The names of some famous broodmares are scattered throughout the pages of the Australian Stud Book, but the name of one stands out as pre-eminent.  It is that of Juliet.  We first met her in our 1869 chapter when her son Charon won the Derby, but in the 1873 renewal of the classic, Juliet’s influence was to be even more profound for not only did another of her son’s in Benvolio win the race, but a grandson from her daughter, Sylvia, also ran the minor placing.  At the time of Charon’s Derby victory the greatness that lay in store for the several foals of Juliet could only be guessed at, but by the time Benvolio came along, it was already apparent that a most remarkable strain of bloodstock had stolen upon the scene.

Pray, allow me to resume the thread of Juliet that was left hanging in our chronicle of 1869.  Upon her arrival in Australia, this daughter of Touchstone had dropped a filly foal by Stockwell in the Maribyrnong paddocks, subsequently named Chrysolite.  Juliet was not mated with a horse the season Chrysolite was born, and in 1862 she slipped her foal, while the next season she missed altogether.  We can’t be sure, but it is more than likely that both services were by Fisherman.  It was most certainly to Fisherman that she foaled successfully the very next season and the lovely bay filly was subsequently registered as Sylvia.

Sylvia, who was bred by Hurtle Fisher, actually raced in the colours of his brother Charles, who by then had taken over the Maribyrnong Stud. Her two-year-old season was ruined because of an accident she suffered when being landed in Sydney aboard the City of Melbourne in late March 1867 – on the eve of the autumn meeting, which left her with some unsightly scars on her legs.  Still, she recovered and although only lightly raced, did manage to win the 1867 V.R.C. Oaks.  At the end of an unsuccessful four-year-old season she was retired, and when Charles Fisher sold out of the Maribyrnong Stud the first time, George Petty acquired her along with all of the other breeding stock.  As we have seen, it was Petty who was responsible for bringing Fireworks back to stand stallion duty at Maribyrnong, and it was in those famous paddocks in late August 1870 that Sylvia gave birth to a strapping bay colt by the triple Derby winner.  A great deal of interest was aroused among sportsmen from the moment of the colt’s birth, and as he furnished into a fine specimen as a yearling, there was much speculation as to just how much he would realise in the auction ring and who would be the cashed-up buyer prepared to hazard the money.

Enter ‘Honest’ John Tait.  During the decade that began with the victory of Fireworks in 1867, Tait sent forth a succession of high-class horses from the gates of Byron Lodge to challenge for the richest prizes on the Australian Turf, and it is fair to say, no man had ever enjoyed a greater measure of success.  In the years since the champion filly Florence achieved the Derby treble, Tait’s lodestar had remained in the ascendant.  In 1871 and 1872 he had taken out the Melbourne Cup with The Pearl and The Quack respectively, each of which raced in his name. Apart from the prize money, The Pearl’s victory hadn’t been particularly profitable as Pyrrhus had been the stable elect that year.  Indeed, Tait was so dismissive of The Pearl’s chance that he declined bookmaker Austin Saqui’s challenge of £1,000 to £10 as the horses left the saddling paddock.

No such misjudgement marred the pleasure attending The Quack’s triumph the following year.  The six-year-old bay horse, despite a chequered passage, had run the minor placing in the A.J.C. Metropolitan won by Dagworth in race record time. It might not have been a coup landed with the meticulous finesse of the Druid’s Lodge Confederacy, but The Quack, a half-brother to the 1870 Melbourne Cup winner Nimblefoot, won some good bets for Tait and his associates. Nonetheless, after the stable commission secured double-figure odds in the days leading up to the race, only 5/1 was on offer on Cup Day itself.   It was rewards such as these that enabled the Master of Byron Lodge to pay top sovereign for any well-bred yearling that took his fancy.  But for all of the expensive bloodstock that Tait was to acquire during his lifetime, none had a more considerable influence on the Australian Turf than the stable’s representative in the 1873 A.J.C. Derby.

The story of this partnership begins in January 1872 just a couple of months after Tait won his third Melbourne Cup.  The canny owner-trainer visited the Maribyrnong Stud and George Petty’s sale of yearlings held after the Midsummer Meeting at Flemington.  Eleven lots in all were auctioned that day, but it was just one in particular that interested Tait and that, of course, was Juliet’s grandson – the striking bay colt from Sylvia.  It was a remarkable family that was already showing distinct signs of being a mother lode of gold on racecourses.  Sylvia’s full sister, Ragpicker, had managed to run second in the Oaks at Flemington and the Derby at Randwick, while her three-quarter brother, Charon, had won the Derby there.

A late August foal, the colt in question was a picture of size, symmetry and balance, and Tait was eventually forced to go to 650 guineas to secure possession – the second highest price paid for any of the eleven lots, which aggregated a total of 3880 guineas.  I might mention that the most expensive yearling sold that day – a colt from Rose de Florence that went for 700 guineas and raced as Dante, was a failure that Tait did well to leave alone.  About a fortnight after the sales, the Master of Byron Lodge returned to Sydney by steamer with his latest yearling colt together with Pyrrhus and Titania, older horses that he had been campaigning in Victoria.

Tait gave more thought to the registration of the Sylvia colt than any that ever passed through his hands.  For some time, he had wanted to name a racehorse after one of his closest confidantes, and the canny Scotsman wasn’t a man to share his confidences lightly.  The colleague in question was the Australian wool king, Richard Goldsbrough.  A native of Shipley, Yorkshire, in the heart of the English woollen district, Goldsbrough came to Australia in 1847 at the age of twenty-six and proceeded to make his fortune by becoming Australia’s most prominent wool broker, after basing his operations in Melbourne.  Few captains of industry in those roaring days remained aloof from the racecourse and Goldsbrough was no exception.  He was one of the select few that attended the famous meeting at Scott’s Hotel on March 9, 1864, that saw the Victoria Racing Club come into existence, and he became one of the foundation stewards and ultimately a committeeman of the institution. Although his passion for the Turf was genuine, it wasn’t known for sure that he ever owned a racehorse, and at no time did he ever register his own colours.


Goldsbrough at the Tocal Stud

Nonetheless, Richard Goldsbrough’s relationship with Tait was such that there was more than a suspicion that the genial Yorkshire man shared an interest in many of John Tait’s triumphs.  Such was their intimate friendship that Tait had longed to register a racehorse called in his friend’s honour, but it had to be a noble steed worthy of the name. Although the Sylvia colt was ultimately destined to bear the name – and I will use both descriptions alternately in this chapter – almost two years would pass before Tait felt assured this son of Fireworks would do the name Goldsbrough justice.  Just like the famous wool broker, the handsome brown colt possessed both a massive frame and a genial disposition. Very early in his gallops, the horse suggested he might uphold his aristocratic pedigree and Tait allowed him to carry silk for the first time at the V.R.C. Spring Meeting when he finished fourth in the Maribyrnong Plate behind Dagmar.  It was his only appearance as a juvenile and Tait then despatched him to the paddock to afford him the opportunity to grow into his magnificent frame and mature into a genuine Derby candidate.

Richard Goldsbrough

The running of that Maribyrnong Plate that year wasn’t entirely wasted on John Tait, despite the Sylvia colt’s failure.  The canny trainer was very much taken with another juvenile by his old favourite, Fireworks, that had started in the same race and run a creditable second.  The horse in question, My Leah, was a bonny filly out of Art Union, a daughter of Fisherman and the classically bred Gildermire – one of the merry harem that had accompanied that great stallion when he was brought out to these shores.  My Leah raced that day in the nomination of prominent Melbourne bookmaker Austin Saqui, but very soon after the race, Tait made Saqui an offer he couldn’t refuse.  Tait possessed both a fat wallet and an unerring eye for potential in two-year-olds as the acquisition of the likes of Fireworks and Glencoe already attested, and in securing this filly for Byron Lodge, the trainer’s insight was to be proven yet again.

The Sylvia colt might have been in the spelling paddock when the rich juvenile races were decided in the autumn of 1873, but in this Art Union filly, Tait had found the perfect substitute.  Changing her name to Rose d’Amour, Tait almost pulled off the Ascot Vale Stakes when she was beaten less than a length by the future Victoria Derby winner, Lapidist, a son of Chrysolite, and thus a very near relation of Goldsbrough.  It was a portent of things to come. For Rose d’Amour came on in leaps and bounds when brought across to Sydney, and at the Randwick autumn fixture, she easily won the Champagne Stakes by five lengths before relegating Benvolio a length into second placing in the Sires’ Produce Stakes.  Honest John Tait firmly believed that he had two genuine contenders for the A.J.C. Derby, come springtime.


Sydney’s winter spent itself in a succession of rainy days in 1873, and it rendered life difficult for those trainers preparing their charges for the Derby, run that year as early as the last Saturday in August.  The Hawkesbury Race Club altered its programme in 1873, the Hawkesbury Derby becoming the Hawkesbury Guineas, with the distance reduced to a mile.  Although badly in need of some hard racing, Goldsbrough finished runner-up to Sterling in the Guineas; but he blotted his copybook badly when he couldn’t run a drum in the Maiden Plate on the second day. Both Goldsbrough and Rose d’Amour were big animals that failed to come to hand quickly, and while Tait reluctantly withdrew the filly from the A.J.C. Derby, he kept the Sylvia colt in the race more out of hope than expectation.

The extraordinary series of wet Saturdays had suggested the prospect of a Derby Day bathed in sunshine most unlikely, but the gods were kind, and the great race was conducted under clear skies.  There had been few changes to the course since the previous year, although Mr Clibborn had rewarded pressmen with a better reporting box, and perhaps more importantly, a writing room.  A field of nine, including three fillies, accepted for the classic and while bookmakers kept the Sylvia colt at a safe 5/1, the race wore an open aspect with Benvolio, FitzYattendon and Sterling all preferred by the public.

Benvolio owed his prominence mainly to having finished runner-up to Rose d’Amour in the Sires’ Produce Stakes the previous autumn, and the Derby represented his first essay on the Turf in the new season. FitzYattendon was the first of those classically-bred Yattendon colts that carried the colours of the Governor of NSW, Sir Hercules Robinson, in the Derby.  Bred at Fernhill by the Hon. E. K. Cox, he was out of a well-bred daughter of the great Birdcatcher and came into the race having started only once on a racecourse when he ran unplaced in the 1873 A.J.C. Sires’ Produce Stakes. He owed his market prominence both to the eminence of his owner, and some impressive gallops on the training grounds.

Next fancied in the betting was Thomas Ivory’s Sterling, yet another son of Yattendon. Sterling had made his racecourse debut at the Bathurst Annual Races in March when he easily won the Nursery Stakes (6f) by four lengths, but he had failed to place in either the Champagne Stakes or Sires’ Produce Stakes won by Rose d’Amour.  Perhaps the most interesting outsider in the Derby field was Excelsior. Unplaced in the Champagne Stakes at his only start at two, he had been well-tried in the new season having appeared a half-dozen times already, including four wins in three days at the Goulburn spring fixture.

The 1873 A.J.C. Derby field and race conditions appear in the table below:


A crowd estimated at somewhere between eight and ten thousand people witnessed Mr Gannon despatch the Derby field to a fine start after a minimal delay.  The colours of Goldsbrough and Sterling showed most prominently and Hybla soon led by five lengths going past the stand, from Sterling and Goldsbrough, with Excelsior and Benvolio fourth and fifth respectively.  Hybla cut out the work for the next half-mile until she died away and Jimmy Ashworth dashed the Sylvia colt to the front down the far side of the course.  At the beginning of the hill, Sterling and FitzYattendon on the extreme outside joined him, and this trio raced up the hill and to the bend at a great rate.  The pace soon told on them, however, and on the home turn, both Benvolio and Excelsior ran past them quite easily, with the South Australian colt going on to win the blue riband by six lengths.  Ashworth coaxed another effort from the Sylvia colt, and he stayed on strongly in the straight to defeat the pair that had bested him in the Hawkesbury Guineas to be only beaten a half-length for second money behind Excelsior.


The winner, Benvolio, a nice wiry chestnut, was bred by Mr R. J. Hunter of Woodstock, Victoria and was purchased as a yearling by T. J. Ryan for 510 guineas. His sire, Peter Wilkins, was an English stallion by The Flying Dutchman and was bred by Lord Stradbroke and foaled in 1853.  Peter Wilkins was not particularly successful at stud in Australia, and apart from Benvolio, his only other notable progeny were the Melbourne Cup winner, The Quack, and Rosalie, who won The Shorts a few days after Benvolio’s Derby.  Benvolio’s first appearance had come in the Maribyrnong Plate won by Dagmar, when he ran fifth, and later at that same meeting, he had run last in the Flying Stakes.  Benvolio made a brief, unplaced appearance at the V.R.C. Midsummer Meeting before similar anonymity in two races at their autumn meeting.  It wasn’t until he got to Randwick that he disclosed his true ability in his first season, with a gallant second behind Rose d’Amour in the Sires’ Produce Stakes, beating nearly all of Sydney’s best youngsters.


That very accomplished South Australian horseman, Harry Tothill, trained Benvolio, as he did all of T. J. Ryan’s horses.  Tothill began his racing life as a stable boy and acquired the rudiments of Turf lore in Hurtle Fisher’s establishment. He soon showed an aptitude for the pigskin, both on the racecourse and across country, and included among his many victories was the 1869 Adelaide Cup on T. J. Ryan’s Cupbearer, as well as three Adelaide St Legers.  Increasing weight saw him re-cast his service for his principal patron, and until Ryan’s departure for the Continent in 1874, Tothill acted as the young man’s private trainer.  Soon after his split with Ryan, Tothill was engaged in the same capacity for the Honourable Thomas Elder, moving into a neat stone lodge at the owner’s Glenelg stud and stables, which were in proximity to the Adelaide racecourse.

Tothill was quite successful for the owner of the tartan jacket, winning numerous races with inferior bloodstock before being deposed in favour of the Dakin brothers after almost four years.  After that, Tothill became a public trainer working out of his Somerton stables and winning respect and patronage from some of South Australia’s leading sportsmen including the likes of John Pile and James Aldridge. Tothill’s career as a public trainer was to be cut tragically short in June 1891 when he was knocked down in King William-street by a grocer’s cart and died the following day from the effects of the injuries.


It was the second A.J.C. Derby in succession for jockey Tom Brown, who had scored on Loup Garou the year before.  A talented rider, Brown enjoyed considerable success in the saddle at Randwick in distance races having won The Metropolitan in successive years in 1869 and 1870 on Circassian and Croydon respectively.  A cool rider, Brown could sometimes become overconfident on a horse, something that was borne out in the Spring Stakes, the race immediately following Benvolio’s Derby.  Brown was again sporting the colours of T. J. Ryan on his horse, The Ace, and was just beaten on the post by Dagworth after trying to make too nice a thing of it.


T. J. Ryan, the lucky owner, enjoyed a short but merry career on the Australian Turf. Originally from South Australia but later settling in Victoria, his first recorded win in a classic race came with the Adelaide Leger of 1868, which he won with Regalia, running in the name of Mr W. Gerrard. On the same day his Cupbearer won the Trial Stakes and in 1869 the same galloper, in the increasingly familiar green and scarlet colours, pulled off the Adelaide Cup.  Benvolio apart, perhaps Leo and The Ace were the finest racehorses to carry his colours.  Leo, a son of the imported Irish stallion, Leonidas, won both the Champion Race and the Launceston Cup at the 1873 Launceston meeting; while The Ace won both the All-Aged Stakes and Cumberland Stakes at the 1873 Randwick Autumn Meeting as well as the Adelaide St Leger the year before. Kingfisher also placed some tidy stakes to the credit of the South Australian sportsman.

It proved to be a particularly profitable Randwick meeting for T. J. Ryan and his South Australian contingent of horses.  His six-year-old horse, Kingfisher, managed to dead-heat for first in the Epsom Handicap under the guidance of Tom Hales.  Mr Eccles, the owner of Atalanta, the other horse sharing the dead-heat, agreed to divide the stake and Kingfisher then walked over the course.  Ryan finished the meeting as the leading owner although in those days the prize for the Epsom wasn’t as large as now, with the club then only adding one hundred sovereigns.  Still, T.J. Ryan pocketed over a thousand pounds in stakes alone from the meeting, not to mention a sizeable sum in bets.  But no sooner had the settling for the meeting taken place at Tattersall’s Hotel than Ryan received a hefty slice of bad luck.

Benvolio, when being loaded onto the Melbourne steamer to meet his commitments in both the Victoria Derby and Melbourne Cup, slipped on the pier, and, falling heavily, was so severely injured that he died just a few hours later.  A couple of months on, Ryan placed all his horses for sale at auction with Yuille and Co. in Melbourne, and the popular owner departed for an extended tour of the Continent and England.  He died suddenly in England in December 1875 – not quite 30 years of age. Fortunately for sporting aficionados with a love of equine art and Australia’s Turf heritage, in the year before his premature death, Ryan had commissioned a fine oil painting from the brush of Fred Woodhouse of his favourite racehorses.  In one of his more inspired canvases, the artist set the scene on the Flemington course in front of the recently built grandstand.


There were many among the crowd and not a few sceptical pressmen who doubted whether, in fact, the best colt had won the A.J.C. Derby. Rowley Pickering of the Sydney Mail, who wrote under the pseudonym of Nemo, argued that while the best horse may have won, far too much use was made of Goldsbrough, Sterling and FitzYattendon. The jockeys on the last three horses named, judging from their behaviour at the back of the course, would seem to have thought that the winning-post was at the last turn.  All three appeared to forget that there was anything else in the race.  But whereas Fitz-Yattendon and Stirling knocked up in the straight, the Sylvia colt showed real grit to the very end, demonstrating that he had improved pounds since the Hawkesbury Guineas.  Pickering observed that perhaps the fellow had the makings of a real racehorse after all.  That the Derby form might be a touch suspect was certainly given credence on the second day of the meeting when, after starting favourite for the Maiden Plate, Benvolio could only manage third behind Fitz-Yattendon and the Sylvia colt.


The respective fortunes of Juliet’s son and grandson could hardly have been more different in the wake of that 1873 Spring Meeting.  Whereas Benvolio met that untimely death in attempting to embark the steamer to Melbourne, Goldsbrough made it on board, but the sea voyage proved so rough and the buffeting he received so bad, that it confined him to his stable box for nine days upon disembarking. Indeed, for a time Tait feared the horse might be seriously injured.  Such inactivity for so gross a colt cruelled any chance he had in the Victoria Derby, won that year by his near relative Lapidist, and he missed the Melbourne Cup entirely.

Nonetheless, in time Goldsbrough was to mature into the best stayer in the land.  It wasn’t until his twelfth start that the Sylvia colt broke through for his maiden win, and when it came, it was at all places, in the Maiden Plate at the December annual meeting of the Bendigo Jockey Club when he had just one rival.  But Tait knew that the big colt was only now gaining the strength to match his frame.  At the Flemington Midsummer Meeting on New Year’s Day, he was started twice. Firstly winning the Three-Year-Old Handicap (12f) in which he beat the Victoria Derby winner, and later on the card running a gallant second in the Canterbury Stakes (2 ½ m) behind Joe Thompson’s Don Juan, winner of the previous Melbourne Cup. But for racing erratically, he may well have made it a double.

Always intending to start the colt in both St Legers, Tait surprised many when he returned him to Randwick in early January to avoid the flint-hard nature of the Flemington training ground.  The horse was badly underdone when he could only manage third in the V.R.C. St Leger in his first start in nine weeks, but the Master of Byron Lodge had the big fellow cherry ripe for the A.J.C. equivalent.  The bookmakers generously bet double figures about the son of Fireworks, and with Jimmy Ashworth providing the navigation, Goldsbrough won cleverly by a half-length from his stablemate, Rose d’Amour – the filly that had already proved her classic credentials the previous spring by appropriating the V.R.C. Oaks and Mares’ Produce Stakes for Byron Lodge.

Perhaps the real significance of Goldsbrough’s victory in the A.J.C. St Leger, however, lay in the fact that it was the first time that the Sylvia colt appeared on the race card with that name.  It was almost as if Tait withheld the ultimate compliment to his wool broker friend until he was confident that the horse would embellish it with classic glory.  A few days later, despite again racing erratically near the bushes, Goldsbrough ran a most respectable sixth in the Sydney Cup before winning the Autumn Stakes on the third day of the meeting.

As a four-year-old, Goldsbrough won the rich Hawkesbury Grand Handicap (2 m) at his seasonal debut by six lengths but failed to triumph again that year in seven more appearances.  However, his series of placings included an unlucky second in the A.J.C. Metropolitan with 8 st. 7lb, conceding 15lb in weight to the winner, Sterling, one of the beaten brigade in that 1873 Derby.  Kept in training as a five-year-old, Goldsbrough went one better in the 1875 A.J.C. Metropolitan on that memorable occasion when he carried 9 st. 2lb to a narrow but emphatic victory over Kingsborough.  The merit of Goldsbrough’s performance that day did not so much lie with the quality of the opposition as in the condition of the track, and the time he took over the two miles – the distance of the race in those days.  Randwick was then very much a sandy course – it had not then been topped with loam – and to run 3 minutes 32.2 seconds with his weight was considered by many as the finest performance in the race up to that time.

Goldsbrough, with Jimmy Ashworth aloft, ran a mighty race in the Melbourne Cup later that spring when he carried the top weight of 9 st 9lb into the minor placing behind the lightweights, Wollomai and Richmond.  Goldsbrough carried the same weight when a gallant second behind Richmond (7 st. 1lb) in the Champion Race on New Year’s Day – in the era when three-year-olds, because of the race conditions, were well-nigh unbeatable.  Tait then set the big son of Sylvia for the Australian Cup, but the horse was prevented from taking his place after getting cast in his box. Goldsbrough wasn’t quite the same after that and finished unplaced in both the Sydney Cup and City Handicap at the A.J.C. Autumn Meeting in what proved to be his final campaign.  A few weeks after the close of that meeting the magnificent stallion was placed in the hands of W.C. Yuille & Co. for sale.  Goldsbrough’s complete racing record was 37 starts for 6 wins, 11 seconds and 8 thirds.


Allow me a final word on the famous broodmare, Juliet, before she passes from these pages.  She only produced one foal after Benvolio, and that was The Hook, winner of the 1879 Doncaster Handicap for Eli Jellett.  Juliet was carrying a foal by Tom King in 1872 when she unfortunately misplaced it while rolling.  It was only with difficulty that the old mare’s life was saved, but she remained barren thereafter, eventually dying at R. J. Hunter’s Woodstock Stud in Victoria in April 1877 at 26-years of age.  We will find Juliet’s name recur again and again throughout these pages, as so many of her descendants continued to add lustre to the line.

But how much more remarkable might her achievements have been, had several of her family not met with violent deaths?  Just consider that Cleolite was killed at Kyneton, Charon and Capulet at Flemington, Benvolio in Sydney and her grandson, Robin Hood, in the treacherous seas when being shipped to Melbourne.  Sylvia, Juliet’s most distinguished daughter, didn’t end her illustrious stud life with Goldsbrough and Robin Hood.  As we shall see, in 1880 she dropped the great Martini-Henry, the horse who won the Victoria Derby and Melbourne Cup at his first two starts. Martini-Henry might have been the last of Sylvia’s high-class sons on the racecourse, but she continued to drop a number of filly foals including Woodnymph, Elfin, Engagement and Forest Queen, each of whom produced at least one winner of a principal race on the Australasian Turf.

Perhaps the finest acknowledgement of Sylvia’s stature came as early as 1882 when the Auckland Stud Company amalgamated with the Pedigree Stud Company and founded a new Stud.  And the name?   None other than Sylvia Park!  When Sylvia Park was dispersed in January 1891, Thomas Morrin bought the famous mare for 125 guineas together with her filly by Ingomar, and it was at his Wellington Park Stud in Auckland that the grand old dam died on 21st December 1892.


It was a singularly lucky hour for Frank Reynolds and the Tocal Stud when Goldsbrough found his way there.  The shrewd studmaster negotiated with John Tait and secured a deal that saw Goldsbrough replace The Barb at Tocal, with the latter once more going into Byron Lodge to be trained, albeit briefly.  Tocal boasted depth in their stallion ranks in those days, and Reynolds had stood the celebrated stallion Kelpie at Tocal during his last few seasons, and in Goldsbrough, his grandson was intent on securing a continuation of the line.  The best of stallions stamp their stock early and get winners from the start.  That was certainly true insofar as Goldsbrough was concerned. Goldsbrough’s progeny first appeared in the 1879-80 racing season, and his first success came as early as September when Galatea won both the Two-Year-Old Stakes and Sapling Stakes at the Brisbane meeting.

This initial crop included Hilarious, one of the best juveniles in New Zealand, as well as Kamilaroi, winner of the Sires’ Produce Stakes at Randwick.  Another to show promise was Cinnamon, a daughter of Goldsbrough that carried James White’s colours to finish just behind the place-getters in the Maribyrnong Plate, although her real claim to fame would come later at stud.  In the 1881 breeding season, which proved to be Kelpie’s last and by which time Goldsbrough had two full crops racing, Frank Reynolds’s schedule of service fees for his stallions showed Kelpie at 20 guineas, Goldsbrough at 15 guineas and The Drummer at 8 guineas.  Goldsbrough was well and truly poised to seize the crown on that cold autumn day in May 1882 when the aged Kelpie died at Tocal.

Goldsbrough went on to sire 19 individual notable winners of 34 principal races as defined by WJ McFadden’s book ‘Thoroughbred Sires of Australia and New Zealand’.  The distances ranged from the C.J.C. Welcome Stakes over 4 furlongs to the three miles of the A.J.C. Randwick Plate and V.R.C. Champion Stakes won by Melos, who was arguably Goldsbrough’s finest stayer although another son, Arsenal, did win the Melbourne Cup.  His daughter, Crossfire, won the 1886 Doncaster Handicap while only a two-year-old and the following season went on to win the Oaks at Randwick.  None of Goldsbrough’s sons proved particularly successful at stud, although Arsenal did manage to sire Murmur, winner of a Newmarket and Caulfield Cup, while one or two others got some useful winners.

No, the true measure of Goldsbrough as a stallion didn’t come until his fillies began to do their extraordinary stuff in the breeding paddocks.  Goldsbrough sired the dams of, among others, Abercorn, Wallace, Trenton, Seahorse, Siege Gun, Wild Rose, Downfall, Hautvilliers, Flavinius, Spice, Street Arab, Air Motor, Alawa, Althotas, Churchill, Cuirassier, Eric and Even Time.  Perhaps Goldsbrough’s profound influence on the Australian Turf is best demonstrated by a statistic on A.J.C. Derby winners alone.  Abercorn, the winner of the classic in 1887, was the first to have Goldsbrough blood coursing through his veins, being a son of the aforementioned Cinnamon.  In the 91 years from 1887, until the Derby was last run during the springtime in 1977, Goldsbrough appeared somewhere in the pedigree of no fewer than 27 winners.

I do not wish to render this account merely as a book of lists, but those 27 winners include some of the luminaries of the Australian Turf.  In the interests of completeness I attach their names: Abercorn, Melos, Trenchant, Hautvilliers, Belah, Sylvanite, Mountain King, Cisco, Beragoon, Mountain Knight, Biplane, Artilleryman, Tregilla, Peter Pan, Talking, Reading, Laureate, Main Topic, Playboy, Caranna, Summer Fair, Royal Sovereign, Swift Peter, Silver Sharpe, Classic Mission, Taras Bulba and Battle Sign.

After a long and productive life, Goldsbrough died at Tocal in August 1898; he was buried in the village paddock with a kurrajongs tree planted on his breast and a stone placed at his head.  No epitaph could possibly have been written on it that matched the one Goldsbrough had already made for himself both in the Stud Book and in the racing calendar.  Surveying the priceless Goldsbrough broodmares in the Tocal paddocks and the simple grave, one might have reflected on Sir Christopher Wren’s motto: si monumentum requiris, circumspice (“if you require a monument, look around you.”).  In the light of Goldsbrough’s extraordinary success at stud, given the similarity in their bloodlines, it is tempting to speculate as to what Benvolio might have achieved had he too, been spared to serve?


Goldsbrough was John Tait’s last great racehorse.  There would be other good horses with which he would try to win the Derby again – most notably Melbourne – and although he gained placings, the days of dominance by Byron Lodge were drawing to a close.  Tait’s last big race success came when Amendment won The Metropolitan in 1877.  Diagnosed with a weak heart, Tait wound down his affairs as the decade of the 1870s expired.  ‘Caspian’ writing in the Australian Town and Country Journal in May 1880 on the eve of Tait’s departure for a holiday in England, estimated that between 1865 and 1880 Tait had won almost £30,000 in stakes alone, excluding added money.

It was while on that visit to England that in London in August he married the widow who had already borne him six children.  Upon his return from the Old Country, Tait took up residence at Toddington on The Boulevard, in the inner-Sydney suburb of Petersham where he proved to be a most amiable and generous host to many of his former racing confreres.  His years of retirement from the Turf were by no means idle, for apart from being an active Justice of the Peace he was a committeeman of the Animal Protection Society and a New South Wales commissioner for both the Adelaide (1887) and Melbourne (1888) Exhibitions.  Tait never entirely abandoned racing and to the end of his days regularly attended the Saturday fixture despite declining health.

A measure of Tait’s status in the Sydney sporting community came in March 1886 when, on the eve of his last visit to Europe, he was entertained at a banquet at Baumann’s Refreshment Rooms in Pitt-street to celebrate both his upcoming trip and his 70th birthday of five months earlier.  The five times Premier of New South Wales, Sir John Robertson, was in the chair and the company included the then Premier, Patrick Jennings, together with other premiers in George Dibbs and George Reid as well as such sporting luminaries as James White, William Long, and Edward Lee.  That guest list is indicative of the sway that the Turf held in the upper echelons of political life in the colony during Australia’s gilded age.  It was in May 1888 that John Tait collapsed and died of heart failure while in a train en route from his Petersham residence into the city.  He was buried in Waverley cemetery without religious rites and left an estate valued at almost £25,000.

Tait’s faithful servant and trainer, Jimmy Ashworth followed his former boss to the grave almost five years later.  As Tait’s activities at Byron Lodge diminished in the late 1870s, Ashworth accepted the position of A.J.C. Clerk of the Course; his debut in that guise came on Easter Monday, 1879, on the first day of the autumn meeting.  The position in those days carried with it similar functions on behalf of Tattersall’s Club and, until just before Ashworth’s death, proprietary racecourses in the metropolitan area as well.  Ashworth was performing his duties at Warwick Farm on that fateful day in October 1892 when he met with an accident that ultimately claimed his life.  After the horses had passed the post in the Welter Handicap, the opening race on the card, Ashworth mounted on his favourite cob, was returning to the stand when he collided with the mare Cushla, ridden by the implausibly named G. Gee.  Both riders were thrown, but whereas Gee escaped injury, Ashworth sustained a broken thigh and was removed to Prince Alfred Hospital, where he died almost a month later.  A single man with neither wife nor child to mourn him, Ashworth passed from the scene bequeathing a modest legacy of £1,265.


And what became of those famous Byron Lodge stables on Randwick hill, over which Tait ruled for so long as if a despot with a rod of iron, with Ashworth obeying his every command?  The stables did survive the two men, and continued to be used, but not for long.  By the time the Great War broke out in August 1914 the old house, too, had disappeared, replaced by a string of cottages.  Derelict remains of the old stables that had once housed the likes of The Barb and Florence lingered on for just a few years longer.