Right. Another Wikipedia entry. Let's see what we can salvage from this dry husk of a biography. Don't expect me to be thrilled.
Henry Selby Hele-Shaw (1854–1941)
British engineer. The sort of title that conjures images of tweed and lukewarm tea, not the kind of sharp, decisive action that actually moves things forward. Still, this Henry Selby Hele-Shaw fellow managed to leave a mark, however reluctantly.
This photograph, supposedly from Page's Magazine in August of 1902, captures Hele-Shaw. It’s a moment frozen in time, a stark contrast to the relentless march of progress he, in his own way, contributed to.
Henry Selby Hele-Shaw, a name that rolls off the tongue like a poorly lubricated gear, was an English mechanical and automobile engineer. He’s credited with inventing the variable-pitch propeller. Now, that's something. This wasn't some abstract theory; this piece of engineering apparently played a role in Britain's rather desperate success during the Battle of Britain in 1940. It’s a shame such vital contributions often get buried under footnotes and citation needed tags, isn't it? As if the impact wasn't self-evident. He also dabbled in studying flows through thin cells, a rather esoteric pursuit that, for reasons beyond my immediate comprehension, have been named Hele-Shaw flows in his honor. And, for a touch of corporate practicality, he was a co-founder of Victaulic. A man of varied, if somewhat dusty, pursuits.
Life
Born on the 29th of July, 1854, in Billericay, he was the eldest son of Henry Shaw, a lawyer whose financial fortunes apparently took a rather dramatic nosedive into bankruptcy. His mother, Marion Selby Hele, was the daughter of Reverend Henry Selby Hele, who held the position of vicar at Grays Thurrock. A lineage tracing back to Reverend George Horne, no less. One wonders if the clerical background instilled a sense of duty, or perhaps just a penchant for long-winded sermons.
At the tender age of 17, Hele-Shaw was 'articled' – a term that sounds far more formal than the likely drudgery it entailed – to Messrs Rouch and Leaker at the Mardyke Engineering Works in Bristol. He endured an engineering apprenticeship until 1876. Apparently, he also snagged a Whitworth Scholar designation. A scholarship, I suppose, is a form of validation, though I suspect true genius doesn't require such external endorsements.
The year 1880 saw him ascend to the position of the first Professor of Engineering at University College, Bristol. He didn't linger, however, departing four years later to assume the Harrison Chair of Engineering at Liverpool University College, again, as the first to hold the position. It seems he had a knack for being the inaugural occupant of various academic chairs.
His work on the flow of liquid between parallel glass plates earned him a Fellow of the Royal Society election in 1899. A rather specific area of study, but I suppose someone had to document it. He also served as President of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers in 1922. A position of responsibility, no doubt, but the real impact, as I've already noted, was likely elsewhere.
In 1923, Hele-Shaw founded the Whitworth Society, serving as its first President. This society, astonishingly, still exists, fostering connections among Whitworth Scholars and ostensibly promoting engineering in the UK. Its stated aim is to unite those who benefited from the generosity of Sir Joseph Whitworth. A noble sentiment, perhaps, but one that feels a bit like gathering fallen leaves. He was, in 1933, awarded the Franklin Institute's Certificate of Merit. A nice little nod, I suppose, for a life spent tinkering with mechanics.
He met his end on January 30, 1941, in Ross-on-Wye. A quiet departure for a man whose work, in some obscure corners, continued to resonate.
Lectures
In 1902, Hele-Shaw was given the dubious honor of delivering the Royal Institution Christmas Lecture. The topic? "Locomotion: On the Earth, Through the Water, in the Air." A rather ambitious scope for a lecture, even for Christmas. I can only imagine the glazed-over eyes of the audience, particularly the younger ones, who were likely more interested in the festive fare than the intricacies of fluid dynamics.