New Zealand's Greatest Doctor:
Ulric Williams of Wanganui
A Surgeon who became a Naturopath
By Brenda Sampson
Biographical Information Relating to Ulric Williams
A letter sent to me in 1973 by Sybil Woods
I was grateful to receive this long biographical letter from Ulric Williams' niece, Sybil Woods, daughter of his oldest brother, Wilfred. She wrote:
Ulric Williams was born at Wanganui on May 22 1890, the third son and fourth child of the Rev and Mrs Alfred Owen Williams. His parents were living at the Mission Station at Putiki, the Maori pa on the south bank of the river. His father who had previously been vice-principal of Te Rau Maori Theological College, Gisborne, had moved to Putiki in 1885 to become superintendent of the Maori Mission in the Wellington Diocese.
The three elder members of the family were born within three years of each other, 1882-1885, and were a closely knit group. Five years separated Ulric from the youngest of these three, and another four were to elapse before the birth of the youngest, Garth. Inevitably this made Ulric something of an odd man out, a 'loner' in the family circle. This was aggravated by the quite understandable reluctance of his older brothers and sister to have their games spoilt by having to include their little brother. My father, Wilfred, the eldest of the family used to tell me with shame how they would 'lose' Ulric on purpose, so that they could get on with their daring exploits. It was quite easy to give him the slip, because the garden included quite an extensive patch of native bush. Here Wilfred, Olive and Keith would build their secret hideouts and stalk one another through the undergrowth. One can only guess at the loneliness and even at times terror, of a toddler deserted in the narrow winding bush tracks.
Another dread he had to face and overcome was the journey to the outside toilet. This was some little way from the house down a tree shaded track. In the daytime it was not so bad but at night time the path was beset by 'bogies' of every description. All too often the older brother or sister would see him safely to his destination and then abandon him there to make his own way back to the house.
Small wonder that he grew up to be a rather solitary, reserved individual used to going-it-alone. This was offset to some extent by his prowess at games. He grew into a fine specimen of young manhood, tall (6'2"), handsome, and with an unusually well-knit frame. He played football and cricket for Wanganui Collegiate School and later for his college at Cambridge University. He continued to play cricket for Wanganui into his late thirties. But it is probably for his golfing play that he will be remembered by his contemporaries. At one time he held the amateur record for several major golf courses - Belmont, Seafield and Manawatu among them. I used to caddie for him in open championship matches and I shall never forget the deceptively easy, smooth-flowing swing which would send the ball skimming 280 yards down the fairways.
But in spite of his sporting contacts and his academic successes he remained conscious of an inner loneliness, from which he suffered at times acutely. One of these periods came when he left Cambridge University to further his medical studies at Edinburgh University. Looking for comfort and strength he attended church services regularly for almost a year in St Giles Cathedral. It seems incredible that throughout the whole of that time, and in spite of the fact that he sat in the same seat Sunday by Sunday, not one member of the congregation ever spoke to him.
Finally in desperation he phoned the dean and made an appointment to see him. It required some courage for him to break through his natural reserve to arrange this. So you can imagine his disillusionment when he confronted a man who all too obviously gave him only a quarter of his attention and several times interrupted a surface conversation to make telephone calls. He went out from that unsatisfactory interview feeling so let down that he seldom darkened the doors of a church during the next twenty or more years.
It was in an effort to escape from his intolerable loneliness that he next, while still a student, entered into a marriage with a young and attractive nurse who came from a very different social level. His parents, though apprehensive of the wisdom of his choice, came over to England for the wedding and subsequently took his young wife and baby son back to their New Zealand home, until the First World War was over.
Ulric then came back to Wanganui and built up a flourishing practice as an obstetrician and surgeon. During the depression years many of his poorer patients received the kindest and most skilled attention with never a thought on his part of sending in an account.
On free evenings in school holidays he, an expert bridge player, would forego his evening's pleasure at the club to play endless games of Rummy or Racing Demon with us. Then he would take us off to a nearby dairy where he would command the assistant to fill up a 2 lb. preserving jar with ice-cream liberally laced with strawberry or chocolate flavouring and no one enjoyed this form of supper more than he.
On Christmas Eves when Victoria Avenue used to be closed to traffic and seemingly the whole populace paraded up and down the gaily lit shopping area, he would take us three children down, buy us mouth organs or tooters or some other noisy means of giving vent to our joyous feelings, and frolic up and down the street with us, with at least two pauses during the evening to dive into the Rendezvous or Willow Pattern restaurants for the largest ice-cream sundaes I have ever seen.
I think it was in 1931 that Ulric's domestic life reached the stage where he felt it was scarcely worth living. He seriously contemplated suicide but hearing that Archdeacon Young was to address an open air meeting of unemployed men in Cook's Gardens, he decided, on some inner prompting, to go and hear what he had to say before doing anything desperate.
At the conclusion of a remarkable address, Jim Young said, "If there is any man here who feels absolutely at the end of his tether and does not know what to do to make his life tolerable, my advice to him is 'Go home, go into your room, shut the door, kneel down and simply put your hand into the hand of Jesus Christ and ask Him to direct your life from now on'."
Ulric went home and did this, and long afterwards he told me that he felt his hand taken and looked up and saw Jesus Christ beside him.
This was a turning point in his life . All the teaching of his childhood about the love of God and the compassion of Christ came flooding back into his life transformed by his inner experience. He read his New Testament avidly and then began to go out onto the street corners of Ridgway Street and Taupo Quay, where all the down and outs and methylated spirits addicts congregated, to tell of the new love and power which had come into his life. His seventeen year old son sensed the change in him and sometimes joined him in his witnessing. One night a man called Jack Howell came up to him and asked for his help in beginning a new life. Jack was then in his late forties. He had been in and out of borstals and gaol, since he was fifteen years old, for drunkenness and petty theft. At this stage of his life he was a confirmed methylated spirits addict.
Molly was beginning to respond to the change in Ulric and gave her rather grudging consent to the suggestion that Jack should be given hospitality under their roof while he sorted himself out. Three times Ulric found him employment, three times he lost it through drunkenness, but Ulric refused to give up. Eventually by his friendship and trust, and his ability to make the companionship of the living Christ real to Jack, he became a new person. Ulric lent him enough money to buy a truck and he set himself up in a private carrying and contracting business. I shall never forget the impression left on me at the age of eighteen by this radiantly happy man. I can see him now, fishing a dog-eared New Testament out of his pocket to quote some passage which had helped to convince him that it was never too late to make a fresh start if you knew where to turn to for help and strength.
From this direct personal evangelism, which dumbfounded his fellow doctors, and which led to his being invited to speak all over the North Island in churches, in Salvation Army citadels, in town halls and cinemas, Ulric began to turn his attention to the relationship between his new-found faith and the medicine he practised.
He found it increasingly difficult to reconcile his conviction in the beneficence and loving-kindness of the Creator revealed in Jesus Christ, with the sickness and disease he ministered to every day. He had long discussions with my father, a clergyman, over this and kindred questions. He was driven to the conclusion that as sickness could not conceivably be willed or 'sent' by a loving Creator, it must be the result of human folly and ignorance in the use of natural resources.
Over the course of the next several years he made a detailed study of the processing of natural foodstuffs, methods of fertilising the soil, diet and over eating, psychology and the effect of mental states on bodily health. He gradually evolved his basis for healthy living; - right eating, right thinking and right living. It sounds simple but it involved a thoroughgoing knowledge and appreciation of the closely interwoven network of relationships between body, mind and spirit.
Appalled at the number of patients who undergo operation after operation with no apparent improvement in health, he resolved to do no more surgery but to rely entirely on methods of fasting and diet. In the latter he stressed the value of unrefined foods - raw sugar, wholemeal flour, brown rice, etc., the plentiful use of fresh fruit and raw salads and the conservative cooking of all other food (e.g. by steaming), to preserve the maximum amount of vitamins and minerals. He believed that excessive use of chemical pesticides and fertilisers was endangering human health and in this was years ahead of the discoveries publicised by Rachel Carson in "Silent Spring". He believed that most of us eat far more than we need, and especially he queried the amount of animal protein eaten by people in sedentary occupations.
As more people became convinced of the good sense of his methods and experienced their validity in the marked improvement in their own health, he began to be in demand as a lecturer up and down the country. Nursing sisters opened private nursing homes for him in Wanganui, Hawkes Bay, Wellington, and other centres where they offered to treat patients by his methods. This involved a huge correspondence, as he had to keep in close touch with patients' progress and write lengthy instructions for their treatment. This frequently involved very personal letters to the patients themselves, many of whom were suffering from psychological disabilities.
It was a matter of great joy to them both that Molly gradually found herself to be wholly in sympathy with Ulric's new approach to life. She became his inseparable companion in all that he did, not only accompanying him on his lecture tours, but taking on a great deal of his secretarial work. She took a course in typing and spent long hours dealing with his correspondence. Many a lonely patient experienced the kindness of their hospitality, some staying with them for several months while they learned to grapple with their problems and rebuild their lives.
I don't think he ever courted publicity, but he inevitably became a controversial figure. His 'avant garde' theories brought him more than once into open conflict with his more orthodox medical colleagues. Here his early childhood had its effect. There was a sense in which he rather expected to be a 'loner' and almost enjoyed it. He did not go out of his way to alienate his colleagues but I believe there were many occasions when a more conciliatory approach would have won him many allies. Instead they felt rebuffed by his uncompromising stand. Till the end of his days, he remained suspicious of orthodoxy both in matters of Christian belief and worship and in medical practice. Maybe he had to stand alone to get his message across with its full challenge and its cutting edge. But in the process he met sharp opposition and knew the bitterness of isolation.
I remember what a joy it was to him when King's College, Auckland, decided to follow his dietary principles for a trial period of several years in their boarding school. The boys ate wholemeal bread and raw sugar and plenty of fresh fruit and their vegetables were steamed. The boys' health showed a marked improvement and there was a sharp decline over the years in the number of limb fractures. Whether the school maintained these sensible practices, I do not know. I rather fear that changes of domestic staff and the war years may have seen a reversion to a less healthy diet. But at the time Ulric was greatly encouraged.
