biographies

Hayes, William Ivon (1893 - )

Born
29 July 1893
Hamilton, Victoria, Australia
Occupation
Gynaecologist, Medical Practitioner and Obstetrician

Details

Transcription of item believed to have been written by Dr Colin Macdonald. Published in "The Book of Remembrance", The Royal Women's Hospital, Melbourne.


WILLIAM IVON HAYES
(1925 – 1953)


William Ivon Hayes was born to James Bennett and Isabelle Hayes, both from County Cork, Ireland, on July 29, 1893, at Hamilton, Victoria. Seven years after graduation in Edinburgh, his father had commenced practice in 1887 at Smythesdale, a little gold-mining town south of Ballarat, but in 1890 he moved to Hamilton where his interests were directed towards midwifery, and by the time he retired, in 1925, he was recognized as the leading obstetrician in the Western District.

From 1899 Ivon Hayes attended the local State school and then for one year the Hamilton Gentlemen’s College. On April 20, 1908, he was brought to Melbourne by his mother for admission to Wesley College, and rather than wait at Ararat for the recommended fast train, they took the slow one and consequently escaped involvement in the dreadful railway disaster at Sunshine. His new headmaster, the portly and redoubtable L. A. Adamson, was then in his heyday and had a profound influence on all whom he ruled. It was a happy time, but it would have been intolerable to the modern youth. The majority remained at school until the age of 19 or 20, but all were treated as boys; no boarder was allowed to leave the grounds without permission from a master, the regulation pocket-money was one shilling per week, and the most heinous crime was to be caught speaking to a member of the opposite sex. During those long dreary weekends the boarders had to create their own entertainment and Hayes, who had no dexterity in ball games, turned to rowing and rifle shooting. He attained a seat in the school crew, rowing bow in the winning boat at the Head of the River races in 1911 and 1912, and he became captain of the college shooting team. He had intended to become an engineer, but turning to medicine he discovered he needed another language. He was advised to do Greek, which he passed after one year’s study; years later he learnt that it was his calligraphy and not his knowledge that had impressed the examiner.

In 1913 he entered Queen’s College and rowed in the college crew, and in 1914 he also rowed as bow in the university boat, which was successful in the intervarsity race on the Port River at Adelaide and later in the Henley Grand Challenge Race. Then, owing to the First World War, all official university contests ceased. The war initially brought excitement, but later its problems and worries. Those who did not enlist felt a little ashamed and self-conscious, but were reassured when medical students who had rushed off were sent back when it was seen that the war would not be “all over in six months”. The Gallipoli casualty lists, though doled out over many weeks to avoid panic, taught Australia that war was no longer a wonderful and thrilling adventure, and sobriety followed. Now the aim of all medical students was to pass without delay and go and help.

Looking back on these years, Hayes himself much later wrote:

“The war of 1914 brought an end to an era, an era when life was gracious. The hotels closed at 11.30p.m., the Bijou Theatre and bars throve; opposite, the Royal Theatre had lately put on ‘The Chocolate Soldier’. Further up Bourke Street was the Waxworks and Ned Kelly’s armour, while the eastern market was busy, especially on the late-closing Friday night. The ‘Savoy’ in Little Collins Street was the premier café but Bohemians preferred ‘Fasoli’s’ in King Street. Triaca and Massoni had started the Café Denat in Exhibition Street – they later separated, one to the Latin Café, the other to found the Florentino. ‘Doing the Block’ on Saturday mornings slowly died out and motor cars were a luxury for the well-to-do. Early in 1908 Jack London on his cruise round the world in the SNARK had arrived at St. Kilda; later that year the ‘Great White Fleet’ of U.S.A. paid us a visit and caused a rise in the birth rate the following year and on Boxing Day, 1908, Jack Johnson had eventually caught up with Tommy Burns at Rushcutters Bay, Sydney. In 1909, Bleriot had made the first cross-Channel flight. In 1908, the staff of the Melbourne Hospital had advised rebuilding the hospital on the same site because anywhere else was too far from Collins Street. Yes, an era, with Premier Irvine smashing the railway strikes of 1903, Chung Ling Soo and Houdini and Annette Kellerman at the Tivoli, Grace Palotta, Blanche Brown, Ralph Lynn at the Royal and His Majesty’s, the English Cricket Teams and the celebrated Wallace Divorce Case.”

Because of the war an abbreviated medical course had been adopted by the University of Melbourne, and so in September, 1917, Hayes graduated as Bachelor of Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery and at once enlisted.

His military career was brief, but not without incident. At Heytesbury, on the Salisbury Plains, he was regimental medical officer to more than 3,000 artillerymen, and influenza was raging. He was told to inoculate them with serum, but he decided to test it properly and only every second man was injected. All results were tabulated, the number of influenza patients, those with pneumonia, those who died, etc., and a careful report was forwarded which indicated that the serum had had no beneficial effect. Within a few hours a red-faced major screamed to a halt outside the regimental aid post, entered, exploded, and threatened to return Hayes to Australia for disobeying orders. It may have been coincidence, but soon after he was sent to France to No. 1 Australian General Hospital, at Rouen, where Earle Page was on the medical staff. At every meal politics was his constant theme, how the country and farming population should be represented in Parliament, and how a small third part could hold the balance of power. Most of his hearers were completely bored, and did not realize they were present at the quickening in the womb that preceded the later birth of the Country Party. After a short stay in Rouen, Hayes was passed on to the 3rd Field Ambulance, and during the advance to the Hindenburg Line, when casualties were being cleared from the regimental aid posts, it was reported that a shell crater had made the road impassible. Hayes was told to inspect the scene and overcome the difficulty, so he conferred with a sergeant, obtained a cart and horse, and with a party of men filled the hold with bricks taken from a nearby ruined farmhouse. Soon the ambulances were again at work; but when he returned, he found his commanding officer waiting, eyes bulging, face plethoric, apparently on the verge of apoplexy. Hayes was again threatened with disgrace; he had committed an unforgivable crime, that of exposing a horse to possible injury or death by enemy action. He was informed that the loss of men was to be expected, but the death of a horse was a serious matter; a thorough and searching inquiry must be undertaken and a complete report forwarded to corps headquarters. This further confirmed his belief in his incompetence as a soldier. His Armistice night was icy cold and spent in a roofless ruin; although rumours had been circulating for some time, the ambulance, which was on the move, was not informed that war was over until the following day.

On his return to England non-military employment was in full swing. Shipping was scarce and it was considered dangerous to keep so many idle soldiers in military camps while awaiting repatriation. Non-military employment permitted anyone who wished it to obtain a civilian job, learn a trade, do post-graduate work, or merely tour around, to be granted leave with pay until a ship was available. Hayes had seen parts of England and Scotland and would have been ashamed to face his parents without visiting Ireland; he therefore arranged to do three month’s postgraduate work at the Rotunda Hospital, Dublin. The great Henry Jellett was then master, and Hayes enjoyed the lectures and seeing the work in the hospital, and there was enough spare time to tour the city and its environs. Some of the postgraduates attended the Anatomy School at Trinity College, Dublin, to dissect the female pelvis, and Hayes followed, but when he told Professor A.F. Dixon that his interest was not confined to the female pelvis, he was offered the position of Chief Demonstrator in Anatomy at Trinity College, Dublin. After consideration and a visit to London to be demobilized, he began these duties and held this post (1919-1920) while boarding at Kingstown.

Harry Brookes Allen, Professor of Pathology and Dean of the Faculty of Medicine at Melbourne, had visited Dublin before the war and arranged for five Melbourne graduates to study successively for six months at Trinity College, Dublin, the latter being occupied with anatomy, embryology, pathology and bacteriology; after all this, if a graduate passed an examination, a diploma – a degree could be given to a Trinity College, Dublin, graduate – of obstetrics and gynaecology would be conferred. However at the last moment gynaecology was given precedence to avoid the initials D.O.G.. Roy Chambers and John Green had been the first two scholars and Hayes, being on the spot and warmly recommended by Professor Dixon, was appointed as the third. His two predecessors had held junior positions on the Rotunda staff of five, and Hayes in his turn was an External Maternity Assistant. (The remaining two Rotunda scholars were Hubert Jacobs and G. E. Mackay, who died before he could return home, but they were not appointed to the Rotunda staff.)


Of Dublin at this time Hayes later wrote:

“My duties consisted of the usual RMO work in the hospital and in addition being the consultant and operator to the external department – over 3,000 cases a year attended by students. No patient whatever, except those suffering from eclampsia in which the Master, Gibbon Fitzgibbon, was interested, was admitted to hospital, so the External Maternity Assistant gained an extensive experience – forceps, craniotomy, version, decapitation, etc. etc. Throughout my stay in Dublin there was “The Trouble”. The police were augmented with the disreputable “Black and Tans”, the dregs of the army who volunteered for one pound per day to keep order in Ireland. The shortage of dark blue police uniforms resulted in the recruits wearing part khaki and part dark blue pieces of uniform, hence the name. There was curfew most of the time, the Black and Tans patrolled the streets in armoured cars and on foot. On calls at night one was challenged and interrogated by these armed ruffians as one walked down the centre of the street, laden with two heavy obstetric bags on the way to help a student in difficulties. When they made raids in certain areas a shower of abortions followed. Michael Collins, the “General” commanding the IRA (Irish Republican Army), was for some time hiding on the roof at the Rotunda and being fed by the nursing sisters; he met his colleagues in one of the Assistant Master’s rooms in the hospital. After these six months at the Rotunda, there was a short break of three months as RMO Canterbury Hospital, Kent, and then back to Trinity College, Dublin to do anatomy, embryology and pathology. After completing the course and receiving the D.G.O., at the end of 1921, I returned to Melbourne.”

Through the efforts of a friendly politician Hayes was the first Australian soldier demobilized in Britain to receive an assisted passage home. He began general practice at Heidelberg, and moved to Ivanhoe five years later. He was interested in and quite content to do general work, but Roy Chambers asked him to help in the gynaecological clinic at the Melbourne Hospital, and a similar invitation came from Arthur Wilson at the Women’s Hospital. Soon he was appointed clinical assistant at both institutions, holding the former – with John Green – for 12 years. At the Women’s Hospital he was appointed “locum tenens” on two occasions when members of the honorary staff were abroad (Cuscaden and White) and in 1925 he was appointed honorary obstetric surgeon (replacing Cairns Lloyd). At this time new appointments were made to the obstetric staff, one then graduating to the junior gynaecological (outpatients) staff and eventually to the senior gynaecological (inpatients) staff. Soon after 1926 efforts by Authur Wilson altered this, so that the most junior appointments were made to the outpatient staff who moved to the obstetric staff, while the senior obstetrician in turn became the junior inpatient surgeon. This raised the age, maturity, experience, status, and relative permanence of the obstetric staff above anything it had previously enjoyed (Edward White had spent only six weeks as an obstetrician), and over a long period Wilson, Green, Hayes and Saltau brought recognition and renown to Melbourne obstetrics. At the beginning Arthur Wilson was Lecturer in Obstetrics at Melbourne University, and under his guidance the teaching and practice of obstetrics in the hospital were standardized and the staff was welded into a friendly team by regular meetings and discussions. This era lasted nearly twenty years. In 1945 Professor Marshall Allan fell sick and asked Hayes to do his work; after a year he resumed his duties, but soon afterwards (1946) he died. Hayes was then appointed on a three-monthly basis as Acting Professor of Obstetrics, a post he held till 1948, when he relinquished it to J.W. Johnstone. In 1945 Hays suggested that the honorary staff be rearranged, so that the junior staff (half the staff) perform both obstetrical and gynaecological duties, and when a vacancy occurred on either of the two senior staffs, the position would be filled by that junior who was most senior and preferred that particular work. After argument that lasted for years a change was made, in 1949, which split the whole staff into obstetrical and gynaecological departments. Hayes never ceased to regret that he was indirectly the cause of what he considered a catastrophe; the indivisibility of the two sister specialities had been shattered. This would greatly matter within the hospital, but it was of prime importance in private practice, where the public assumed an obstetrician to be a capable gynaecologist, and vice versa. At this rearrangement Hayes was appointed to the obstetrical department, where he remained until his retirement, in 1953.

Hayes gave up general practice in 1940, and all medical practice in 1959, Alwyn Long taking over his patients in Collins Street. Beginning in 1949, he had made six round-the-world trips, the early ones for medical and educational reasons, the later for pleasure. He was deeply impressed by the friendship, help and hospitality of many American surgeons who previously had been only names internationally known and respected. He travelled through all the continents, but preferred the by-ways to the well-beaten tourist tracks.

He had strong convictions about many things and was sufficiently introspective to recognize their origins. His father who never openly gave him advice and only once wrote him a letter – to deter him from “the dog’s life of an obstetrician” – helped to shape his character. As a young child he remembered being taken by his father on his morning round in a buggy, when they passed a man sweeping the street gutter. After his father and the man had exchanged cheery good-mornings, Hayes asked his father why he spoke to such a man. The reply was “I was fortunate that I was able to become a doctor. If that man sweeps that gutter better than I do my doctoring, then he is a better man and worthy of more respect”. That remark was never forgotten and, in consequence, Hayes never considered he was better than anyone who conscientiously did his best, and he quickly repelled any suggestion from his patients that he had any special gift. “I was trained to do what I did”, he would say, “just as a plumber or electrician was”. On another occasion he was allowed to affix the stamps on his father’s accounts, but was made to remove those that were not set squarely in the corner. “What difference does it make?” he demanded. “My patients will think I put on those stamps and will judge that I am careless, not only in this but in my work. A man’s character influences all his actions”, he replied. Hayes’ experience in the slums of Dublin and nearly twenty years of general practice were the most valuable part of his medical education, since it taught him that patients were people and not just medical problems; in fact, helping patients he found more satisfying that performing what later became almost routine procedures. Another potent influence was the saying “Enjoy yourself, it is later than you think”, which caused his at the age of 66 to give up medical practice.

Of Huguenot descent through his mother’s family, Hayes had three sisters. His university education was under the guidance of such figures as Lyall (natural philosophy), Masson (chemistry), Berry (anatomy), Osborne (physiology), H.B. Allen (pathology) and Felix Meyer (obstetrics). Immediately on graduation he served as medical officer at the Caulfield Military Hospital until embarkation on February 18, 1918. In the 3rd Field Ambulance his commanding officer was David Duncan Cade, later to achieve distinction at Mont Park Mental Hospital.

Hayes became a Fellow of the Royal Australasian College of Surgeons in 1932, a Member of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists in 1935 and was elected Fellow in 1946.

He married twice: in 1925, Gertrude Lythgo who died in 1936; in 1950, Dorothy Harrison. He is survived by his widow and by Patricia, his daughter by the first marriage.

His last years remained characterized by energy, both mental and physical. Earlier this year he produced some recent writings – brief rather autobiographical vignettes – to add to our collection, His death from pulmonary carcinoma occurred on July 8, 1973, just a few days before his eightieth birthday.

[This account, largely compiled from autobiographical writings of Dr. Hayes himself, appeared in the Medical Journal of Australia, 24th November, 1973.]

Archival/Heritage Resources

Royal Women's Hospital Archives

  • Book of Remembrance, 1956 - 1975; Royal Women's Hospital Archives [ Details... ].

Prepared by: Robyn Waymouth

Created: 21 September 2006, Last modified: 26 November 2006