During renovation efforts at a social club in London, a collection of letters has come to light, highlighting the support the Mildmay Club offered to its members called to duty during World War One.

Approximately 500 individuals from Hackney’s Mildmay Club enlisted in the Great War, with around 90 not returning.

“About four years ago, we initiated major renovation work that uncovered several attic spaces filled with a wealth of archival materials and letters dating back to 1888,” shared Jon Riley, a member of the committee.

“The archive team discovered how significant the club was during the First World War, along with the history of some individuals in leadership roles at that time.”

At the time, the club’s secretary was surprisingly named Ralph Manley, and the vast majority of the letters were directed to him.

He sent the Mildmay members care packages containing cigarettes, pipes, tobacco, and food to the front lines, along with regular updates, which the newly conscripted soldiers appreciated immensely.

However, Manley remains an enigmatic figure.

When the Mildmay Club sought to trace his descendants and those of the letter-writers via the genealogical website Ancestry, they found no trace of Ralph Manley in the records.

It was as if he had vanished.

“The Mildmay Club reached out to us because they were eager to learn more about him,” said Grace Tabern from Ancestry. “They had these remarkable letters, and while he was deeply involved with the club, details about him were scant, apart from a newspaper article that offered a brief description.”

This article praised Mr. Manley and revealed he was the son of a sailor.

The details within the article were pivotal in locating him.

“It provided information on his birthplace and profession. That was all we could rely on, alongside a few electoral rolls that included his name,” Tabern continued.

“Despite combing through census data and records of births, marriages, and deaths, we couldn’t locate him,” she noted. “However, with the address from the electoral roll, we stumbled upon someone residing there, with the same job, birthplace, and age—but under a different name.”

His actual name was Henry Dury, indicating Ralph Manley was an alias he commonly used at the club. The reason for this choice remains unknown.

“As we delved deeper into Henry Dury’s life, we discovered his marriage record, where his wife was listed at the same address. Both Henry Dury and Ralph Manley passed away on the same date in 1936,” Tabern elaborated. “There’s no apparent explanation for why he would go by Ralph Manley here and Henry Dury elsewhere.”

Nevertheless, regardless of the name he chose, he evidently played a vital role for those serving in the trenches of northern Europe.

“Dear Mr. Manley, I sincerely appreciate the food parcels received today, which truly are a delight,” one letter from a Mr. James Cole expresses. “As luxuries are quite rare here, it’s welcoming to receive them—except that we get plenty of Christmas crackers from the opposing side.”

He further wrote: “While we get these all year, they don’t feel much like luxuries! Despite the challenges of living in a hut with gas and water issues, and a great view of the German lines—it’s all free, which keeps our spirits high!”

“I intend to write on the first shell we fire on Christmas morning: ‘Greetings from the Mildmay Club!'”

Chris Highmore, a retired teacher in her 70s, was one of those traced by Ancestry, with her grandfather having authored that letter.

Chris had known her grandfather as a rather cantankerous figure, often irritable with his children.

These letters have offered her insight into the hardships he faced during the war and helped explain his altered demeanor upon returning home.

“I know my grandfather James could tap dance and play the violin,” she recounted. “These were tales I heard from my mother. However, after experiencing the war, particularly being gassed, his character changed significantly.”

James, who also served in World War Two, was one of three brothers, two of whom were members of the Mildmay Club. Letters from James’ brother, Alfred, were also addressed to Mr. Manley.

“It was wonderful to read his letters,” Chris remarked, “as I knew very little about Uncle Alf. My mother rarely spoke of him, only mentioning that he won the Distinguished Conduct Medal, which he received from the mayor at Hackney Town Hall.”

For Kaye Larbi, the great-grandson of the elusive club secretary, who knew him by his real name, Henry Dury, the discovery of these letters was surprising, especially the revelation of his ancestor’s identity as Ralph Manley.

Growing up as the biracial son of a well-off Ghanaian barrister, Kaye’s upbringing starkly contrasted that of his East End great-grandfather, Henry Dury. However, he was pleased to learn more about his family’s past.

“By all accounts, he was quite a notable figure during his time,” Kaye said, cherishing the opportunity to visit the club where his great-grandfather had an important impact.

“He made a name for himself and embraced his position. It’s gratifying that we have a relative who contributed to the war efforts abroad, and I take pride in it.”

The Mildmay Club continues to thrive, boasting over 3,000 members who collectively own and manage it.

When inquired if he might consider becoming a member of the Mildmay Club like his grandfather, Kaye humorously replied, “You never know, if the drinks are affordable, I just might!”