Paddington' Pollaky, Private Detective
Page 11
7
Marriage Two
London in the 1860s was the grimy, dirty place of Victorian fame, rather than the beautiful city imagined by Dick Whittington. In 1860 work started on what would become London’s underground railway. The first section opened on 9 January 1863, and ran from Paddington Station (already the London terminal for the Great Western Railway,) to Farringdon. Construction caused absolute devastation of the houses along its path. The atmosphere created by the steam trains made the air underground even worse than the air above. Life for a young family was hard, and infant mortality was high. The Pollakys would outlive all but two of their children.
It is hard to imagine how Pollaky maintained a satisfactory home life when he was first married to Mary Ann, bearing in mind how busy he was spying for Sanford. Perhaps it was because he was so busy that married life worked out well for him.
Their first child was, unfortunately, stillborn on 27 July 1862. They named her Lily and she was buried at the Kensal Green Cemetery in the family plot. Their next child, another daughter, Pauline (or Lena for short), was born the following year, but died in 1871 aged only eight. The cause of death was given as scarlatina simplex (scarlet fever) from which she had been suffering for twenty-three days. Mary Ennis, the children’s governess was present at her death.
Altogether they had seven children, whose health must have caused great anxiety to their parents. Lily: stillborn in 1862, Pauline (Lena): 1863–71, Minna Mary Ann: 1864–99, Francis Hughes James: 1866–99, Rose Katherine: 1868–1934, Mabel Mary: 1869–1947, William Ernest: born early in 1872, died later that year aged 5 months. All but Lily and William Ernest were baptised (at St Saviours Church, Paddington). With a large family, the Pollaky’s employed a live-in nurse for the children, German-born Marie Burke, 28 and married. Mary Ennis left the Pollaky’s employment after Pauline’s death.
On the records of his children’s births, Pollaky is described variously as ‘Continental Agent’, ‘Foreign Agent’, or ‘Gentleman’. He was very busy during the 1860s, and his work must have taken him away from home on numerous occasions, both in England and abroad. One can imagine the tired private detective arriving home after a long trip away, back to his own house with his study and his things, the paintings on the wall and the comforts of life to be faced by three or four small children eager to see their papa. Childhood illnesses giving concern to both father and mother, the stress of hard work and lack of appreciation from police officialdom, combined with the fun and scorn made in the press of him and his cases, may have made him irritable. Judging from what he later wrote in his will, though, his marriage seems to have been happy as well as long lasting.
There are no details of their married life together aside from the records of the births and deaths of their children. One might wonder whether Mary Ann cooked food in the English fashion for her husband or whether he had shown her how to cook in the Hungarian style. In 1861, Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management was published. Might that have been a source for recipes, or had Mary Ann learned all that was necessary from her landlady mother? Eventually they were able to afford the services of a live-in cook. In 1871, the Pollakys had two servants living with them: Mary Burke, who doubled domestic duties with that of nurse, and Elizabeth Harbridge, aged 17, the housemaid. The census that year was taken on 2 April. Pauline had died a few weeks earlier on 27 February, which left four young children. The last to be born, William, would begin his short life a few months later. Mary Burke may have been present in the household for some time, and her life would have been a very busy one with four children aged between 2 and 7 to look after now that the oldest was no longer alive. William died suffering from diarrhoea, with a nurse, Louisa Fletcher, in attendance. The grieving parents had now lost three children.
The family lived at a number of addresses over the years. In 1862 they were living at 18 Maida Hill where their first five children were born; Pollaky’s inquiry office was at 14 George Street. In December 1864 he would have heard the news that Henry Banister, the husband of his sister-in-law Laura from his first marriage, had died of phthisis pulmonalis (tuberculosis) while at work. Banister had been Superintendent of the Chartered Gas Company, Horseferry Road and had been suffering from tuberculosis for five years. It is a sign of those times that one so ill as to be at death’s door was working at the gas works he supervised on the very day of his death.
Earlier in 1864 the Pollakys had moved into No. 9 Portsdown Road where Mabel and William Ernest were born and where Pauline died. Nearby, at No.10 Portsdown Road, lived artist John Tenniel, illustrator of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass and what Alice Found There. It seems a shame that he did not draw Pollaky while there was a chance. Tenniel was a member of the congregation of St Saviour’s Church, Paddington (donating £20 to the building fund), the same church in which the Pollaky children were baptised.
Meanwhile, Pollaky had been busy trying to improve his prospects by every possible means. Leaving no stone unturned in his efforts to gain influential friends, he became a Freemason, joining the Jerusalem Chapter (No.185). On 13 April 1869 he was appointed Second Assistant Sojourner, not a high rank by any means, at a Convocation which took place at Freemasons’ Tavern in Great Queen Street and which was followed by a banquet. The event was reported in the Era on 18 April. He was mixing, though, with tradesmen who were not perhaps as influential as he would have liked: one was Adolphe Oberdoerffer, a tobacconist based in Regent Street who had recently become bankrupt, another was Abraham David Loewenstark, founder of a firm of masonic jewellers based near Lincoln’s Inn who was wealthier but unlikely to further Pollaky’s own career, which was probably the reason he had accepted membership.
The 1861 census shows the family of William Cook living at 13 Paddington Green. By 1871, the occupants were the family of James Bedding, boot maker. From 1863, Pollaky began renting a part of the house for use as his office, and newspapers from 1863 show that this was his business address. He indicated in 1862 that, as a foreigner, he was not entitled to purchase a freehold, but later the legal position must have changed, and his fortunes rise, as in 1872 he was able to buy the freehold. August 1872 finally saw the family in complete occupation of their new home, though the electoral register for 1873 still lists Pollaky at 9 Portsdown Road:
The Times – Tuesday, 27 August 1872
POLLAKY’S PRIVATE INQUIRY OFFICE, 13 Paddington-green. – The rebuilding of these premises being now completed, Mr Pollaky’s RESIDENCE is REMOVED to that his sole address.
Records held in the City of Westminster Archives indicate that there were some problems with the drains at No. 13. If so, they were put right in 1871 by Thomas Thompson and Thomas Smith, builders and contractors of 13 Marylands Road, Harrow Road, Paddington the year before the Pollaky family moved there. However, though the builders certainly laid a new drain for the house, their official application for permission for the work indicates that they did considerably more than that, implying that the house was completely rebuilt sometime after October of that year. The 1884 sale advertisement appears in Chapter 11, in which one can read of Pollaky’s evident pride in the house he was selling, mentioning, as it does, its three water closets and that ‘the sanitary arrangements are of the most approved system’, all a result of the work undertaken by Thompson and Smith. That house is now demolished as is the house at 18 Maida Hill (now renamed Maida Avenue); 9 Portsdown Road (now Randolph Avenue) still exists though.
Paddington, once a leafy village, was well known for its railway terminal and its police station. It must have been a convenient base for Pollaky’s travels around London and the rest of England. In the 1850s, 13 Paddington Green had been the home of George W. Millichip, ‘Omnibus Proprietor’, and his family. Once Pollaky was installed there the house became famous (or notorious in the opinion of some) as the address of the best-known private investigator of his time.
The man himself found occasional outlets for his problem-solving skills in the dive
rtissements supplied by puzzles in newspapers and journals. The 20 February 1875 edition of Fun named him as one of the solvers of the double acrostic which had appeared there two weeks earlier. Judging from the lack of news about him that month, business was slow, otherwise perhaps he would not have indulged in entering this competition.
By 1881 the Pollakys had as servants, a nurse Emily Smith who was 28; and a cook, Elizabeth Gwynne (or Gwynn) who was 24. With four children now aged between 12 and 17, we might wonder at the need for a nurse, and 24 seems young for a household cook, if we judge by television dramas of today, but that is how they are described on the census.
Some of the neighbours in Paddington Green were themselves an unusual collection of characters. Perhaps the most interesting was Richard Metcalfe who kept a ‘hydropathic establishment’ and Turkish bath at Nos 10 and 11. Metcalfe’s establishment was called Priessnitz House, and he ran his business in Paddington Green from 1860 until after 1879. He was a force in establishing baths, wash houses and turkish baths for the working class, and wrote a book, Sanitas Sanitatum et Omnia Sanitas (1877) promoting this. Priessnitz House was named after Vincent Priessnitz, founder of hydropathy, now called hydrotherapy. Metcalfe wrote a biography of him in 1898. The comings and goings of clients at Metcalfe’s establishment, evidently not one for the working classes, would certainly have added interest to the sights that might have greeted the Pollaky family as they went through their daily routines, which must have included walks for the children on the Green itself, since that plot of land was so conveniently placed.
Metcalfe lived on his business premises with his wife Lucy and son Frederick. The customers and boarders were all listed as either gentlemen or ladies; the ladies often brought their maids with them. Residents at No 12 Paddington Green, between the Pollaky and Metcalfe establishments did not stay there for as long as those two. They included the family of Jonathan Knight, a ‘Whitesmith’ (a worker in tin), and later of John J.Thomas a ‘Wire Worker’.
8
Sir Richard Mayne
Between 1862 and 1863, Pollaky engaged in another highly dramatic and most frustrating one-sided correspondence, this time with the Metropolitan Police and in particular with Sir Richard Mayne, its Chief Commissioner. These letters involve his attempts firstly to be recognised by the police as one willing to assist them should they be in need of his skills, and secondly to gain official status as a British citizen. Although these matters are separate, there can be little doubt that Pollaky hoped that his proposed assistance to the police would help him in his attempt at gaining citizenship. The letters are held by the National Archives in Kew.
Sir Richard Mayne was almost 33-years-old when, in 1829, he became Joint Commissioner of the newly formed Metropolitan Police. The other commissioner, senior to Mayne was Lieutenant Colonel Charles Rowan. The two worked amicably together building the new force. Rowan retired in 1850 aged nearly 68, and Mayne became Chief Commissioner.
In 1829 Mayne wrote:
The primary object of an efficient police is the prevention of crime: the next that of detection and punishment of offenders if crime is committed. To these ends all the efforts of police must be directed. The protection of life and property, the preservation of public tranquillity, and the absence of crime, will alone prove whether those efforts have been successful and whether the objects for which the police were appointed have been attained.
These words, from the first Metropolitan Police Instruction Book, show him as an idealist, one who must have felt that the newly established Metropolitan Police would be able to put an end to crime for good. His desire to make good these words led him to adopt an authoritarian manner that, with his background as a barrister (he was called to the bar in 1822), made him respected as one not to be trifled with.
On 21 January 1862, Pollaky sent the ‘Prospectus’ of his new inquiry office to Sir Richard Mayne. Mayne, now 65, would remain Commissioner for another six years. Known from the first for his harsh manner, he was by now a demanding and difficult man, and Pollaky probably regretted that he ever started writing to him.
The Prospectus reads:
Private Continental Inquiry Office
This office, established with the view of protecting the interests of the British public in its social, legal, and commercial relations with foreigners, etc will furnish prompt and reliable information of those residing in England or abroad. Solicitors through this agency will be enabled to serve writs or subpoenas on the continent at less expense; insurance offices will find at any time a special officer prepared to investigate cases of incendiarism abroad. The Private Continental Inquiry Office however will not undertake any cases which properly come within the preserves of the regular police authorities.
Translations from the German; French; Italian; and Spanish will be undertaken.
Letters to be addressed
I.P.Pollaky
14 George Street Mansion House E.C.
His covering letter is as ingratiating as it could possibly be:
21 January 1862
To Sir
Richard Mayne K.C.B.
Commissioner of Police
Sir!
I take the liberty to lay before You enclosed prospectus, and beg to state that it will always be my most earnest wish & desire to assist the Police in forwarding the ends of Justice (if Foreigners are concerned) My long stay in England and Knowledge of the localities and languages will sometimes powerfully assist the Detective Police.
Hoping that You will gracefully pardon me for intruding on Your valuable time I beg to remain Sir
Your most obd Servant
Ig.P.Pollaky
formerly in Mr. Field’s office
How could Pollaky know that this communication would be met with as much disdain and metaphorical huffing and puffing as it did? Sir Richard Mayne on reading the contents of Pollaky’s enclosure passed it to Inspector Detective Frederick Williamson with a very sniffy note dated 22 January 1862:
Is this person following the same course as on former occasions other Reports were made to this office[?] RM
Williamson replied the same day, writing below Mayne’s query:
I beg to report that in December last the writer Ignatius Pollaky advertised stating that on 1st January his connexion with the office of Mr Field would cease, but he is now carrying on a similar kind of business at No.14 George Street, Mansion House.
As noted in Chapter 6, Pollaky had been preparing this new office since as early as September the previous year. It officially opened on 1 January 1862 though. Pollaky’s hopes of advantageously placing himself with the official body the of Metropolitan Police as a private investigator, were already running into trouble less than a month later.
On 13 February 1862, Pollaky wrote to Sir Richard Mayne requesting an interview: ‘i [sic] am desirous to aquaint [sic] You with certain circumstances which would be interesting to You.’ Mayne acceded to this request and Pollaky visited him at his home at 2 p.m. the following afternoon. After the interview, Mayne wrote on the back of the letter:
I saw Mr Pollaky again this morning & he said he thought it unfair to himself & of no public advantage to appear as an accuser, but that he wd. at any time communicate to me any matters coming to his knowledge that he thought wd. be of interest to me[.]
On 15 March 1862, Pollaky wrote again to Mayne. He had, either during the course of his interview with Mayne the previous day, or else in another with Horatio Waddington, made a statement that he had been sent to Europe by the City (of London) Police. Feeling that he had been doubted, Pollaky enclosed a copy of a letter that had been written nearly two years earlier. It is a letter of introduction from the Consul General of the Swiss Confederation in London, John Rapp. This document handwritten in German in old script was translated into English by Pollaky himself. The original was evidently intended to recommend Pollaky to Jonas Furrer, first Swiss Federal President and Chief of the Department of Justice and Police in Bern, as the first line shows:
London, 5 February 1859
To the Councillor of the Federation Mr. Furrer President of the Deptmt of Justice and Police in Bern
Upon the request of the Chief Police Officer in this City I have the honnour [sic] to introduce to You by this letter Mr Ignatius Pollaky and to recomend [sic] him to Your best reception. You will greatly oblige me if You will assist him in his researches & inquiries with Your good advice & council
Thanking You beforehand for Your Kind attention to him I remain esteemfull [sic] & obd.
The Agent & Consul General of the Swiss Confederation
The original German text is signed ‘John Rapp.’ Pollaky writes beneath his translation:
Please to return the litographed [sic] copy as it is the only in existence –
Both the copy and Pollaky’s translation were evidently not returned to him as he requested, as they are still held in the collection with the other letters in this series. Pollaky states that the City Police had requested to see a copy of this letter as a reference, and presumably hoped that if the reference was good enough for them, it would be good enough for Sir Richard Mayne.
In his covering letter, Pollaky mentions his work for the Americans, and states that he and Field were engaged in watching the shipping of guns. Thus providing confirmation of Field’s involvement in that affair. He concludes: