Below are two handplaning techniques from Robert Wearing’s “The Solution at Hand.” Wearing was one of the foremost experts on woodworking appliances; he wrote extensively about them for Woodworker magazine and published a number of books on the topic. In 2019, we approached Wearing about collecting the best of the appliances for handwork into one new book, and he agreed.
The result is “The Solution at Hand: Jigs & Fixtures to Make Benchwork Easier,” a hardbound book of our favorite jigs from Wearing’s career. The book covers a wide swath of material, from building workbench appliances for planing, to making handscrews (and many other ingenious clamps), some simple tools that you cannot buy anywhere else, to marking devices that make complex tasks easier.
– Fitz
Thin strips of identical thickness, such as may be required for laminating, can be accurately produced by handplaning by means of a simple jig. This consists of a base-block, A, and two rebated side members, B. The space between the two rebates must just allow free movement of the chosen jack plane. A projects below B, to be held in the vice.
The sides are glued and pinned in place using an assembly block with a true face in the plane position and a piece of ply, card or suitable spacing material of the required thickness. The illustration makes this clear. When complete, an end stop, C, is fitted.
Modifications: For the making of stringings for inlaying or musical instrument making, grooves are ploughed or cut on the circular saw in the baseblock A. In this case there is no need for rebated sides. Very thin pieces will tend to buckle when planed against a stop. This is overcome by cutting away some of the baseblock and pinning on the workpiece below the level of the blade. In this case, of course, the components and the jig must be made extra long.
An adjustable model can be made by slotting and screwing on the sides. The adjustment is made using the same method as when gluing on the sides to the simple model. Solid wood keys for reinforcing mitre joints can be produced in this manner.
Handplaning Very Small Components
Very small components can best be planed by holding a plane upside down in the vice and pushing the workpiece over the blade. As this method gives every chance of shaving off the fingertips, a push stick is an advantage. Even better is this simple planing device. It consists of a hardwood base with a firmly secured handle. Guide pieces, thinner than the finished job, can be pinned or glued on so that they can be changed when the aid is used for another job.
In today’s look at a smallish section of the loosely organized Covington Mechanical Library (it becomes looser every time I look at a shelf and bemoan the mis-shelving), we’ll travel to the United Kingdom and a few of her former colonies, as well as France, Estonia (via the CIA), and Sweden. And yes, I took the picture below after rearranging a bit from the lead image – so now this shelf is at least slightly more organized. (Why such a small section? I have a class that starts Monday, I’m writing this on Saturday, and I’m not quite done with stock prep. I’ll cover the rest of this shelf in my next library post.)
England The first grouping is English furniture, starting (appropriately) with Edward T. Joy’s “English Furniture: 1800-1851” (Sotheby Parke Bernet, 1977), which includes the influence of Hepplewhite and Sheraton at the start of the period, the Regency period to the Great Exhibition/Victorian. That’s followed by our friend Charles H. Hayward’s “English Period Furniture Designs” (Arco, 1968). As far as I can tell, these are drawings he did for The Woodworker Magazine that were compiled by the publisher, and include measured drawings and select details for pieces ranging from the late 15th century through the Regency. In the back are one-page illustrations of various forms through the ages (chairs, chests, etc.). Next is Margaret Jourdain’s expanded edition of John C. Rogers’ “English Furniture” (Sterling, 1950). It’s divided into broad historical periods, and includes nice drawings select details and how they changed over time (drawers, cabriole legs), as well as a few tricky joints – stuff you can’t see from the outside.
David Knell’s “English Country Furniture: 1500-1900” second edition (Antique Collectors’ Club, 2000) will come as no surprise to those who know its owners love of all things vernacular – though Chris prefers Gilbert and Chinnery – both of whom are well represented in our collection…though not all on this shelf. Next is one of those favorites: Christopher Gilbert’s “English Vernacular Furniture: 1750-1900” (Yale UP, 1991), which Chris says is both excellent writing and research. Then it’s Mark P. McGrail’s “Furniture Brasses: A Short History of English Furniture Fittings (Armac Manufacturing, 1997). This one is published by a maker of hardware, so it of course shows their wares – but it’s also an invaluable education of what hardware is appropriate to the various periods in English furniture. Next up is an saddle-stitched exhibition catalog, “A Exhibition of Common Furniture” from the Stable Court Exhibition Galleries in Leeds, 1982. Our researcher extraordinaire Suzanne Ellison sent this one to Chris. It’s where he got the idea for his dearly departed dugout chair, and it has the story of his favorite “creepie” (see below).
The last book English Furniture book (in this grouping) is Christopher Gilbert’s “Selected Writings on Vernacular Furniture: 1966-98” (The Regional Furniture Society, 1991). The title alone should reveal its appeal.
Wales & Ireland I am quite sure we have more books on both Welsh and Irish Furniture; they must be upstairs on Chris’ bedside reading stack or elsewhere on these shelves. They’ll turn up on this blog series eventually. Here, however, we have one lone Welsh offering: Richard Bebb’s “Welsh Country Furniture,” (Shire, 1994). It’s a short treatment of forms and attribution. Then it’s across the Irish Sea with Nicholas Loughnan’s “Irish Country Furniture” (Easton & Son, 1984) and John Teahan’s “Irish Furniture & Woodcraft”(Town House and Country House, 1994). Both are slim volumes that offer but a glimpse of work from the Emerald Isle. David Shaw-Smith’s “Ireland’s Traditional Crafts” (Thames & Hundson, 1984) looks at handicraft beyond furniture, from willow and straw work to other woodwork (coopering, pipes) to textiles to stonework and more. Then we have the first edition of Claudia Kinmonth’s “Irish Country Furniture 1700-1950” (Yale UP 1993). You can read more about Kinmonth in Nancy Hiller’s profile of her.
Canada & New Zealand Howard Pain’s “The Heritage of Upper Canadian Furniture: A Study in the Survival of Formal and Vernacular Styles from Britain, America and Europe, 1780-1900” second edition (Key Porter, 1984). Publisher Steve Shanesy had this book at Popular Woodworking, and Chris always loved it. So he bought a copy. It’s an interesting look at furniture that hasn’t gotten a lot of coverage – pieces based on the traditional furniture of those who emigrated to Canada from all over the world, but produced in very different conditions. And there are a fair number of stick chairs. S. Northcote-Bade’s “Colonial Furniture in New Zealand” (Reed, 1971), a gift from a reader when Chris was working on “Campaign Furniture.” It shows some portable furniture, suitable for use on a ship and at home in the owner’s final destination.
France, Estonia & Sweden. (Together Why?) For some reason, we’ve a single book on the crafts of France in this section (there are many more to come): “The Handicrafts of France: As Recorded in the Descriptions des Arts et Métiers 1761-1788,” (by Arthur Cole and George Watts, published by Augusts Kelley, 1952). That’s followed by Ants Viires’ revised edition of what we call “Woodworking in Estonia” – the one on which our translation is based. Alongside it is the 1969 translation into English, which has one of the craziest book stories I’ve read. Part 1 of said story is here; part 2 is here.
Last on today’s world tour is Hans Keijser, Lars Sjöberg and R. Willick’s “Making Swedish Country Furniture & Household Things” (Cloudburst Press, 1976). This was liberated from, er, a former employer, by…someone. This isn’t slöjd work; rather it’s the vernacular furniture than informs much of Chris’ work. In this book is the “Skansen Bench,” which was built as as “I Can Do That” project for Popular Woodworking, and has since been repurposed as a low workbench.
— Fitz
This is the ninth post in the Covington Mechanical Library tour. To see the earlier ones, click on “Categories” on the right rail, and drop down to “Mechanical Library.” Or click here.
Now that we’ve sold through our copies, we’re offering a free pdf of our high-quality scan of the “Stanley Catalogue No. 34.” You can read it in this post, and click on the link below the window to download.
This catalog shows nearly every tool needed in a hand-tool shop, from the chisels to the butt gauges to every sort of plane in Stanley’s 1914 line. The catalog’s text explains what each one was used for and how it functions differently from other similar tools available at the time.
The catalog also has fantastic exploded views of many of the complex tools, such as the company’s miter boxes, the multi-planes and handplanes.
It’s a great way to better understand how hand tools of all sorts work.
This year I am returning to hand-cut mortise-and-tenon joinery for my new book “The American Peasant” (I have a whole substack going about the book). All the parts for the projects in this book are processed, joined and finished by hand (using split stock when possible).
Why? Because now I can.
When I left Popular Woodworking in 2011, Lost Art Press (LAP) was just me and John. The company didn’t provide much income, so I built furniture on commission for eight years (I now only build on spec). That meant I needed to use machines to process stock, and the joinery was a mixed bag. Lots of hand-cut dovetails. But also lots of Domino joinery (after I got rid of my hollow-chisel mortiser).
Today Megan Fitzpatrick is the editor here at LAP, and I have a little breathing room. I still need to sell furniture to make ends meet, but I’m going to fill any extra time with work I enjoy.
The Ray Iles, which I have written about many times, are perfect things. Their oval handles allow you to orient the tool properly and steer the cut. The shape of the blade allows you to scrape the walls of the mortise without getting stuck. They are tough mothers. (My only quibble is the steel. The D2 really needs diamond media to sharpen it right. Good thing we have a couple diamond stones.)
You don’t really need to buy a whole set of the mortisers (I know Joel, who sells them, disagrees – wink). I do about 90 percent of my work with the 1/4″ and 5/16″.
Anyway, these chisels still have my highest recommendation. I’ve used a lot of other mortising chisels, and they pale in comparison to the Ray Iles.
What I like about the Blue Spruce mallet in particular is the resin-infused head. The resin makes it nearly indestructible. I also love its leather-covered face, which helps prevent dents in nearly finished work. I’ve had this mallet for at least 12 years and use it every day. In fact, today I decided to be nice to it, and I scraped 12 years of glue and grime off the handle.
And let me repeat myself once more: I paid full retail for all these tools. No one asked me to write this review. If they did ask, I would probably tell them to “get bent” and refuse to write anything. (That’s the kind of weirdo I am.)
In celebration of Black History Month, Whitney Miller is sharing interesting facts she learned while researching, writing and illustrating “Henry Boyd’s Freedom Bed” throughout the month on Instagram, @whitneyontv.
Several years ago, Lost Art Press hired Suzanne Ellison to spend several months looking through public archives for anything she could find related to Boyd’s life. She uncovered a fascinating life story, dispelled myths and uncovered some important truths. Suzanne’s work is always nothing short of impressive. As Suzanne wrote in this post:
Using historical documents and contemporaneous accounts we can reconstruct much of what Boyd did in his life and we can extrapolate ideas that were important to him. He was, however, always living in two worlds. At his birth, his white father owned him and his mother was enslaved; he received an education likely denied to others. He could start a successful business, prosper and be well-regarded, but his public life was proscribed by state Black Laws and threats of violence. He had a law-abiding public life countered by a dangerous hidden life of illegal acts to help escaped slaves. We can try to imagine how he felt to truly be a citizen and cast his first vote, but we can’t even get close. About his suffering while enslaved, or once he was free, we will never know.
We’ve shared Suzanne’s research with local museums, and it was the foundation upon which the Cincinnati History Museum created its installation on Boyd. This research also served as the foundation for Whitney’s wonderful picture book, “Henry Boyd’s Freedom Bed.”
If you don’t already follow Whitney on Instagram, you should. Her account is one of our favorites to follow. Check it out all month long as she shares facts about Boyd both in the book and not. These clips, suitable for all ages, serve as a great way for children to learn more about Boyd’s life too.