“MELBOURNE. October 9.-E.A.
Connelly, one of the dominating personalities of the Australian turf for many
years, died at his home at Toorak today, after a brief illness. He was aged 64
years. For 30 years he had been prominent in sporting circles as a racehorse
owner and heavy bettor.” - Border Watch October 10, 1944
After the massive 1930 double, for
the next 15 years until his death in 1944, Eric Connolly’s fortune shrunk at an
alarming rate. Much of this came from his close association with Lou
Robertson’s stable with the two constantly orchestrating unsuccessful betting
plunges. There were the occasional victory but these were only flashes of
success. By the 1944 spring carnival, Eric Connolly’s health had been in steady
decline for much of the year. He ceased his ownership in horses the year
before. In early October, Connolly fell ill watching track work and was rushed
home. While many health scares occurred since his near fatal heart attack in
1929, this time around there would be no recovering. His condition steadily
worsened over the next week. Although chronically ill, the week allowed him to
put his affairs in order and friends to see him one last time. Finally, on 9th
October 1944, Australian racing lost one of its greatest contributors. He was
the stuff of myth and legend, so of course even in death Connolly remained
controversial.
Eric Connolly continued betting
right up to the time he died age of 64 of coronary thrombosis.[i]
Even after his heart attack in 1929 Connolly kept on chain smoking, betting and
generally changing very little of his lifestyle. Part of this came from his
experience during a trip to Europe in 1926. At that stage Connolly was reckoned
to be worth in excess £300,000 or in modern terms upwards of $50,000,000. By
his own admission he could have lived anywhere he desired and not have to worry
about money for the remainder of his days. He witnessed firsthand retirees
lazing down on the French Riviera, and to his eyes, appearing to be dying of
boredom. Whether they were or not, Connolly admitted this lifestyle would have
sent him to the madhouse. Yet a journalist persisted with his questions in a
1931 interview knowing that Eric Connolly was further risking his health by
smoking and the constant stress brought about by his high stakes gambling. On some days, this could just as easily been
many others in the racing game or business world answering.
“What would I do if I retired? When
I went to England in 1926 I had an open mind about retiring. I didn’t like
England’s climate, crossed over to the south of France and stayed in a place
where only the richest remain. Men who have retired have every luxury and can
laze around in the sunshine for as long as they wish. Before I had been there a
week I decided that retirement, even under the most luxurious of circumstances
was not for me. If I knew for certain I was going to die in the morning, I
would want to be at the races today.”[ii]
True to his word, the only
concession Connolly gave to his declining health was forgoing early morning
training sessions. While he experienced indifferent health since his 1929 heart
attack, unfortunately so too did his wife Ada. She passed away from heart
disease and pneumonia in November 1937[iii].
All the while his finances declined. Connolly was forced into selling his grand
Brighton mansion “Colonna”[iv]
the following year for £6,500. He moved in to a rented flat off Toorak Road,
Toorak. After Connolly died and probate
published, the papers were quick to point out that Australia’s greatest punter
only left an estate of less than £6,000.[v] There were no horses, no properties, few
shares and very little cash. For a man who had terrorised bookies for much of
his life, to many who had followed his career, this seemed almost impossible to
believe. Yet even by 1935 it was hinted by race caller Eric Welsh in the
Sporting Globe that Connolly’s finances were not travelling so well.
“Illness and the economic depression
combined to reduce the size of E.A.C’s wagering and then came the steadily
increasing taxation still further to limit his operation.”[vi]
It was naturally assumed by most people
on reading about his probate, his punting had been so abysmal, most of his money
had returned to the bookies in truckloads. Or more likely, the devious punter
had somehow squirrelled his funds away to avoid death duties. While that may
have happened there were other less obvious reasons as to why his estate had atrophied
so dramatically. Many friends who knew him personally felt the truth lay in the
character of the man himself. Eric Connolly was an incredibly generous individual
and supported many within the racing community less fortunate than himself.
Even as his funds dwindled and health declined, as Bobby Lewis explained about
his close friend,
“Nothing
could ever break Eric's spirit. He always came up smiling. I never heard of him
turning a case down unless there was a hole in his pocket. He has given more
money away than any ten racing men I know.”[vii]
Besides Lou Robertson, Eric Connolly
remained a close friend of many within racing but unlike Robertson, enjoyed a
very wide circle of friends outside of the sport. His two daughters, Iris and
Freda continued to be socialites organising charity parties, functions, fund
raisers, war efforts, raffles and parades on a weekly basis. Connolly suffered
as many had by the downturn in the share market and most of his real estate
holdings had been transferred out of his name. After the death of his wife Ada,
knowing he too could drop dead any moment, was canny enough to begin shifting
assets away from himself so his daughters would avoid expensive death duties.
On his death bed, Connolly wanted the upcoming marriage of his daughter, Freda
to the incredibly capable Managing Director of Shell Australia, Eric Avery to
continue as planned. After Iris broke off her engagement with Robert Forsayth,
grandson of Emma Forsayth[viii],
plantation owner, she married John Russell Clarke for about five minutes; he
came from the immensely powerful Rupert Clarke family.
While Connolly became desperately
ill in the first week of October 1944, he recovered enough to give a faint
glimmer of hope he may yet survive.[ix]
In a twist on Ray Bradbury’s quote of what he would do if he was told he had
only six minutes to live, Bradbury replied, type faster.[x]
Connolly on the other hand would bet faster. Just before his death, Connolly
produced a flurry of activity throughout the bookmaking community. However all
bets had been laid with an iron clad guarantee and assurance, no matter what
happened, they would be honoured. Chronically ill, he laid most of his large
straight bets and some even larger doubles with this assurance they would be
honoured. As a general rule on the death of either punter or bookmaker, the bet
is cancelled. In all cases the money was accepted under the very mutual
understanding, especially in the all too likely occurrence of Eric Connolly
falling off the perch before the Melbourne Cup. As it transpired, it would be
much sooner as Connolly again collapsed and this time there would be no
comebacks.[xi]
After the 9th October 1944, the phone at 16 Ormond Street stopped
ringing at 6:45 in the evening forever.
The Sun noted in their obituary,
“A keen follower of horses from
Victorian trainer Lou Robertson’s stable, he won a lot of money over Lou
Robertson’s charges.”[xii]
Connolly died having just emptied
more money in to the bookies bag, mainly on backing Lou’s stable and especially
Lawrence. Eric Connolly also backed Counsel and was torn between either
horse for the Melbourne and Caulfield Cups. He managed to score good odds on
both in their various doubles. His most lucrative payout would have seen Counsel win the Caulfield Cup with Lawrence winning the Melbourne Cup.
However, when Counsel beat Lawrence by a stride to snatch the
Caulfield Cup, some of the bookies having given Connolly their word his bet
would be honoured, immediately tried to call the double off. As it turned out, with injury after injury to
Lou’s stable, so too did Connolly’s bets and doubles fall by the wayside.
However it did raise the point had Lawrence
in fact won the Melbourne Cup for bookie Dave Prince. Taking Connolly’s
£6,000 to £20 Counsel-Lawrence
double, after first wanting to invoke the “death clause” principle, relented
and instead claimed he would hand over the £6,000 to the Lord Mayor’s Hospital
Appeal on behalf of Connolly had Lawrence
won the Melbourne Cup. If Lawrence had
have missed, which was the case, then Price was happy to donate Connolly’s £20
investment to a charity.[xiii]
Many of the bookies were now openly
stating after Counsel won the
Caulfield Cup and facing the genuine prospect of a huge payout should Lawrence win, “a principle was at stake” to not honour the bet despite the
previous agreement. The principle being
that they did not like being fleeced by Eric Connolly when he was alive, they
liked it even less now he was threatening to take their money from beyond the
grave. Had Lawrence won, Connolly’s daughter’s Iris and Frida would have been
looking at that comment with one hand on the phone to their solicitor, ready to
retrieve their father’s £6,000. Before
one of Melbourne’s largest funeral were organised of which every racing person
would be likely to attend, the bookies agreed that Connolly’s bets would be
honoured.[xiv]
Trainer, fellow mega punter and billiards partner Darcy Eccles, who many knew
to be close to Connolly summed up his friend when asked by a reporter,
“E.A.C. had three brains rolled into
one when it came to racing. No one in the southern hemisphere had his knowledge
of the turf and its ramifications.” [xv]
Connolly’s funeral turned out to be
one of the largest in Melbourne with ten pallbearers including VATC chairman
Norman Robinson, Hall of Fame jockey Frank Dempsey, Carlton and United Brewing
head honcho John Fogarty, trainer and close friend Maurice McGrath, the
infamous John Wren, fellow gambler and owner of The Tramp Darcy Eccles, hotelier Alan Lechte (City Club Hotel, Collins
Street and Beaufort Hotel, Queens Street) and of course his silent partner in
crime Lou Robertson. A cortege of over
300 cars, crowds lining the street paying respect to an indomitable spirit and
one of Australian racing’s greatest characters. Not sure exactly if there is a
category in the Hall of Fame for Eric Connolly, but they possibly should be
flexible enough to create one for he was the epitome of racing. As a trainer,
manager and buyer of horses he was as good as any but as a punter, before his
first heart attack he was truly formidable. It was however his close
association with Lou Robertson which made bookies extremely nervous. In what
amounted to hundreds of plunges, it would only be in the latter years when many
of the bookies saw their funds returned to them.
Eric Connolly deserves more than a
mention with regards the Hall of Fame. It you ask what exactly is the purpose
of the Hall of Fame, the next question you would be pondering is why the hell
isn’t Eric Connolly there? Not only is he not there after the institution’s 16
years in existence, he hardly ever makes the short list. Yet of all the people
honoured, Eric Connolly probably epitomises racing more than any other
individual. Without doubt most inductees already in there would agree if you
could just poll them through an Ouija board. Racing and gambling are synonymous
and there have been very few punters who have been bolder or more brilliant
than Connolly in Australian racing. Adding to his skill set was his highly
underrated abilities as a trainer and owner of horses. Quite frankly it is
ludicrous to have a Hall of Fame without him there and the sooner the injustice
is rectified the better.
Maude Vandenberg
“Today was Phar Lap’s first
appearance since May last, when he won the King’s Cup in Adelaide. But the race
was responsible for another first up. That was the appearance of Mrs.
Vandenberg, who is estimated to have taken £6,500[xvi] from the ring over Amounis’ success
today.”
The
Truth 31 August 1930, page 5
Maude Vandenberg passed away in a
Darlinghurst private hospital on October 4th, 1939 at the age of 65,
a much loved mother to her children Ernie and Noni.[xvii]
For a brief period she was indeed Australia’s greatest punter. When most women
her age were scratching around just trying to put a meal on the table, Maude
Vandenberg defied both the times and convention of women staying at home. It is
important to find an interest in life and it would appear Maude Vandenberg’s found
hers betting humungous amounts of money and terrifying bookies. She bet in the
modern day equivalent of millions.
Vandenberg was married to a bookie,
her brother in law was a bookie and her son Ernie also kept a book. On top of
that, the owner of Amounis, Bill
Pearson was an ex-bookie. She was hardly short of good advice when it came to
backing a horse. What sets Maude Vandenberg apart is her fierce independence.
She may have been surrounded by men but she ran her betting her way. If you
could imagine Ma Barker at the race track, it may give you a hint of Maude
Vandenberg. Eric Connolly could not have found a better soul mate. Both
presented as benevolent, good company and sweet natured. It was only when you
saw them in action did you realise had things not worked out on the track,
either of them would make very good assassins. And they were both utterly
fearless. While Connolly went through life with his adage of “Money lost, nothing lost. Courage lost,
everything lost”, the exact same sentiment could be equally applied to
Maude Vandenberg and her approach to a betting ring.
After the huge 1930 double and more
directly the retirement of Amounis,
the spectre of Maude Vandenberg terrorising the Sydney betting rings became
less and less. However the wins from Amounis
reared its head again when the taxation department pinged her son Ernie for
unpaid taxes on the winnings. Naturally enough Ernie was understandably miffed
as the £16,550 he was supposed not to have paid tax on, was earned as a punter,
not as a bookie. Therefore, according to Vandenberg, the £4,000 tax they were
now demanding from him, should be waived. Reintegrating in his appeal, like
every other punter, the money was won on the horses and those bets were
speculative. It should be noted that many racing identities have found
themselves on the wrong side of the Taxation department which includes trainers
Jack Holt[xviii],
Lou Robertson[xix]
and Dick Bradfield[xx].
Unfortunately the Taxation Department could not differentiate between Ernie
Vandenberg’s bookmaking activities and being part of a family that bet mind boggling
amounts on their favourite horse.[xxi]
The Crown also suspected there may have been a few more horses than just Amounis involved.
From the general public’s
perspective, reading about this case in the middle of a Depression made for
some jaw dropping titbits. Probably made many even more depressed than what
they already were about your finances. The amounts being spoken of were just extraordinary.
The average person earned less than £2 per week in 1930 or $85,000 per week in
2018. Extrapolated out to today’s value, this case was about $14 million of
undeclared income. While Ernie Vandenberg’s winnings on Amounis may seem impressive, his haul from his fellow bookies pale
to a sliver compared with what his mother was to have been reputed to have won
on this horse. Just on the Amounis-Phar
Lap double, Maude Vandenberg was rumoured to have pocketed £20,000 (or $16
million today). Yet it is very likely
she pocketed well over five times that in her betting on Amounis. Then there were and Bill Pearson also profiting greatly
from an Amounis win. While Amounis
set a new earnings record, one has to assume, so too did Bill Pearson, Frank
McGraw, Maude and Ernie Vandenberg in their nonstop assault on the bookies.
[i] Death certificate courtesy John Macnaughton
[ii] Barrier Miner 31 August 1931, page 8
[iii] Death certificate courtesy John Macnaughton
[iv] Italian for “column”
[v] Courier Mail 21 April 1945, page 5
[vi] Sporting
Globe 31 August 1935, page 6
[vii] Barrier Miner 23 November 1933,
page 5
[viii] Better known as “Emma, Queen of the Pacific”
[ix] The Sydney Morning Herald 10
October 1944, page 4
[x] Science Fiction writer best
known for “The Martian Chronicles”
[xi] “Death of Racing’s Greatest
Backer” The Sydney Morning Herald 10 October 1944, page 4
[xii] The Sun, 10 October 1944, page 3
[xiii] Barrier Daily Truth Thursday 26
October 1944, page 4
[xiv] Sunday Times, 15 October 1944, page 11
[xv] Darcy Eccles - Sporting Globe,
11 October 1944, page 12
[xvi] About $5,000,000 in 2018
[xvii] Her children placed In Memoriam notices for the next 15 years
[xviii] Brisbane Courier 11 March 1929, page 5
[xix] Examiner 13 December 1921, page 5
[xx] The Register 26 October 1923, page 13
[xxi] Sydney Morning Herald 15 September 1933, page 7 – for the years 1927
(£3500), 1928 (£1000), 1929 (£7000) & 1930 (£5050)
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