As a third-year student at the University of Manchester, Porter worked with Douglas Hartree, one of the most influential computer pioneers of his day. Porter was also a colleague of Marshall McLuhan.

His faculty assignments have taken him to the University of Toronto, the University of London, the University of Manchester, the University of Saskatchewan, and the Royal Military College of Science. A scientist yes, but with catholic interests: He has chaired a Royal Commission, a World’s Fair Advisory Committee and several advisory bodies on topics like environmental protection, nuclear power and automation and employment.

Professor emeritus at the University of Toronto, Porter was recently awarded an honorary degree from the University of Manchester. Arthur Porter is an Officer of the Order of Canada and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada. He and his wife Patricia are residents of Bermuda Village, North Carolina.

EXCERPT FROM ARTHUR PORTER'S SO MANY HILLS TO CLIMB

CHAPTER ONE

GATEWAY TO THE LAKE DISTRICT

Roughly 10,000 years ago, an Ice Age held most of Britain in its grip. But its impact is nowhere more evident than in the Lake District. The ice carved out the romantic fells and, dells and, during the massive thaw that followed, left behind the glorious landscape that was to enchant the Lakeland poets. I was born on the fringe of this wonderland at Lightburn Road, Ulverston on December 8, 1910. My birthplace, a market town of ancient lineage, being mentioned in the Domesday Book circa 1089 AD, is located in the Furness District of Cumbria, Northwest England.

The history of the town and District have been well documented. Of special interest is the fact that Druidism, a religious faith of Celtic origin -- evidence of which exists in the form of a Druid Circle about two miles from Ulverston -- flourished during the second century B.C. Christianity was widely practiced as early as the second century AD.

The District has been the site of several invasions. The Roman Legions, for example, who invaded Britain prior to 100 AD, established the most northerly outpost of their Empire in Cumbria. There is a great deal of evidence of their occupation. For example, Hadrian’s Wall protected the northern counties of England from the marauding Scots, while the network of Roman roads exists even today. The Vikings invaded and subdued the whole of northern England and left their imprint, not least their language and dialect, and many memorials including place names. For instance, Ulverston was orginally “Ulfer’s Ton.” It was the Vikings and Anglo Saxon stock that successfully defended the Furness District when the Norman invasion occurred during the 11th century. The 13th and 14th centuries were periods when border skirmishes were common. Scottish national heroes, William Wallace and Robert Bruce and their armies, terrorized the local population and repeatedly destroyed many Lakeland villages. Hostilities were resumed three centuries later when Mary, Queen of Scots, invaded Britain, but their sojourn was comparatively short. The final invasion during the early years of the 17th century, was by Oliver Cromwell’s parliamentary forces who defeated King Charles’ army at the critical battle of Marston Moor, which was fought on the moors of the Pennines, adjacent to the Lake District. But Cumbrians remained loyal to the king.

With the establishment of the union between England and Scotland in 1707, peace was restored, although the Jacobite Rebellions, especially Bonnie Prince Charles activities in 1745, gave rise to more border clashes. Peace has reigned since then except on the rugby football field during the annual matches between England and Scotland when there is intense rivalry.

The Furness District owes a great debt to the monks of Furness Abbey. They were very successful sheep farmers. They cleared the primeval forest and established agriculture in the region. Unfortunately, King Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I were responsible for the dissolution of the monasteries during their respective reigns and the monks were disbanded.

Known to countless generation of Ulverstonians as “Lile Oostan,” the town has a population of about 9,000. As a result of its comparative geographical separation from major urban centers, the townsfolk were reserved and proud of their lineage and speech. The local dialect, which I spoke fluently as a boy, is almost incomprehensible to “foreigners” dwelling in the rest of Britain. But the town’s reputation for hospitality dates back many years, as witness the remarks of Father West, a visitor to the town in 1754:

“The people of the Furness District, and Ulverston in particular, are civil and humane; to strangers hospitable. This universal civility and good manners is characteristic of Furness and distinguishes the District from those parts of the country (i.e. England) where an importunate curiosity degenerating to rudeness and barbarism is so flagrant and offensive amongst those of the lowest station.”

Perhaps the good Father’s impressions were influenced by the number of pubs in Ulverston, which was well above average in those days. He noted as well that, “the air of Furness is salubrious, so the inhabitants live to a good old age.” And I am grateful for this!

My pride in my birthplace is not only a result of the magnificent scenery and my heritage, but as well it is due to the fact that it was the birthplace of so many eminent people. To mention a few: Sir John Barrow, born in a tiny cottage at Dragley Beck within the town’s boundaries, rose to become secretary to the Admiralty during the times of Viscount Horatio Nelson. He was a noted explorer, especially of the Arctic Ocean and Alaska -- several towns and geographical locations are named after him i.e. Point Barrow and Barrow Bay. The sesquicentennial of the Barrow Lighthouse Memorial, located at the summit of Hoad Hill, beneath which the town nestles, was celebrated at the end of 2000 A.D. Ulverston also was the birthplace of the internationally-known actress Harriet Melon, afterward Duchess of St. Albans; of Stanley Laurel of Laurel and Hardy fame born in 1890; and of Lord Birkett, Lord Justice of Appeal, perhaps Britain’s most brilliant advocate, born above a draper’s shop. He eventually became a prominent figure in the Nuremberg Military Tribunal following the conclusion of WWII, and he also represented Mrs. Wallis Simpson when she filed for divorce prior to marrying King Edward VIII. As well it was the birthplace of Basil Weston and Frederick Jefferson, both of whom attended my old school and both of whom obtained Victoria Crosses, the highest military honor in Britain during WWII. It is worth noting as well that George Fox, founder of the Quakers, established the first Friends’ Meeting House in Swarthmoor close to Ulverston in 1688. He was a close friend of William Penn, founder of Pennsylvania, who also visited the town at the end of the 17th century.

Memories of my boyhood days in Ulverston remain fresh in my mind. There were no films, no radios, no televisions, no motor cars, no airplanes. But there were great compensations.

The exciting cricket and soccer matches -- the back street games and races. The coach tours drawn by four splendid horses provided transportation. The Town Crier in uniform making public announcements after ringing a large bell -- “Oh Yez, oh Yez!” And most vivid of all, the Ulverston Hospital Saturday Parades on Whit Saturday, culminating in the crowning of the Rose Queen at the Grammar School Sports Field. Accompanying the “royal carriage” and retinue were mounted police, marching brass bands, fire brigades and town dignitaries. In successive years, ages eight to 10, I was a page boy to a Lady in Waiting, a page boy to the Queen, and my pinnacle of fame was reached when I was the Queen’s falcon bearer in the procession. My costumes were 17th century -- velvet coat and breeches, lace trimmings, silk stockings, shoes with silver buckles and in my last appearance, a stuffed falcon clamped on my wrist. For several weeks prior to the big day we practiced in the Drill Hall. How many times I walked around and around the Hall to the strains of the Merry Widow Waltz, played on the piano by Mr. Rogers the local grocer? They were many. Pointed toes, erect posture, uniform steps. Indeed, at that very early age I learned the trade of royal courtier, but it was by no means wasted time, because the hospital parade raised a tidy sum for the local cottage hospital, and to this day my favorite dance is the waltz, especially to the strains of that old familiar tune.

Other attractions were the Martinmas and Michaelmas fairs staged in the Gill. Round-a-bouts, swings, coconut shies, a boxing booth, fortune teller, magic lantern shows and ice cream vendors. My parents always contrived to save a few shillings for those wonderful occasions. The circus came to town almost yearly. After Sunday School, my family invariably took walks on Hoad Hill and even as far as Kirby Moors. At age 11, I was bequeathed my mother’s bicycle. It opened up new and exciting vistas, especially Bardsea Beach on Morecambe Bay, which for several years was my favorite haunt. Family picnics, bathing in the warm waters of the Bay, cricket games on the sand and camping during the summer holidays readily come to mind. I recall as well lengthy bike rides to several of the lakes. Because of the many steep hills, these were strenuous and time consuming: an average of about eight miles an hour was good going.

Because Ulverston was the Furness Railway Junction for the branch line to Lakeside, at the southern end of Lake Windermere, it was in effect the “Gateway” to the Lakes.

The Lake District, one of England’s most beautiful regions, remains one of the few places in the country where it can truly be said that man has come to terms with nature rather than taming it. Wordsworth and Coleridge and Keats got their inspiration there. Indeed, Wordsworth, one of my favorite poets, in his autobiographical poem, “The Prelude,” recalls his many mystical experiences and his happiness as a child:

“Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven.”

The English landscape painter J.M.W. Turner, a frequent visitor, captures superbly the Lake District as I remember it. The sense of grandeur, not when the sun was shining, but when the swirling mist partially enveloped the country side and brought the fells and dells into stark relief. Awe inspiring!

Although the Lakeland poets and J.M.W. Turner probably take pride of place with the general public, it is worth noting that at least three distinguished writers dwelt there. Beatrix Potter, the beloved creator of Peter Rabbit; Hugh Walpole, author of the Herries Chronicles, which give unrivaled descriptions of the Lake District and which were read and reread by my father; and John Ruskin, the noted art critic and formerly Slade Professor of Poetry at Oxford. I am proud to mention John Dalton, born in Cockermouth, Cumbria (the birth place of Wordsworth and incidently of my material grandmother) who, with no formal education, propounded the atomic theory of matter and thereby laid the foundations for all modern physics and chemistry.

On countless occasions I’ve been struck by the dramatic changes in scenery within a few miles as I’ve hiked Lakeland trails. Rocky crags with water cascading from the heights, picturesque white-washed stone farmhouses, ancient granite churches and the ever-present flocks of Herdwick sheep. The latter are especially noteworthy with their guardians the hardy border collies and their masters who perform incredible feats on the treacherous fell slopes. Characteristic of the district as well are the century old dry stone walls and sheep shelters, miracles of muscle and craftsmanship, which enrich the slopes with bewildering patterns. These are monuments to the indefatigable Cumbrian men and women, descendants of the Vikings, who have survived blizzards and grievous winds to eke out frugal livings in this lonely and lovely part of England.

It is gratifying, largely due to the efforts of the likes of Beatrice Potter and especially of Lord Birkett, that large tracts of the Lake District are now protected by Acts of Parliament. Indeed, in recognition of his dedication to his native lake country, a “Fell” has been designated “Birkett Fell.” My only personal recollection of him is on the occasion in October 1929 when as Sir Norman Birkett he presented the prizes at my old school. At the end of the proceedings as Head Prefect I rose and called “School! Three cheers for Sir Norman.” Forty-two years subsequently, I recalled this event when I gave the prizes and addressed the school.

Price: $17.95

Top