My book on Roman workbenches and early workholding is now a free download for everyone. You don’t have to register, or give up your email, or sign up for sausage-making lessons. You can just click here, and the download will begin.
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This is the seventh book of mine that I have made free to download. It is a small way to help people get started in the craft who might not have a big budget. Here are the other six free titles.
I am working toward making all my books available for a free download. Sometimes this involves getting permission from others who have a stake in the book. That’s why it takes some time and effort.
The following is excerpted from “Ingenious Mechanicks,” by Christopher Schwarz. This book is a journey into the past. It takes the reader from Pompeii, which features the oldest image of a Western bench, to a Roman fort in Germany to inspect the oldest surviving workbench, and finally to Christopher’s shop in Covington, where he recreated three historical workbenches and dozens of early jigs. This specific excerpt is by Suzanne Ellison who is a regular poster for Lost Art Press and did historical research for the book.
It is not surprising to see low Roman workbenches in Italy or any of the former Roman provinces. By mapping our bench discoveries, we found a strong relationship to locations along the Roman roads and trade routes that continued into the early decades of the 18th century.
After mapping the Spanish workbenches, I put an overlay of the Roman roads of Hispania and found, with a few exceptions, the plot points fell along or very near the Via Augusta (formerly the Via Herculea). Via Augusta, one of the major commercial Roman roads, ran along the Mediterranean coast from the Pyrenees in the northeast, through Valencia, diverted inland to Seville and ended back on the coast at Cadiz. Eight workbenches fall along the Via Augusta, with six benches from Valencia and Seville.
Of the 38 low, Roman-type workbenches we espied, we found 21 benches (or 55 percent) that date from the first decade of the 16th century to the end of the 18th century. You can thank St. Joseph for that. Thirteen benches were in paintings from Italy and eight from Spain. But wait, the Kingdom of Naples was part of the Spanish Empire for most of the 1442 to 1714 time period. We have cross-pollination! For instance, Jose de Ribera, a major artist from Valencia, completed his mature work in Naples. Luca Giordano, from Naples, spent a decade in Madrid as court painter for Charles II. Adjusting the numbers results in almost a 50-50 split, with 10 benches for Italy and 11 for Spain.
Some features of the low Italian and Spanish workbenches are a massive top with or without a face vise, a twin-screw vise, an early crochet (possibly the earliest depiction so far) and unusual planing stops. Oh yes, two benches with squared-off notches on the bench ends also turned up in our searches. One of the benches would help solve those mysterious notches on the 2nd-century Roman workbench from Saalburg.
The Mystery of the Notches
Beginning with the extant Saalburg workbench, we found seven benches with notches on the side or end of the benchtop. The Saalburg bench and three 16th-century benches have a fairly close regional distribution, while the examples with a notch in the bench ends are from Italy and Spain. The seventh bench has a side notch and originates from the New Kingdom of Granada in present-day Colombia.
The three 16th-century notched benches are from Memmingen (“Holy Family” by Bernhard Strigel), Nürnberg (Löffelholz bench) in southwest Germany and Bolzano (the Hans Kipferle panel) in northern Italy. The German benches are both dated 1505 and the Italian bench is dated 1561. When these benches are mapped along with the Saalburg bench, possible connections start to emerge. The Via Claudia Augusta, the Roman road that connected the Po River valley with the Raetia province (southern Germany), ran through Bolzano and across the Alps (it is a different road than Via Augusta). The road terminated at the capital of Raetia, Augusta Vindelicorum (present-day Augsburg). A branch off Via Claudia Augusta leads to the Roman city that became Kempten, just south of Memmingen.
Through the Middle Ages, the two main routes to cross the Alps converged in Bolzano and led to Augsburg: the Via Claudia Augusta through the Reschenpass and the Brenner route through the Brenner Pass. East-west Roman roads through Augsburg later also became important trade routes, turning the city into a commercial center. Similarly, Nürnberg benefited from the northsouth trade route it shared with Augsburg. The route was a portion of the Amber Road that linked southern Italy with the north and Baltic Seas. Trade routes were also information routes for cultures and technology. In the 15th and 16th centuries, this part of the former Roman Empire (and later Holy Roman Empire) experienced a cultural flowering. Considering the lengthy Roman presence in this region and the continued use of the trade routes, it is possible the side-notch feature survived and was in use on woodworking benches until at least the mid-16th century.
The two end notches were in paintings from Ravenna, Italy, and Madrid, Spain. The Madrid painting, “Dream of Saint Joseph,” by Luca Giordano, shows a wedge in the notch and was a key to solving the “Saalburg mystery.” I found the image in mid-July and sent it with a few dozen other images to Chris. About a month later while verifying dates, titles, artists and locations of all the paintings I gave “The Dream” a closer look. St. Joseph’s side of the painting has an appealing composition with tremendous detail. One tremendous detail struck me in particular and that evening I emailed Chris asking if he had seen this detail before. The next morning he answered, and you can read about how the notches and wedges work in Chapter 5.
The last bench is from the New World when Colombia was a Spanish colony. The notch is sharply defined and dovetail-shaped. The email I sent to Chris with the image was titled, “Oh Look! What is that Notch in the Bench?” and two minutes later Chris’ response was a joyful expletive.
Any time a picture or video shows up of Chris or me or a student using the low bench to shave spindles, I get questions about the “planing stop” against which the workpiece is held. That’s the “Hulot Block” or “head” that shows up in 1775 book “L’Art du Tourneur Mécancien.” Chris reproduced it for the Roman bench in “Ingenious Mechanics.” It’s on page 97 in Chapter 5: Early Workholding Devices. (There are many other simple and clever workholding devices in that chapter, too – but this is the one that always catches people’s collective eye, and it’s the one that sees the most use in our shop.)
– Fitz
If the shaving horse seems too complex, consider shaving spindles and legs using a setup from M. Hulot’s “L’Art du Tourneur Mécanicien” (1775). Hulot details a low bench he calls a “saddle” for chairmaking. The bench includes a “head” for shaving pieces and wedge-based clamps for holding chair pieces.
To shave pieces, you don the “belly” in front of your belly and immobilize the wood between the belly and the head, as shown in the plate above.
We translated the original text (thanks Tom Bonamici) and offer it here for you to interpret.
The Figure 4, Plate 13, represents a type of bench which is named a Saddle for planing and assembling; it’s a piece of oak of 5 feet in length by 12 to 14 inches in width, and very thick, carried on four strong legs below, R, Y, X, Z, which enter through as many round holes drilled in the bottom of the Saddle, A B. The Worker has his face turned toward the head, H B, which is a big piece of softwood, such as alder, and of which the bottom forms a flat tenon which passes through a mortise in the Saddle; the upper part [of the alder head] forms a type of stepped stop, of which the steps are notched in different ways, some perpendicular and shallow, for receiving the end of flat pieces to be planed on their edge [see vertical notch just to the left of the letter B, Fig. 4, Pl. 13]; the flat steps receive pieces to be planed on their face. Other steps are notched horizontally and vertically in the form of a little spoon, for receiving the end of a baton. There are more little vertical notches next to this hollow, which can be seen in the figure [Fig. 4]. Independently of the tenon which fixes the head H, it [the head] is supported by the cross beam K, also named the transom, head, or buttress of the head, & which is supported at the end & across the Saddle, by two strong pegs of strong and binding wood, such as ash or dogwood, which pass perpendicularly across the cross beam and the Saddle.
If the wood to be planed is big & long, one doesn’t sit on the Saddle, but one stands upright, & one places the end of the wood in the corner H K formed by the cross beam and the side of the head of the Saddle.
The Worker is obliged, in planing a piece of wood, to support its end against his stomach; & so as not to hurt himself, he has in front of him a mass or block of wood that’s named the Belly.
This Belly is a type of wooden piece of oak, a foot long, 6 inches wide, & about 1/3 of an inch thick, Pl. 13, fig. 10. The top part is cut in a roughly oval shape, F I, f G; the bottom part, F I, f k, is made in a roughly semicircular shape; & as the Turner places this Belly in front of himself, the cord of his apron passes from F to f, and by this method the Belly is held fast. In the middle of the oval, one places a block L, of softwood, round, 3 to 4 inches in diameter, by around 2 to 3 inches in thickness, made of end grain, and in the center of which has been inserted a pin l of hardwood, & which is held by a friction fit in a hole in the center of the Belly’s oval; one cuts the end of this pin flush off at the back so that it doesn’t hurt the Artist. On the face of this block, one makes a very shallow groove in the shape of a cross, which serves to hold the flat pieces to be planed, either on their face or on their edge. See Pl. 31, vignette, fig. 3, where the Turner is occupied in planing. Below figure 10, Pl. 13, we see the block shown in perspective; l, is the tenon or pin which enters in the hole in the middle of this block. The holes I, I, which are at the bottom, in the semicircle of these Bellies, serve to hang them on the wall when not in use.
Making the head is simple. Like the shaving horse, the palm and the planing stop, these fit into a 2″ x 2″ mortise in the benchtop. Construction begins with a post that is 2″ x 2″ x 9-3/4″. Plane it so it fits into the benchtop mortise with mallet blows.
Now mortise the post into the 3″ x 3-3/4″ x 5-1/2″ head. Cut a mortise that is 3/4″ deep. Glue the post into the head.
Cut a series of rabbets in the head. I made mine roughly match the plate in Hulot. There also is a blind hole in the middle and a few kerfs. All these notches and kerfs are used to hold onto one end of the work. And, judging by the plate showing the head in use, you place the stick’s tenon in the hole when working a spindle or leg.
The belly is a thin plate of wood that you wear – like an armored breastplate. A block of softwood with two trenches plowed across the end grain serves as the other end of the clamping action. Hulot specifies that the block is friction-fit into a hole into the breastplate, which I assume will allow the block to rotate (if needed).
I made the breastplate from a thin piece of poplar – 1/2″ x 10″ x 14″ cut to a rough oval shape. The block is white pine – 4″ in diameter x 2-3/4″ long. The 3/8″ x 3/8″ trenches cross in the middle of the block. I attached the block to the breastplate with a large screw, which allows it to rotate.
Hulot says the worker’s shop apron string can secure the belly while working. However, my shop apron doesn’t look anything like the aprons shown in the plate. So, I riveted the belly to a pair of $6 suspenders (a couple screws could also do the job of the rivets).
If you are shaving only a couple of pieces, you can prop the belly up on your legs. For long sessions, you’ll want it tethered to you in some way.
The belly is remarkably effective for shaving legs and other chair components. The block holds the work so you can knife the end of your workpiece without the drawknife’s handles hitting your body. Also, the rabbets on the head are all useful – especially the small rabbet at the top, which allows you to shave small components along their entire length.
The belly is an effective alternative to a shavehorse in many cases. It can be used at a high or low bench. It takes up no floor space. It allows you to shave the entire length of a leg or spindle in one swipe. It’s as fast as a shavehorse.
It’s not as effective when dealing with long, thin spindles, such as the 5/8″-diameter back spindles on a Windsor chair. They are so long and flexible that they are a handful when using the belly.
Somehow the stunning mosaics unearthed at the Huqoq synagogue during the last 12 years have escaped my attention. Reader Richard Mahler pointed them out to me, and I have been thinking about them all week.
The mosaic I have been poring over is the one depicting the construction of the Tower of Babel. There are stoneworkers (yawn). A crane taking materials to the top (kinda yawn). A guy adzing a post (!). A guy planing on a bench (!!). Sawing boards Egyptian style (!!!). And a fight with mallets vs. a bowsaw (!!!!). And an interesting window.
There is some interesting woodworking stuff in these mosaics. Let’s start with the guys ripping a board that is standing upright.
The synagogue was built in the early 5th century (C.E.), and yet here we have two guys ripping a plank in a clearly ancient Egyptian style. The plank is vertical and secured in place at the ground, and the workers are sawing down with a wedge in place to help keep the kerf open.
Ancient Egyptian sawyers were depicted working exactly this way with one exception. The ancient Egyptians used a bronze saw – it looks like a Japanese saw. With the teeth set to only one side of the blade.
The Romans here use a frame saw. As far as we know the Romans and Greeks invented frame saws and handplanes. So this is a real interesting transitional scene.
Next we have a guy working the side of a plank with an adze. The post is vertical. Again this is something you see in ancient Egyptian imagery. Later, adzes were shown with longer handles with the work on the floor. Though the handheld adze used vertically still survives in some cultures to this day.
And the workbench. My immediate reaction was: Look at that low Roman workbench. But 2 seconds later my head said: But why is the worker standing up as he planes a board on it? Do we have a problem here because this is a pre-perspective image? (Yes.) But does that explain why he is standing up? (No.)
So we just have to accept that maybe we don’t know what the artist saw. The worker holds the board with his left hand as he planes with his right. There is no evidence of a planing stop.
And finally we have a nice window and a fight between two workers: one holding a bowsaw and the other holding a mallet. The story of the Tower of Babel is about humanity’s attempt to build a tower to heaven. God cursed the workers and made them speak different languages. Chaos ensued.
One amazing thing: Early black woodworker. The earliest image I know.
Second thing: My money is on the guy with a mallet.
All my books that you buy through Lost Art Press will be signed by me through 2024.
It takes a few hours of my time each week, but we are thrilled we can offer this small personal touch now that we have our fulfillment center up and running in Covington, Kentucky.
We also will offer the PG-13 “Sharpen This” sticker when you buy “Sharpen This.” (Our bestselling product of 2023.
This personal-touch stuff is what we have always wanted to offer our customers, but we were hobbled by our efficient but inflexible fulfillment center in Indianapolis.
More personal stuff on the way (no, you won’t be able to buy my underwear).