cash,Viscount, Shogun Lodge, Tie the Knot, Universal Prince, Magic Albert, Republic Lass, Freemason, Platinum Scissors, Grand Armee, Private Steer, Clangalang, Belle Du Jour, Elvstroem, Mummify and the great Makybe Diva.
His progeny have already sold individually for more than $1 million and Denman, from his second crop, was the most exciting colt to be seen in Australia for years, before being sent to race in Dubai and Europe.
Denman is named after the town in the Hunter Valley near Woodlands Stud, where Lonhro now stands as a stallion. In between his stud duties, the beautiful near-black horse often stands motionless, gazing off into the distance.
Apparently Lonhro enjoys looking out across the upper reaches of the Hunter Valley. It’s a long way from Moonee Valley . . . and Lonhro never liked Moonee Valley.
Father Riley’s Horse
A.B. (‘Banjo’) Paterson
’Twas the horse thief, Andy Regan, that was hunted like a dog
By the troopers of the Upper Murray side,
They had searched in every gully—they had looked in every log,
But never sight or track of him they spied,
Till the priest at Kiley’s Crossing heard a knocking very late
And a whisper, ‘Father Riley—come across!’
So his Reverence, in pyjamas, trotted softly to the gate
And admitted Andy Regan—and a horse!
‘Now, it’s listen, Father Riley, to the words I’ve got to say,
For it’s close upon my death I am tonight;
With the troopers hard behind me I’ve been hiding all the day
In the gullies, keeping close and out of sight.
But they’re watching all the ranges till there’s not a bird could fly,
And I’m fairly worn to pieces with the strife;
So I’m taking no more trouble, but I’m going home to die,
’Tis the only way I see to save my life!
‘Yes, I’m making home to mother’s, and I’ll die a Tuesday next
And be buried on the Thursday—and, of course,
I’m prepared to meet my penance, but with one thing I’m perplexed
And it’s—Father, it’s this jewel of a horse!
He was never bought nor paid for, and there’s not a man can swear
To his owner or his breeder, but I know,
That his sire was by Pedantic from the Old Pretender mare
And his dam was close related to The Roe.
‘And there’s nothing in the district that can race him for a step;
He could canter while they’re going at their top:
He’s the king of all the leppers that was ever seen to lep,
A five-foot fence—he’d clear it in a hop!
So I’ll leave him with you, Father, till the dead shall rise again;
’Tis yourself that knows a good ’un; and, of course,
You can say he’s got by Moonlight out of Paddy Murphy’s plain
If you’re ever asked the breeding of the horse!
‘But it’s getting on to daylight and it’s time to say goodbye,
For the stars above the east are growing pale.
And I’m making home to mother; and it’s hard for me to die!
But it’s harder still, is keeping out of gaol!
You can ride the old horse over to my grave across the dip
Where the wattle bloom is waving overhead.
Sure he’ll jump them fences easy; you must never raise the whip
Or he’ll rush ’em! now, goodbye!’ and he had fled.
So they buried Andy Regan, and they buried him to rights,
In the graveyard at the back of Kiley’s Hill;
There were five-and-twenty mourners who had five-and-twenty fights
Till the very boldest fighters had their fill.
There were fifty horses racing from the graveyard to the pub,
And their riders flogged each other all the while.
And the lashin’s of the liquor! And the lavin’s of the grub!
Oh! poor Andy went to rest in proper style.
Then the races came to Kiley’s—with a steeplechase and all,
For the folk were mostly Irish round about,
And it takes an Irish rider to be fearless of a fall;
They were training morning in and morning out.
But they never worked their horses till the sun was on the course
For a superstitious story kept ’em back,
That the ghost of Andy Regan, on a slashing chestnut horse,
Had been training by the starlight on the track.
And they read the nominations for the races with surprise
And amusement at the Father’s little joke,
For a novice had been entered for the steeplechasing prize,
And they found that it was Father Riley’s moke!
He was neat enough to gallop, he was strong enough to stay!
But his owner’s views of training were immense,
For the Reverend Father Riley used to ride him every day,
And he never saw a hurdle nor a fence.
And the priest would join the laughter, ‘Oh,’ said he, ‘I put him in,
For there’s five-and-twenty sovereigns to be won.
And the poor would find it useful, if the chestnut chanced to win,
And he’ll maybe win when all is said and done!’
He had called him Faugh-a-ballagh, which is French for ‘Clear the course’,
And his colours were a vivid shade of green:
All the Dooleys and O’Donnells were on Father Riley’s horse,
While the Orangemen we
re backing Mandarin!
It was Hogan, the dog poisoner—old man and very wise,
Who was camping in the racecourse with his swag,
And who ventured the opinion, to the township’s great surprise,
That the race would go to Father Riley’s nag.
‘You can talk about your riders—and the horse has not been schooled,
And the fences is terrific, and the rest!
When the field is fairly going, then ye’ll see ye’ve all been fooled,
And the chestnut horse will battle with the best.
‘For there’s some has got condition, and they think the race is sure,
And the chestnut horse will fall beneath the weight,
But the hopes of all the helpless, and the prayers of all the poor,
Will be running by his side to keep him straight.
And what’s the need of schoolin’ or of workin’ on the track,
When the saints are there to guide him round the course!
I’ve prayed him over every fence—I’ve prayed him out and back!
And I’ll bet my cash on Father Riley’s horse!’
*
Oh, the steeple was a caution! They went tearin’ round and round,
And the fences rang and rattled where they struck.
There was some that cleared the water, there was more fell in and drowned,
Some blamed the men and others blamed the luck!
But the whips were flying freely when the field came into view,
For the finish down the long green stretch of course,
And in front of all the flyers—jumping like a kangaroo,
Came the rank outsider—Father Riley’s horse!
Oh, the shouting and the cheering as he rattled past the post!
For he left the others standing in the straight;
And the rider—well they reckoned it was Andy Regan’s ghost,
And it beat ’em how a ghost would draw the weight!
But he weighed in, nine stone seven, then he laughed and disappeared,
Like a banshee (which is Spanish for an elf ),
And old Hogan muttered sagely, ‘If it wasn’t for the beard
They’d be thinking it was Andy Regan’s self!’
And the poor of Kiley’s Crossing gave their thanks at Christmas-tide
To the chestnut and his jockey dressed in green.
There was never such a rider, not since Andy Regan died,
And they wondered who on earth it could have been.
But they settled it among ’em, for the story got about,
’Mongst the bushmen and the people on the course,
That the Devil had been ordered to let Andy Regan out
For the steeplechase on Father Riley’s horse!
The Bernborough story
DAVID HICKIE
BERNBOROUGH WAS FOALED IN1939 at Harry Winten’s Rosalie Plains Stud, in the Dalby district on Queensland’s Darling Downs, near Toowoomba.
His dam was the 18-year-old mare Bern Maid and his sire was supposed to be by the imported sire Emborough, a horse that had won the Manchester Cup in the UK, but there is some doubt about this and his sire may have been Monish Vella.
Bernborough, racing under the nomination of a Mr Albert E. Hadwen of Brisbane, was unplaced at his first Toowoomba start on 26 January 1942 and then ran in a maiden event for two-year-olds. Bernborough finished second to a scrubber called Dunfor, but a protest was successful. Bernborough then won four more two-year-old races at Toowoomba.
As a three-year-old he raced three times for three wins and as a four-year-old he had two starts, once coming third and once unplaced. He had eight runs, all at Toowoomba, as a five-year-old for three wins, one second and was four times unplaced.
His Toowoomba record therefore stood at 11 wins from 19 starts—impressive, but not sensational, and certainly not the sort of credentials upon which many turf experts would later base their judgement that Bernborough, of all Australian thoroughbreds, was the greatest.
In later years many people closely associated with the Bernborough camp, which won a lot of money knowing when to back the ‘one day on—one day off ’ champ, revealed details which give reason to believe Bernborough could have won all those Toowoomba races in a canter.
Part 1 The Daylate–Brulad ‘ring-in’ scandal
The background to Bernborough’s restricted early racing went back to Queensland’s infamous Daylate–Brulad ‘ring-in’ scandal, when the Queensland Turf Club’s investigation led to the life disqualification of Oakey farmer Fred Bach.
In December 1938 a horse named Brulad, owned by Bach and trained by Con Doyle, flashed home at double-figure odds to run third behind Tollbar in the QTC Champagne Stakes at Eagle Farm. A week later the bay gelding, by Brutus out of Lady Chillington, was heavily backed at 3 to 1 and won the 5-furlong Oxley Handicap at Eagle Farm, despite badly missing the start. The time, 61.5 seconds, was the fastest registered by a two-year-old for the season.
Brulad was sent for a spell, returning in February 1939 for three disappointing unplaced runs. Then the horse began to show form. He ran third at Eagle Farm, before being well supported and defeating the odds-on favourite, top colt Brisbane River, in the 6-furlong Juvenile Handicap at Eagle Farm in April. After that win, Fred Bach was offered £1000 for Brulad but refused to sell.
Brulad was beaten in his last three starts of that season and then, as a three-year-old, failed to show any form and was beaten in six successive starts. The horse was now in the stable of Clive Morgan, who sent the horse back to Bach in February 1940, suggesting he needed a long spell. Morgan never saw the horse again and Fred Bach told the trainer that Brulad had died. The same year a four-year-old brown gelding, Daylate, by Listowel out of Fernie–hurst, was registered in the ownership of a certain J. Jackson.
Daylate’s first start resulted in a second place in a Hack Handicap at Warwick, in October 1940. A month later he won easily at Bundamba. Fred Bach was at the course and backed the horse for a small fortune. ‘If I had one win a year like I had at Bundamba,’ Bach later boasted, ‘I would be thoroughly satisfied.’ Daylate then ran third at Bundamba and fourth in a Trial Handicap at Eagle Farm.
On 4 January 1941, Daylate ran in another Trial Handicap at Eagle Farm. Leading jockey Russell Maddock was engaged and the horse was heavily backed in the betting ring. A mysterious ‘Lady in Black’ was reputed to have collected more than £1000 in winnings from bookmakers in the on-course betting ring alone. In 1941 that was enough to buy a couple of modest suburban homes in Brisbane.
The horse raced with the leaders until the 2-furlong mark and then dashed clear to win easily, beating a horse called Bullmar who was ridden by a youthful George Moore. Years later Maddock revealed, ‘I was asked only the night before the race to ride Daylate by the owner.’
No hint emerged that day of any behind-the-scenes drama, but the following Saturday QTC chief steward J.J. Lynch, accompanied by two racecourse detectives, arrived unannounced at the Doomben stables of Daylate’s trainer J.H. McIlwrick. The news spread like wildfire that authorities had made a thorough examination of Daylate.
A reporter tracked down Lynch and asked him why he had inspected Daylate. ‘I cannot discuss that with you,’ came the stern reply. It was also reported that two unnamed trainers, later identified as Con Doyle and Clive Morgan, who had previously trained Brulad, had also been asked to examine Daylate.
Neither trainer would make any comment but the rumour spread that Daylate bore a remarkable resemblance to Brulad, which Fred Bach had officially certified to the QTC office as being dead. Then Daylate suddenly disappeared from McIlwrick’s stables.
What had happened was that a country steward named Steve Bowen, enjoying an off-duty day at Eagle Farm, had raised initial doubts about Daylate’s identity and declared the winner was in fact Brulad. Similarly trainer Morgan told racecourse detective Charles Prentice that Daylate was Brulad. Prentice was at first dubious, but Bowen maintained he was
certain because Brulad had a particularly unusual mane, which hung in three sections across his neck whenever the horse tossed his head—Daylate’s mane fell in the same distinct pattern.
So Prentice and stewards Lynch and Williams set off in search of the mysterious owner of Daylate, ‘J. Jackson’, who had a postal address at a cattle station near Bowenville. When Prentice asked to speak to Jackson, the station mistress told him that all correspondence for J. Jackson was in fact handed to a Mrs F. Bacon, who was Fred Bach’s daughter.
Meanwhile a policeman turned up at Bach’s property near Oakey one night but was mysteriously shot at and wounded. Fred’s son Jack was later tried for the crime, but acquitted—he had an alibi to prove he wasn’t at the farm that evening.
When Prentice and his companions went to Bach’s farm, Fred Bach wasn’t there, but his son Jack told them Brulad’s body had been burned after the horse had died. Prentice later officially reported, ‘It was learned that the horse called Brulad had returned from Brisbane in a sick condition and subsequently died on Mister Frank Bach’s property at Blaxland. Mister Jack Bach said he saw Brulad when the horse was dead and assisted his brother to burn the carcass.’
When Prentice went to see Frank Bach, however, Frank said he knew nothing about Brulad and had not helped Jack burn the carcass of any horse. It was when Prentice returned to Brisbane that Daylate suddenly disappeared from McIlwrick’s stable.
Prentice, one jump ahead, had decided to ‘stake out’ the stables and caught Fred Bach absconding with Daylate. At about 10 p.m. he saw Fred Bach enter the yard. At 10:15 p.m. he heard ‘knocking and hammering’ and a few minutes later Bach led Daylate from the property. When he’d gone about 50 yards Prentice intercepted him and said, ‘Good night’.
