The first book we published at Lost Art Press was “The Art of Joinery,” which was a reprint of the earliest English-language text on woodworking – plus some modern commentary from me. The book did well enough to buy us a few cases of good beer, so John and I decided to publish a second book. And now, 53 books later….
“The Art of Joinery” by Joseph Moxon has always been fascinating reading for me. When I first got my hands on a copy, I thought: Now I will learn the secrets of 17th-century joinery. But after reading Moxon a dozen times, I was shocked by how little had changed between the 17th century and the 21st. The tools, processes and mindset were very familiar (after I got past some unusual spellings).
So why even read the book? It represents one of the foundations of our craft, and it is written by an observer – not a practitioner – of the craft. And so it crackles with excitement as Moxon (a printer by trade) learns about an allied skill. And it is a window to an earlier world that we can easily relate to as Moxon documents sharpening, making boards flat and cutting a mortise-and-tenon joint.
The book was eventually followed up by Peter Nicholson’s “Mechanic’s Companion,” which is still as useful today as it was in 1812 for hand-tool woodworkers. Together, these two books are the foundation of our hand-tool knowledge in English.
“The Art of Joinery” is also unique in our catalog for the way it is printed. The pages have a rough outer edge – called a “deckle” edge – that mimics the look of early books. And the undyed paper was selected because it looks like early rag paper. All-in-all, it’s a fun book to read and contemplate.
— Christopher Schwarz
The following is excerpted from “The Art of Joinery,” by Joseph Moxon.
S. 8. The use of the plow.
The plow marked B 6. is a narrow rabbet plane with some additions to it, including two square staves, marked a a {yet some of them have the upper edges of the staves rounded off for the better compliance [fit] with the hand}. These staves are let through two square mortises in the stock, marked “b b.” The staves are about seven or eight inches long and stand straight and square on the far side of the stock. These two staves have shoulders on the closer side of the stock that reach down to the wooden sole of the plane {for there is also an iron sole belonging to the plow}. To the bottom of these two shoulders is riveted with iron rivets a fence {as workmen call it}, which comes close under the wooden sole, and its depth reaches below the iron sole about half an inch. Because the iron of the plow is very narrow and the sides of it towards the bottom are not to be enclosed in the stock {for the same reason that was given in the rabbet plane}, therefore upon the stock is let in, and strongly nailed, an iron plate that is the thickness of the plow iron. [That is because] wood [alone] of that breadth will not be strong enough to endure the force the lower end of the plow iron is put to. This iron plate is almost of the same thickness that the breadth of a plow iron is. Joiners have several plows for several widths of grooves.
The office of the plow is to plow a narrow, square groove on the edge of a board. The board is set on edge with one end in the bench-screw, and its other edge upon a pin or pins that are put into a hole or holes in the leg or legs of the bench. Such a hole or holes [are chosen that] will most conveniently for height, fit the breadth of the board. Then the fence of the plow is set to that distance off the iron plate of the plow that you intend the groove shall lie off the edge of the board. If you would have the groove lie half an inch off the [edge of the] board, then the two staves must with the mallet be knocked through the mortises in the stock until the fence stands half an inch off the iron plate. And if the staves are fitted stiff enough in the mortises of the stock, it will keep at that distance while you plow the groove. For the fence {lying lower than the iron of the plane}: When you set the iron of the plow upon the edge of the board, [it] will lie flat against the farther edge of the board, and so [it will] keep the iron of the plow all the length of the board at the same distance from the edge of the board that the iron of the plow has [been set by the user] from the fence. Therefore [with] your plow being thus fitted, [you can] plow the groove as you work with other planes; only as you hold on the stock of other planes when you use them, now you must lay hold of the two staves and their shoulders and so thrust your plow forwards until your groove be made to your depth.
If the staves are not stiff enough in the mortises in the stock, you must stiffen them by knocking a little wooden wedge between the staves and their mortises.
Analysis
Moxon’s plow is widely reported as a mirror image of the same tool in Félibien’s work. And that is why this picture of this plow is like a Gucci bag for sale on an urban street corner. It looks OK from about 10 feet. But on closer inspection, this is not the plow you’re looking for.
Unlike many tools in Moxon, the plow has evolved quite a bit since his description. And you’d be unlikely to find a plow as he describes. Let’s look at the differences between the Moxon plow and some ultra-contemporary (19th-century) ones.
1 The posts or staves. Moxon states that the staves move through the body of the tool to adjust the fence. The fence is fixed to the staves. This kind of wooden plow was common in England and North America but not Europe. In typical European plows (which is what is shown in the accompanying plate) the staves are fixed to the body and the fence slides on them.
2 From many plows, one. Moxon states that the mechanic would have a different plow for every size groove. Modern plows have interchangeable irons in a range of sizes.
3 How the fence is set. In Moxon’s book, the staves and fence are friction-fit into mortises. So you tap the fence and staves to move the fence closer to or farther away from the cutter (with wedges to help).
Modern plows use something mechanical to secure the fence, from thumbscrews to screws to far, far more clever mechanisms.
4 No depth stop. All but the most primitive plow planes have a depth stop that stops the plane’s cutting action when you reach your final depth. No mention of a depth stop is made in Moxon.
As to actually using the plow, Moxon merely states that you set the fence and thrust it forward like the other planes. This would imply that you start planing at one end and take a shaving to the other end. This can work. However, many craftsmen use a different technique.
Many start near the far end of the board and take a short stroke with the plow to start cutting a groove just a few inches long. Then each following stroke is a little bit longer as the woodworker backs up along the length of the board.
You can indeed do exactly what Moxon suggests, but the chances of your iron wandering by following the grain of the board are greater.
By taking short, advancing strokes, you can keep the plow’s fence against the work during the part of the cut that is new, then the cutter drops into the already-made groove and the tool won’t jump out.
Plus, if your plow plane does wander, it will be for a shorter distance, and you’ll get an opportunity to make a correction before the tool wanders so far that your work is ruined. Here’s another tip on use: Give each of your hands only one job to do when working with the plow. Use one hand to thrust the plane forward. Use the other hand to press the fence against the work. Don’t try to make both hands do both jobs.
53 books? Seriously? I would not have guessed. Wow. I’ve bought some of your tools, none of your hats or posters, but I know for a fact I’ve bought every last book. And I still wouldn’t have guessed it was 53.
Keep going!
As the author of two boring, technical books written for a very small population of boring, technical people, I applaud your efforts to make the obscure available to unpopular audiences. May your cupboard never be bare.
I am not a heavy user of planes, certainly not for grooves or moldings, but I have a fascination with them, especially the wooden planes, which has resulted in at least 75 of them in my antique collection spanning 200 years, English, Scottish, Dutch and American. I have quite a few of the narrow body single purpose planes, some are carriage maker planes, and some are obviously made by the user instead of a professional shop, the most interesting ones for barrel and bucket making. My plow planes range from simple to fancy, but all have threaded staves that go through the body with stops that lock the fence in position, many of them have the handle integral to the body block, and most have depth stops, usually of brass. I have a couple of the all metal plows with interchangeable blades.
Oh contraire, being of the minority of right minded people, that IS the plane I’m looking for! The lack of correctly handed planes has led to an enjoyable hobby building planes. So far, I’ve built a jointer (out of 3/4″ laminated home center oak), a couple drawer bottom planes (out of birds eye pine!!), a chisel plane, and a prototype Yankee plow (also out of pine). With the exception of the plow they all work surprisingly well. Also should note that I used my LN mortise chisel for the plow and larger drawer bottom plane and my Ashley isles 1/8″ chisel for the smaller drawer bottom plane. So I lived up to ATC and have fewer blades to sharpen.