John B. Cauldwell

It was only a day ago that the Century had to say farewell to one of its best-remembered figures. John B. Cauldwell had nearly completed a full half-century on our rolls. During that period, his personality was surrounded with picturesque recollections. There was a time when Cauldwell seemed to be an all but recurrent occupant of the post of secretary for the Club’s admissions committee. He was the watchdog who warned off injudicious candidacies for membership; yet he was never unreasonable, and was on the whole more likely to oppose authors or artists or amateurs whom he deemed unsuited for our membership than to object to other nominees because their candidacy did not meticulously conform to Article I. of the constitution. Himself only an “amateur,” his club affiliations were primarily with the artist group; yet he knew every one and every one knew him; he was one of those Centurions who seemed to belong exclusively to the Century. If he was a resolute upholder of the Club’s traditions, he believed those traditions to be embodied quite as intimately in a Twelfth Night revel as in a Sunday concert or an informal lecture or a moving picture at the Club-house. With some of us, perhaps, recollection will chiefly picture Cauldwell as he appeared at Twelfth Night, 1917, presenting with convincing and startling accuracy the portly figure, massive face, bristling moustache and horizon-blue uniform of Marshal Joffre.

Alexander Dana Noyes
1932 Century Association Yearbook