Lewis Dayton Stilwell (1891-1963)
Printed here is the greater part of the talkgiven by Prof. Allen R. Foley '20 at theApril 8 memorial service for Lewis DaytonStilwell, A.M. '35, Professor of HistoryEmeritus, who was killed April 5 in an automobile collision in White River Junction,Vt. Professor Stilwell's obituary appears inthis month's In Memoriam section.
NONE of us I think has recovered from the shock of the sudden death of Lew Stilwell. The final loss of a friend or loved one is always something of a shock but in most circumstances we have some warning and hence some preparation. Lew, to those who knew him, seemed boyish and ageless, and we thought of him as an integral and ever-continuing part of the Hanover scene where he had played such an unique role for about 45 years. We saw him only a few days ago striding along Main Street - hatless and coatless with all the spirit and vigor that we have always known in him, with his smile and his warm greeting and that twinkle in his eyes which had defied the years.
A stranger meeting him would have found it hard to believe that, come July, he would have been 72 years of age. Oh, if you had looked closely you might have detected some signs of aging - some wrinkles and a little stoop - but for us he was the same Lew we had known for so long - sharp as a whip in repartee, ever anxious for an argument and sure in the course of an evening to take some unorthodox position — or likely more than one - and thus to provoke us to counter-argument and to thinking long thoughts about things which we more staid souls usually took for granted. There are very few really provocative teachers in the best Socratic tradition, but Lew Stilwell was certainly one. He was Dartmouth's gadfly, if you will, pricking the bubbles that floated from our sometimes pompous and platitudinous pronouncements, cutting the ground from under the shallowness of our logic or rationalization, and often, I am persuaded, bringing us closer to the truth. It might not always be his truth to which we came, for Lew was not one that wanted all men to agree with him. Life indeed would have been too dull a round for Lew in such a world. But if as a result of the hassle it turned out still to be our truth, forged and reshaped in the fire of his cutting flame, it was O.K. with him. And as a result both he and we were better for it.
Most of us will remember Lew first and foremost as the teacher, for this was his preeminent calling - a calling to which he gave the long years which were his to give. A class with Lew was never a dull affair and the students knew and appreciated this fact. He didn't move around the desk very much. He had often a peculiar way of taking a stance and then sometimes fixing his eyes on the ceiling and proceeding, without note or reference, with that fine voice of his, to let you have it in plain, honest-to-God, simple, Anglo-Saxon speech - salted at times with earthy allusions and humorous reference - yet moving, in the way facts can be moving when presented by such a master of the art of teaching. I had Lew only for a few lectures in the American history survey course, nearly 45 years ago, yet I can still recall the stimulating impression he made upon me. Hundreds of students over the years will bear witness to this impact and indeed so will many gathered here today who have seen the "Battle a Day" performances transferred to the very popular "Battle Nights." And as Lew himself was the first to admit he had a whale of a lot of fun in the practice of this high art of teaching....
Lew is also bound to be remembered as one who loved the out-of-doors and spent so many blissful hours on his island in the Connecticut, known to some of us as Stilwell's Landing. There with the sky and the river as boon companions - and often one or two choice spirits to share the joy - Lew lived life in the pattern of Henry David Thoreau, making his life rich indeed by making his wants few. As Thoreau had traveled much in Concord, Lew had traveled much in our lovely valley. For many years he was a great walker, often starting very late in the evening, for example, to walk to Lyme and back down the Vermont side of the river. I sometimes drove past him in the wee hours of the morning but I had learned long since not to try to pick him up because he wantedto walk. And in addition to wanting to walk, perhaps he wanted to rehearse the lecture which the next day he would give in class, unencumbered by any notes or reminders. Sometimes on his walk, to be sure, he carried notes in his pocket, and a flashlight, and an occasional flash in the darkness gave him the data which he thus fixed indelibly in his mind. And so he cut wood and walked and fished and swam and realized to his own deep inner satisfaction the simple and the good life.
AH his friends, and particularly those who were his brothers in Phi Kappa Psi, will remember Lew as a strong fraternity man - a fraternity man in a way which seems increasingly out of fashion in these days. It may seem a little out of character for Lew, who was in some ways both a solitary figure and a non-conformist, but on the other hand Lew was a very sentimental person and the ties with Phi Psi were for him an abiding link with happy far-off undergraduate days at Amherst and represented a bond which he had no wish to put aside. I think he felt that many men at least needed some such focal point in which their affection and their loyalties might thus unite. That he was a bachelor might have had something to do with this, but brotherhood to Lew was a real and compelling thing and he was not ashamed to admit it.
And yet after all it is Lew as the man and the friend that we will most remember him. Lew had a shy, unassuming and retiring side to him and a tendency to stand aloof from meetings and conventions and many types of social and academic events. Yet when he did break down and join such a gathering he usually had a wonderful time and made his real contribution. Lew had his troubles as we all do, and if you wanted to take your troubles to him you could not have asked for a more sympathetic ear. He himself was hurt by his attitudes before Pearl Harbor but rather than crying about it this man, who was something both of an isolationist and a pacifist, turned surprisingly to military history as a safe area in which to operate, and made himself an expert in this field. Many of his battle lectures have been taped and his voice, I understand, is still by radio on an educational network.
We can not soon put Lew from our thoughts. We will expect to see him on the street or in Eastman's or on the river. We will expect to hear that voice and that laugh come booming up the stairs. And it hurts to remember that we shall not see or hear him again. But perhaps all things do work together for good. Lew would have been, I think, a very unhappy bed-ridden patient and it is always painful to see so strong a figure grow weak in body and wandering in mind. Lew had a long and very rich and happy life and though retired since 1959, after over 40 years of teaching, he left us in fullness of vigor - both of mind and body. He who talked so much about battles has fought his own good battle of life - and won. So as we meet in this memorial service we say with sadness, yet with joy in remembrance of him, Aveatque vale, Lew - Hail and farewell.
Prof. Lewis D. Stilwell, A.M. '35
