Allen Wardwell

Allen Wardwell was born in New York, and he graduated from Yale in 1895 and from the Harvard Law School in 1898. He practiced law in the City all his life; his clients included the leading banks and bankers, and he himself became President of the Bar Association and President of the Legal Aid Society, and senior in a distinguished firm. He was so constantly being drafted for public service that it is miraculous that he managed to be so effective as a lawyer.

Besides the law, he was interested in music, and he really knew about it. He was a Trustee of the Juilliard Music Foundation and chairman of the Metropolitan Opera, and he labored unceasingly over the music at St. George’s Church, of which he was a Vestryman.

During the First World War he went to Russia as a Major in the Red Cross, and he got to know everybody from John Reed to Lenin. He picked up an incredible amount of gossip—some of it true and some not, but all of it exciting. And in 1941 he went back again as Chairman of the American Red Cross Mission to ascertain the needs of the Russians for supplies, and once more he did a first-class job.

Allen was much more than a distinguished lawyer and a public-spirited citizen. He was a kind and loyal friend. He stood by old classmates at Yale in fair times and foul. At the time of his death he was the oldest living member of Keys.

He had a somewhat severe countenance that discouraged sharpers from preying on him, but in truth he was an ever-present help in time of trouble; and to the difficulties of his friends he brought an uncanny wisdom and a warm understanding. And when he himself walked through the valley of the shadow for a time, the courage with which he overcame adversity and restored his own soul shone like a beacon on a high hill.

His law firm was Stetson, Jennings and Russell, which later was known as Davis, Polk, Wardwell, Gardiner and Reed. All these [apart from George H. Gardiner] were members of the Century—familiar, popular, and a source of pride to the Club. Through his offices progressed scores of lawyers following in his foot-steps: honest, competent, diligent. He was fun to work with. One Saturday noon he was leaving his room to go to the country when he was hailed by a breathless assistant: “Please wait, sir, and sign this opinion to the Bank.”

“I haven’t time,” said Allen. “See me Monday.”

“But,” insisted the junior, “the Bank must have this within the hour. It involves nearly $500,000. They have telephoned twice for it, and you are the only partner left in the office.”

Allen held out his hand for the letter. “My word,” he said, “it’s four pages! I’ll miss my train. Are you telling them to pay the money out or to hold it?”

“To hold it, sir.”

“Ah, yes. How fortunate! Give me the pen.”

George W. Martin
1954 Century Association Yearbook