A "Chaney course" was considered a rite of passage for many students, and, by the time of his retirement, 80% of all living alumni had passed through the college during his tenure.
For more than four decades, Chaney hosted a "salon" three or four days a week at his apartment whereby students would gather for conversation and classical music.
[8][9] The brothers descended from what one colleague described as "southerners who had consistently backed the wrong horse in the great conflicts of American history";[10][11] during one conversation, when William Chaney asked his grandmother which president she was speaking of, she replied "Bill, you surely know that I'm talking about Jefferson Davis.
[2] He was admitted into the honor society Phi Beta Kappa as a senior,[18][note 2] and completed his Bachelor of Arts in 1943, majoring in medieval history.
[39] In 1954, Chaney started teaching the course "a history of western civilization,"[40] and organized a four-day medieval festival at the college, which included two lectures by him.
[56] He took another sabbatical leave of absence from 1966 to 1967,[57][58][59][note 6] with a grant from the American Council of Learned Societies, to work at Oxford;[46][61] much of his time was spent at the Bodleian Library, where he conducted research in support of a forthcoming book, provisionally entitled "Medieval Kingship".
[2][73][note 9] Chaney published many other works, including the widely cited 1962 article Grendel and the Gifstol: a Legal View of Monsters.
[2] Commenting that upon arriving at Lawrence in 1952 "I thought I would stay two or three years to see what a liberal arts college was like", Chaney said he "fell in love with the place.
"[1] Starting in the late 1950s and lasting for more than 40 years, Chaney hosted a "salon" at his apartment, just off campus, three or four days a week; students would gather for conversation, classical music, and—depending on age—cream sherry or Dr Pepper.
[2][84][1][note 10] He guided many students to graduate school, whether in history or other subjects, and stayed in touch with them—if largely by letter, as Chaney, who self-deprecatingly referred to himself as a "wave of the past", was by 1996 one of only two Lawrence professors who still lacked a computer in his office.
[2][1][87] Chaney would also teach courses geared towards adults, including summer seminars—such as on "The Vikings",[88] "Viking Sagas", or "King Arthur's Britain",[89][90][91][92][93] that were open to anyone aged 18 or older[94]—as well as similar courses during a summer program known as Elderhostel,[95][96][97] and several seminars, such as "The Arts as a Mirror of Society" and "King Arthur's Britain", taught during the school year.
"[112] Chaney continued to teach two courses a year, however, to maintain his Main Hall office, and to take annual research trips to England, Malta, and Greece.
"[82] In 2002 he sat for a recorded interview with two students from the class of 1957, with excerpts published in Lawrence's magazine, and the tapes and transcriptions placed in the university's archives.
[46][118][119] In 1973, he was awarded the Edward and Rosa Uhrig Award for Excellent Teaching, given to a Lawrence faculty member "to give tangible recognition of outstanding performance in the actual teaching process, and for leadership in the quest to insure that students reach their full development as individual human beings and as future leaders of our society".
[122] On his 88th birthday, the university established the "William A. Chaney Fund for Excellence in History", with grants to students pursuing significant research.
[133] Though not politically active, Chaney made an exception during the Vietnam War era to march in the streets, for what he termed "the only time in my life".
[113] Chaney incorporated classical music into the salon he hosted; loving the obscure and to teach students to think outside the box, he enjoyed playing works by composers such as Johann Sebastian Bach's lesser-known son, Johann Christian Bach, and what Chaney termed "the three great Ks"—Koželuch, Kuhlau, and Krumpholz—a riff on "the three great Bs".