Dartmouth Club of Hartford
On Friday evening, November 3, ninety alumni and friends of Dartmouth gathered at the Hartford Golf Club to welcome Dean Laycock on his last official visit to Hartford. The Dean has been with us annually, with the exception of his sabbatical years, for more than twenty years, consequently it was with considerable regret that we thought this would be the end. However, before he left we were somewhat encouraged that unofficially perhaps he might appear again. We shall live in hopes.
Every effort was made to make it the most successful meeting we have ever had, and the results were certainly sufficient reward to all those who had a part in it. Howard W. Alcorn '23, president of the Club, presided, and his introduction and presentation of our gift to the Dean received so much favorable comment that at the request of several of the alumni I am taking the liberty of quoting it in its entirety:
"There is every temptation upon this typically Dartmouth occasion for one whose mental processes have been directed in legal channels to discourse at some length. There is much which a lawyer with a Dartmouth background can find to say about the present state of the nation.
"None of you need to be reminded of the bloodless revolution at present going on in the United States. I need not recall to you the legislation which presumes to dictate the price for which the farmer may sell his product, the method in which the manufacturer, business man, and banker shall conduct their affairs. You all are aware that a Congress of the United States has assumed to vest in one man—the President of the United States—the power to legislate that a given state of facts shall constitute a misdemeanor and to fix the penalty. You and I are told by one man that if we do a certain act we are criminals and that our punishment shall be thus and so.
"Those things you know, but how often do you think of them from the standpoint of Dartmouth tradition? Often in these days of revolutionary action do I find myself harking back to the words of Chief Justice Marshall in the Dartmouth College case, when he said: 'On the judges of this court, then, is imposed the high and solemn duty of protecting, from even legislative violation, those contracts which the constitution of our country has placed beyond legislative control; and, however irksome the task may be, this is a duty from which we dare not shrink.' A silent prayer comes to my lips that in the present crisis, the Supreme Court will be steeled to its proper course by the spirit of that great jurist.
"It was the New Hampshire legislature of 1816 that reached out to grasp Dartmouth College as government is grasping at private industry, banking, and business today. It was then, I like to think, that Dartmouth spirit asserted itself and with determination born of right won its battle for survival.
"When the opinion in that case was handed down in 1819, its full import was little appreciated, so concerned were citizens with financial worries and bank failures. Probably no more important consequences ever followed a judicial decision in this country. There can be no denial that it was one of the great single causes of the impetus given to the development of corporate business. It reassured investors in stocks and bonds and gave steadiness to the business world. Today many of those same corporations find themselves with their backs to the wall, making last feeble efforts to avoid the grasp of government. I watch with interest for the Dartmouth spirit.
"Thank God it still survives at the college of its birth. We have watched its growth with pride and have taken satisfaction in the individualism and independence of its development. We have noted the lengthening of its stride in recent years—years in which its course has been laid under the guidance of its masterful President Hopkins and its inspiring dean—Craven Laycock.
"Each year those two men have visited us, and we do not like to be reminded that that team is being dissolved and that we are this evening receiving from Craven Laycock his last official visit as Dean of the .College. We have awaited his messages with anticipation and we look forward to the one this evening as the longest and the best.
"Do you remember the question put by Lowell in his great commemoration ode? He said, 'Our slender life runs rippling by and glides into the silent hollow of the past. What is there that abides to make the next age better for the last?' There can be but one dean of Dartmouth College for me, and the spirit of Dartmouth as typified in him will be reflected in the College of tomorrow.
"I am no master of the language of flattery, and I do not propose to use it upon this occasion. But, as I have the honor to propose a tribute of friendship, I shall say to our guest that he owes it not so much to the high position which he holds in educational fields nor to the unselfish service he has rendered, but he owes it first and foremost to the love we bear him. You, sir, will find upon this tray the facsimile autograph of 115 Dartmouth men. Shakespeare made Juliet ask, 'What's in a name?' The answer in this instance is, 'affection.' We have wanted you to carry away with you a tangible evidence of it to remember us by.
"And so, men, in your name and under your commission, I give the Dean this tray as a token of our love for him."
The Dean's message was as usual most inspiring, for there is no one who can express the Dartmouth spirit and make it seem tangible in the manner that he can.
Following this there was some informal discussion, which strange to relate on the eve of the Yale game did not go too much into the subject of football. Perhaps we in Hartford, by now, take the Yale game philosophically, for with a Yale Alumni Association of over two thousand to contend with it is almost a necessity.
Our journey to the Bowl the next day still further proved this, as it has in the past. We have some consolation however, for even the Yale men admit they were outplayed and that the best team did not win. This is something from a Yale man (at least in Hartford). Our greatest satisfaction came, however, from the playing of two of our local boys—George Stangle and Jack Kenny, both of them playing a whale of a game through the entire sixty minutes without substitution.
And now we say—"Well, maybe next year."
Secretary.
