The Big Book of Australian Racing Stories Page 13

  It is part of Cup mythology that horses that win the great race often achieve little else. This is true to an extent, more so in the modern era when horses are more likely to be trained for one result only. It is also true that many horses that win the Cup are not true stayers, and the effort and training that goes into a Cup win leaves them with little left to win with again.

  Peter Pan, however, makes a mockery of the myth.

  His autumn campaign of 1935 saw the great horse, with Jim Pike back in the saddle, win five races from five starts. And they were not just any old races.

  Conditioned and trained to perfection by the ever-astute Frank McGrath, Peter Pan won the Randwick Stakes, Rawson Stakes, Autumn Plate, All-Aged Stakes and Jubilee Cup in succession, between late March and early May.

  Spelled again, he returned in the spring, as a six-year-old stallion, to take out another three from three: the Hill Stakes, Spring Stakes and Craven Plate. In the last two races his old foe Rogilla, unbitten and now a light of former days, finished third and fourth, respectively.

  Peter Pan, too, was looking like a horse nearing the end of his career. In spite of being undefeated in his past eight starts, the chestnut warrior was suffering constantly from rheumatism and only McGrath’s special care, patience and knowledge of the horse was keeping him fit. No trainer ever placed a horse to better advantage than Frank McGrath did with Peter Pan as a six-year-old.

  The trainer suggested to Rodney Dangar that another Melbourne Cup campaign was beyond the champion. There were even rumours about the horse’s health and McGrath, a trainer who always placed his horses’ welfare above all else, had to suffer the ignominy of having the RSPCA visit his stables to inspect the popular hero. They found him to be in excellent condition, fit and happy, and extremely well cared for.

  What more was there for the champion to achieve? He was the best stayer ever to race in the modern era, he was as popular as Phar Lap had been, and he had done something no stayer had managed to do since 1862. He was the glamour horse with the quirky personality and the film star looks and he brightened up the mood of a nation during the Great Depression.

  Dangar, however, was loath to scratch the horse from the Cup, as many people had invested money on the popular champion. In a compromise decision McGrath trained him for just two runs in Melbourne: the Melbourne Stakes and the Melbourne Cup.

  Public sentiment saw the great stayer sent out an odds-on favourite in the Melbourne Stakes, but he finished unplaced and three days later, carrying a crippling 10 st 6 lb (66 kg), he ran in the Cup at 8 to 1, with many people backing him out of sentiment and respect, rather than common sense.

  Peter Pan finished a creditable fourteenth behind Marabou in the 1935 Cup. He possibly could have finished closer if ridden out hard in the straight but Jim Pike, who loved the horse as much as anyone, eased him down when he realised he had no chance of winning.

  After a summer spell the champion looked as good as ever and it was decided to try one more campaign in the autumn of 1936. After an unplaced first-up run in the Randwick Stakes, the old Peter Pan emerged briefly and he ran a good second in the Rawson Stakes, and a creditable third to Sarcherie in the Autumn Plate at Randwick.

  Frank McGrath knew the horse well enough to tell Rodney Dangar that enough was enough, and Peter Pan retired in April 1936 to prepare for a stud career.

  He proved a reasonably successful sire, with Peter, from his first crop, winning the Williamstown Cup and Eclipse Stakes, and a later son, Precept, winning the Victoria Derby.

  Always his own worst enemy, the great stallion was prone to fits of madcap behaviour and coltish frolicking. In March 1941 he slipped over during one of these displays of hijinks and broke a leg so badly that he had to be confined in an attempt to heal the break. Sadly his high-spirited temperament was not amenable to confinement and the break was so bad that, after all efforts to save him had failed, he was put down.

  Before Randwick was remodelled in 2013, there was a large photograph of Peter Pan, entering the birdcage after one of his famous Randwick victories in 1934, located in the walkway between the Members’ Stand and the betting ring, and you passed it as you made your way back to the ring after each race.

  We don’t have many real staying races these days; it’s all about what Banjo Paterson called ‘your six-furlong vermin that scamper half-a-mile with a feather-weight up’. Staying these days is an art left mostly to dour old has-beens and overseas imports.

  Often, after I’d backed some poor excuse for a stayer in some weak mid-week staying race, I’d walk back to the ring despondent and pause in front of the photo of the beautiful chestnut.

  To anyone unlucky enough to be with me at the races that day, I’d say, ‘Hey, come here a minute and look at this horse in the photo—here’s a stayer.’

  HOW WE BACKED THE FAVOURITE

  C.J. DENNIS

  Peter Pan was so popular that C.J. Dennis wrote a poem about the public’s unerring faith in his ability to win the Cup. It was a parody of Adam Lindsay Gordon’s famous verse ‘How We Beat the Favourite’, written in the same style and rhyme scheme. While Gordon’s poem is a heroic tale of a titanic struggle, which celebrates the nobility and bravery of the racehorse, Dennis’s poem is about the confidence shown by the everyday ‘one shilling’ punters in the Cup favourite.

  Having been told that Peter Pan will win, the poet goes to see the horse and make up his own mind. Now, Peter Pan was arguably the most beautiful horse to ever win the Cup. C.J. Dennis sums up the horse with the mundane phrase ‘there was little he lacked’. You can’t get more Aussie than that!

  ***

  ‘Sure thing,’ said the grocer, ‘as far as I know, sir,

  This horse, Peter Pan, is the safest of certs.’

  ‘I see by the paper,’ commended the draper,

  ‘He’s tipped and he carries my whole weight of shirts.’

  The butcher said, ‘Well, now, it’s easy to tell now

  There’s nothing else in it except Peter Pan.’

  And so too the baker, the barman, bookmaker,

  The old lady char and the saveloy man.

  ‘You stick to my tip, man,’ admonished the grip-man,

  ‘Play up Peter Pan; he’s a stayer with speed.’

  And the newspaper vendor, the ancient road mender,

  And even the cop at the corner agreed.

  The barber said, ‘Win it? There’s nothing else in it.

  I backed Peter Pan with the last that I had.’

  ‘Too right,’ said the liftman. ‘The horse is a gift, man.’

  The old jobbing gardener said, ‘Peter Pan, lad!’

  I know nought of racing. The task I was facing,

  It filled me with pain and unreasoning dread.

  They all seemed so certain, and yet a dark curtain

  Of doubt dulled my mind . . . But I must keep my head!

  I went to the races, and I watched all their faces.

  I saw Peter Pan’s; there was little he lacked.

  And as he seemed willing, I plancked on my shilling

  And triumphed! And that’s how the favourite was backed.

  THE BERNBOROUGH STORY

  DAVID HICKIE

  Bernborough was foaled in 1939 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, onc
e 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 Ferniehurst, 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’.

  When Prentice asked his name Bach replied ‘Jackson’, but Prentice retorted, ‘You are Fred Bach.’

  Bach then said, ‘You are Mister Prentice, how are you?’ and shook hands.

  When Prentice asked, ‘Why are you mixing yourself up in this sort of thing?’ Bach appeared ‘flurried’ and said Jackson was down the road. Prentice saw two cars further down the street and in one were two men who refused to give their names.

  Eventually Bach confessed, ‘Now you’ve got me. There’s nobody else in this. There is only me. I am Jackson. I suppose I’ll get life. I’ll take full responsibility for everything.’

  At a subsequent QTC inquiry Fred Bach denied he had admitted being Jackson and refused to answer most questions. A CIB handwriting expert testified that the same person who had signed nomination forms for Daylate in the name of Jackson had also signed nomination forms for Brulad in the name of Bach.

  On 20 January 1941, QTC stewards disqualified Fred Bach for life. The ban also applied to his son, Jack.

  Part 2 Bernborough’s mysterious ownership history

  Fred Bach had two sons, John (known as Jack) and Frank. In 1940, some months before the Daylate–Brulad controversy, Jack had purchased the old mare Bern Maid, with a foal at foot, at the Rosalie Plains Stud dispersal, for 150 guineas.

  Bach subsequently claimed to have sold the foal to A.E. Hadwen but, when the horse was entered for a two-year-old event in Brisbane in 1942, QTC stewards rejected the nomination. An official reason was never given but it was generally accepted that it was because of the colt’s connection with the Bach family. Officials believed that the real owner was still Jack Bach.

  The horse was then sent to Sydney, ostensibly by Hadwen, and trialled at Rosehill, but the AJC affirmed the Brisbane ban and refused any nomination for the colt. So Bernborough was banned from racing on any of the major tracks across Austr
alia.

  Only the Queensland country course at Toowoomba accepted the bona fide of Bernborough’s sale. This they did after an inquiry, allegedly conducted by Darling Downs steward George Kirk, into the authenticity of a receipt signed by J.R. Bach for the sale of Bernborough to Hadwen for 140 guineas.

  Hadwen said he bought the horse on 22 June 1940, after asking Bach to find him a good horse. Bernborough was then purportedly leased to trainer J. Roberts and raced solely in Toowoomba for four seasons, winning 11 races under often-enormous weights.

  Finally, in October 1945, the champion was sent to Sydney as a six-year-old, to be sold at public auction. Flamboyant restaurant and nightclub owner Azzalin Romano duly purchased him for Harry Plant to train at Randwick.

  Romano had been told to purchase the horse by Plant and paid 2600 guineas for him. After the sale to Romano the QTC lifted its ban on Bernborough. Hence the champ raced on city tracks only in his sixth and seventh years—winning 15 of his 18 races in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane, at distances from 6 furlongs to one and a half miles.

  Bernborough was a six-year-old bay stallion, then, when jockey Athol George Mulley first rode him. Mulley later recalled, ‘Bailey Payten, to whom I was apprenticed, told me there was a very good horse from Queensland to come up for auction. He said he would like to buy him. He was prepared to pay up to £10,000 or, being conservative, at least £5000.’

  Payten told Mulley, ‘I could afford to buy him, but it wouldn’t matter how much money I’ve got he can’t be bought, so I won’t worry.’

  Years later Mulley explained this cryptic comment by hinting that Romano was not the sole owner of Bernborough and told of an argument he overheard between the two men concerned late one night when trainer Harry Plant was not present.

  ‘My old boss, Bailey Payten, always maintained that there was no chance of anyone else ever buying Bernborough when he was put up for auction in Sydney,’ Mulley said. ‘He said that too many influential men of the day were involved and suggested that a certain bill of sale would have made interesting reading.’