On the Crucible Holdfast from Christopher Schwarz on Vimeo.
There is a contingent of people who think we are nuts for making our Crucible holdfast the way we do: cast, with a 1”-diameter shaft that’s as rough as a cob.
Yesterday I made a short video that explains our thinking on this tool. You can watch it above if you’d like to learn more about this tool.
— Christopher Schwarz
This is an excerpt from “Campaign Furniture” by Christopher Schwarz.
One of the more common pieces of campaign furniture is the simple trunk, sometimes also called a “strong chest,” “traveling chest” or “barracks chest.” The one shown in this chapter, however, has some unusual details you should be aware of. More about those oddities in a few paragraphs.
Trunks typically have square ends – both the height and depth of the trunk can be roughly 15″ to 25″. In general, they are somewhere between 25″ to 40″ wide. The chests are frequently dovetailed at the corners and bound with brass corners and other brass straps. Despite the dovetails, many of the lids and bottoms of trunks were merely nailed to the carcase. It is not unusual to find a trunk with a lid or bottom that has a split.
The trunks almost always had a lock or hasp to protect the contents.
Many of the trunks were raised on some sort of foot. The foot could be as simple as a sledge (sometimes called sled) foot – just a square of wood – all the way to a complex bracket foot.
Inside, many trunks had a small till with a lid, much like a typical household chest. This till stored small items and its lid served as a stop to hold the trunk’s lid open. The chests are typically made from mahogany, oak, teak and camphorwood, which naturally repels moths.
The trunk shown here is typical in many of its attributes except for the joinery at the corners. Instead of dovetails, I have chosen an uncommon (but definitely reliable) type of joinery found on trunks from the West Indies.
That’s a Rivet?
I first encountered this joint while haunting antique stores on King Street in Charleston, S.C. One of the trunks there had a series of brass circles that ran in a line up each corner. At first it looked like brass inlay, which is a common feature of some Anglo-Indian campaign pieces.
Instead of decoration, the brass circles turned out to be the joinery.
The dealer, who had imported campaign furniture from the West Indies for decades, explained that some collectors referred to that joint as a “rivet.” He explained that the rivet was nothing more than a brass screw that had been driven in so its head was still proud. Then the screw head was filed flush to the carcase, eliminating the slot.
It’s a surprisingly simple and (I think) attractive way to make a strong joint that looks a lot better than having 12 wooden screw plugs lined up on the corners.
This approach shows up in other applications in the woodworking field. Sometimes, screw heads are filed flush with a piece of hardware. And if you’ve ever seen infill handplanes, you know it was common for the maker to screw in the wooden infills and the lever cap then file off the heads – making for a clean sidewall of the tool.
This trunk is based on several smaller English examples I’ve studied that were dovetailed. But instead of the dovetails, I substituted “rivets” as the joinery to make the trunk look more like one from the West Indies. If you want a more English look, cut through- or full-blind dovetails at the corners. The other decorative details, such as the brass corners and bracket feet, pretty much remain the same.
Almost a Butt Joint
The joinery of the trunk is as simple as a modern kitchen cabinet. The ends are captured by 5/16″-deep x 5/8″-wide rabbets cut on the ends of the front and back pieces. This corner joint is first glued then later screwed. The bottom is captured in a groove plowed in the ends, front and back.
The lid is built a lot like the case below. The ends are glued into rabbets in the front and back pieces. The lid is then nailed on top of that assembly.
When building the carcase, there are two basic paths you can follow. You can build the entire chest and lid as one unit then saw the lid free from the carcase. Or you can build the lid and carcase separately.
I took a path between these extremes. I cut the joints on all the parts. Then I ripped the lid parts free from the carcase parts. I assembled the lid and carcase separately. Why? I don’t like pushing a big assembled carcase over a table saw. But all three approaches work. Choose one you like.
— MB
Recently I was contacted by artist Tina Gagnon (www.tinagagnon.com) who, in undertaking some research, ran across the following profile of Henry O. Studley in a local newspaper. While some of the minor facts of the piece are at odds with other historical records, it is nonetheless an interesting peek into the life of this man.
— Don Williams, the author of “Virtuoso: The Tool Cabinet and Workbench of H.O. Studley” and the man behind donsbarn.com.
HAS LIVED 82 YEARS AND HAS LIVED THEM WELL
Henry O. Studley Tells Patriot-Ledger a Clear Conscience is His Secret of Long Life
“It must be a clean conscience” was the answer that H. O. Studley of 66 Washington street of this city gave when asked the secret of his long life.
Evidently he has found the fabled fountain of eternal youth, for when a stranger is told that the local man has lived 83 years, and apparently lived them well, there arises a genuine surprise in the mind of the of the questioner as to the accuracy of the statement, so misleading is his appearance.
It is suspected that this man, who is one of the oldest Masons in the city of Quincy, and a Grand Army member of the local post, is something of a philosopher and it is known that he is a genial gentleman with a sense of humor.
His moral guidance has been to a considerable extend the Golden Rule, and he believes that what is wicked to do on Sunday is wicked on any other day in the week; and while not a member of any church denomination he believes fully in another phase of existence after this life and has a strong suspicion that there may be, under suitable conditions, a communication between the two.
Work, plenty of work, carefully and beautifully contrived work of the hands, along the lines of wood carving and metal work, has occupied the time of Mr. Studley, both as a vocation and means of amusement in the years of the past.
Judging from the many artistically patterned specimens which he possesses, his hands have never been idle; but pretty things of beautiful woods, and these many times inlaid with mother-of-pearl and silver, have made many others happy as well as himself.
Not that all the happiness he has provided has been from beautifully wrought presents, for he has been a musician of repute, especially in playing the banjo, and audiences in various sections of New England have had the opportunity to enjoy his music.
It was because of a very remarkable tool cabinet in his possession and his own work, together with the tools themselves, that the representative of the Patriot-Ledger chanced to meet Mr. Studley in his home here.
The cabinet is of a most ingenious contrivance, containing a multitudinous number of tools of all sizes and kinds, each of which may be removed without misplacing another through a peculiar layer system that has been instituted.
The cabinet was built when Mr. Studley was employed by the Poole Piano Company, a firm for which he worked for about 20 years, completing his duties about three years ago.
His firm was particularly proud of this cabinet and in a paper issued by the company was an article devoted to the maker, with a picture of Mr. Studley and his remarkable cabinet and tools. The article was considerably copied by other trades papers.
Under the caption, “Leading Craftsman Devoted Life to the Study of Instruments,” the following information was given:
The Poole Piano Company has in its employ an action finisher in the person of H.O. Studley, who ranks among the leaders of the trade’s best craftsmen. He has devoted a life to piano manufacturing in its various departments and prides himself on a tool cabinet of his own manufacture, which probably cannot be duplicated in the trade.
“A place for everything and everything in its place” has been the motto in Mr. Studley’s life, the article goes on to state. He built the cabinet in his spare moments from mahogany, inlaid with ebony, pearl and ivory. The cabinet is of many parts and contains several panels of tools which may be removed and each show the same careful regularity of position inside the cabinet.
Continuing, it stated that the local man was born in Lowell, spending his boyhood in South Scituate, but has lived in Quincy since 17 years of age. The article continued: “He commutes every day from the ‘city of Presidents’ to the Poole factory in Cambridge. A veteran of the Civil War, he is wonderfully preserved and is daily at his bench in the action department of the Poole factory. He is precise in every walk of life and puts his best effort into piano actions, which is one of the salient features of the Poole Piano Co.’s pianos and players. He has been a valued employee for a period of 18 years and bids fair to round out many more.”
This was printed several years ago and now Mr. Studley is resting on his oars and enjoying a respite from active duties, having in his home many handsome souvenirs, unique and delicately made, as trophies of those days when his hands skillfully wrought the things his brain contrived.
Among these are jewel cases of handsome design, a miniature organ, a tiny violin in a case, also a weather vane representative of a soldier in uniform which swings its arms indicative of the direction of the wind, as it operates in the breeze. A mallet made of the wood from the old “Constitution” with metal work for adornments, daintily patterned, is also one of the many things possessed.
Interesting among the souvenirs are several tiny books carved from bone and inlaid in colors. These were carved in a rebel prison where the local grand army man was confined for several months. The bone was from meat provided for his sustenance and his only tool was a pocket knife.
A peculiar feature of his skill for handicraft in that Mr. Studley is a “chip off the old block,” his father having been gifted in a similar manner. The local man has a wooden case for a clock, hand carved and about 110 years old, that was fashioned by his father in a skillful manner, but he was the only one of the sons who inherited the gift.
It is said that a man becomes like the vocation which he pursues through life. It may be that contriving things of beauty, with a nicety of detail and precision, together with the harmony of sounds, is conducive to a fine life, with a tendency to increase the years, being apart from the wear and tear of conflicting emotions. Possibly that is why poise and serenity are predominant traits and the years sit so lightly on this maker of beautiful things.
— Quincy Patriot-Ledger, Sept. 21, 1921
We (and our kids) were all inoculated with enough Geometry during middle school to “know” the Pythagorean theorem. You know, the one that enables us to rattle off: “A squared plus B squared equals C squared.” But that particular manifestation of the underlying geometric truth of our particular universe isn’t limited to squares. In the above drawing, we have three hexagons built upon the three legs (labeled A, B and C) of a right triangle. Just like squares, if you add the area of the two little shapes they will equal the area of the biggest one. In other words: A hexagoned plus B hexagoned equals C hexagoned. This works for all similarly shaped polygons by the way.
Want the “proof?” All you need is a couple sticks and a bit of string as in the photo below. Have your 4-year-old lend you a hand…she’ll immediately intuit what an equation is really all about! (No, this is not your rigorous algebraic proof, or even a Euclidean logic proof…Instead it’s what me bandmates used to call: “Good enough for rock and roll.”)
– Jim Tolpin, ByHandandEye.com
You can now watch the episode of Roy Underhill’s “The Woodwright’s Shop” where I discuss the two Roman workbenches I built this summer. Here’s the link to the episode. Yes, I know the text says I’m blacksmith Peter Ross. I’m sure they’ll fix it at some point.
If you want to go deeper into the topic of Roman workbenches, be sure to check out issue two of Mortise & Tenon magazine, which features an article on the low bench and how to use it for cabinetmaking and joinery operations (even dovetails). The issue ships in early January.
And if you are as crazy as I am, stay tuned for the letterpress book we’re producing on these benches here at Lost Art Press and in conjunction with Steamwhistle Press. The first draft of the book is almost fully written. Now I just have to decide if I need to rewrite it with a more sober tone. Right now it reads more like Hunter S. Thompson on workbenches (without the mescaline).
— Christopher Schwarz