New Zealand's Greatest Doctor:
Ulric Williams of Wanganui
A Surgeon who became a Naturopath
By Brenda Sampson
An interview with Newton Carnell, a golfing friend, younger than the doctor
He had no time for orthodox religion, even till the day of his death. His whole heart and soul was in Christianity. I feel that today, religion and Christianity have less and less affinity as time goes on. His analysis of the Bible, would have more in common with the average man than with orthodox religion. Religiously 'Doc' was quite hopeless, wasn't with it, didn't want it, and did not enjoy it; but in a Christian spirit he was way ahead of most people I have ever known. As a sinner he was also "tops'. He liked his physical things, like his golf. He was probably one of the best golfers I have ever seen; but spoilt it by being upset, unless he played a shot perfectly. The end-result (winning) didn't worry him, but the actual function to provide that result, worried him a lot. He taught me to play golf; about the psychology of the game, and something about the ethics of the game. He taught me that it doesn't matter a damn if you win or lose; and some of his own ardent desire for perfection rather than the result, may have lost me matches.
He was a fantastic athlete. When he went into Hikurangi Home, he gave away more cups, and bits and pieces than anybody ever did, from away back in his Collegiate days, with cricket and athletics. He had golf cups by the mile almost. I think he gave a cup to somebody for re-entry into competitions. I know at his height he was plus 3, which is quite remarkable. I think he probably won everything to be won in Wanganui. He was a very good cricketer and quite a good footballer.
I can remember Molly, his wife, but I just cannot describe her, and my wife thinks the same. She was a delightful person, not only charming but she had an integrity of her own. Not a soft person and not a hard one; a very common sense down-to-earth person. I think she had a lot to do with Doc's success in life, because he was too much of a mystic. He had all the drive and everything else but probably not the stability which was required, and Molly brought him back to earth and provided the stability. I personally think that she was a fantastic woman. They played golf together a lot. At the age of 80, he would meet her in Victoria Avenue, take her up in his arms and kiss her. He looked over his shoulder once and saw me, and said, "Do you mind if we have a cup of coffee?" I often wagged work just to meet him and go down and have this cup of coffee. Of the very few people I can count among my friends we had this simple affinity. That man had more to do with my life and my direction than any other I have ever known. Not in trying to make me a better man, more moral and more Christian. He tried to make me think and do the things he considered were right and good for me, and showed infinite patience in doing this. Since he has gone, I have sat back and thought about his infinite patience and it still astounds me. I came out of the army and I was totally different in many ways. I had it rough and had grown up in a more physical and rough way than he had. Although he had been a good athlete, he had never done the things that I had done in the army. I would tell him what happened in the war. He realised that things leave a scar. It is very hard to describe the effect that one man can have on another without bearing down. He would let you collapse only to pick you up again and then tell you about it, just to teach you. That is what he did to me. The kindness and patience that he showed! He knew my daughter was dying before I did and he kept it to himself.
He wrote many letters to her and he gave her comfort that even we could not give her. My son-in-law recognises this. What we did know, was the comfort and the kindness that he gave us. It was something you do appreciate. When he was getting old and could not do things for himself, it was my turn to talk to him and help him. He was not a man who grew old with patience. He could not forgive himself for not being able to do the things he thought he ought to be able to do. I was able, I hope, to provide some of the things that he had given me during the time I had known him. It became my turn to be patient and argue and try to talk him out of the naughty little ways that you get into when you get old. He was horribly impatient at times. It distressed him, like it distresses me now I am getting old, not to be able to do things that we ought to be capable of. I thought the day he sold his motorcar, he would die; I firmly believed that. That little car was not so much a possession as a sort of symbol. When he could not drive it and control it and no longer control himself, then he did not want to live. This was right, he just turned his face to the wall and did not want to live. That is my story as far as 'Doc' is concerned.
The things he did for people; and I know quite a few. I can only tell one story about this, and 'Doc' told it in a much more bawdy way than I do. They carried an elderly gentleman into his Home when he was down at Aramoho. He either had rheumatoid arthritis or some sort of rheumatics. Anyway he was completely incapacitated and was carried in on a stretcher. Doc's remark was, "When everybody else has finished with them and can do nothing more for them, they send them to me. I am not a bloody miracle worker." He told this old gentleman, "I might be able to get you to stand up again." The old boy said, "Alright" but it was many, many weeks with a sort of almost Christian Science attitude and complete faith in himself that he went about this. A glass of milk, juice of three oranges and 3 enemas a day; that is all he got, until he got to such a stage that 'Doc' got worried and he said, "How much more can you stand?" The old boy was as game as Ned Kelly and he said, ""I can stand what you can give." Finally they sat him on the end of the bed and they got him to stand up. I can't remember how long it took, but he walked out that gate, and the proof of this was not in what Dr Williams told me, but he showed me a letter that the old man wrote. He lived up Auckland way. I have forgotten his name and I vaguely remember the date and his age, "Dear Dr W. This is to tell you how grateful I am. I am now 75 and I still walk my five miles every day."
B.S. said "I might have met that old man. When I was in Dr Williams convalescent home I used to play golf with a man who had been there for nine months. He had fallen off a horse and broken his back. He had been in a plaster cast for a year. When they got the plaster off he was like a plaster cast of himself, just rigid. He was a farmer, aged 70. He went home 3 or 4 weeks later. There was a paddock at the back of the Home where we both used to go out and play golf."
Mr C. There was another friend of mine. I cannot remember whether it was a burst appendix or appendicitis, but the orthodox decision was that Rowley had to be operated on. I don't remember all the details but at this stage the ambulance had been sent for, and then he decided to ring Ulric and told him all about it. He said "I can fix that." When the ambulance got to the gate he cancelled it and sent it back. Dr Williams told me that this business of pulling out appendices is simply shocking. He just sat the patients up in bed and gave them boiled water and nothing else and when it was gone it was finished. I personally think he had a marvellous knowledge. He kept Molly alive far beyond her time. She was so very frail, almost ethereal. You would not believe it. You could have lifted her up with one hand. He forced her and willed her to stay alive and at this particular point she waited on him. He was drying the dishes, but she still cooked and made the meals and gained in health. She was a dominant personality in her own right. They were both dominant personalities and neither would ever give in so they would call a truce.
Those card evenings we used to have. I don't think he did it on purpose, but if he was losing, he would start an argument and Molly would not give in, definitely not.
I have never been so interested in two people. They had almost antipathy for each other in one way and a complete affinity if another way. Can you work that one out? I never could.
B. S. I only saw her one day for a brief moment, when I visited the surgery. She was in the rose garden and she just said, "Good morning" but I still see her quite clearly.
Mr C. She was a person you could never forget, very dignified. I can remember once a young friend of hers came up in a very humble car (a bomb) and offered her a lift. At the same time a lady friend said, "I will drive you home," but she said, "No thank you, I am going home with John." She always looked so beautiful and I did not think she would go with him, but sure enough she did. They rattled along the driveway and I can still see her now sitting up there looking almost royal. I used to lift her up and carry her up the steps and set her down and she would say, "Thank you darling", and she always asked me to have a little drink which I did. Frankly I think I loved her. I never in my life met someone so strong and yet so tender. Actually I got a bit intense about my job, and I was overworking, and drinking too much, and doing everything that was wrong, and he told afterwards that he could see a mental aberration. He said, "What's the use of you trying to play golf; you are not even thinking about it. Other times, you line it up and your mind goes blank and it's gone." I said, "Oh well, things are a bit awkward at the moment." Doc said, "Just let things sort themselves out. Don't worry about it. Stop being too intense and worried." But I wouldn't take any notice of this. Finally I collapsed and crawled around the floor one night in awful agony; and I said to my wife Thelma, "Ring him up for God's sake!"
He comes out and takes one look, and he made the most coarse remark I have ever heard. He said, "It's chop, chop, for you, my boy!" I said, "What, chop, chop?" He said, "You have got to go and get operated on." I said, "Good God! I thought you were a naturopath! I don't want to get chopped." He said, "This is what you are going to do, boy, unless you want to lie here for 6 to 8 months. If you would play ball then we could probably heal it. But I will go and arrange the op." I said, "Like hell you will. I've had you." He replied "You just lie there and I will fix it up."
In the end, I still smoked, I couldn't stop that. He stopped me for twelve months. Any way he went down to the hospital and they took me in.
Of course, he was on the wrong side of the medical barrier. If you are not an orthodox medic, you are not a medic at all. The medicine man of today does not like new tricks. He does not want anything that smacks of faith healing, chiropractic or manipulators of any sort. 'Doc' stepped out of this world and into his own, a long, long time before I met him.
