Eastern white pine is also referred to as Northern, soft, balsam or Weymouth pine. The name Pinus refers to the pine family, while strobus means cone. The tree’s natural range is from Newfoundland to Manitoba, south to Wisconsin and Iowa, and east to the Appalachians down to Georgia. Ordinarily it reaches heights of 80′-100′ (24-30 m). Old king’s broad arrow pines, used for masts in the royal navy, sometimes grew to more than 200′ (60 m). White pines can reach 400 years of age.
Pines, like most conifers, grow a straight central trunk. The branches of white pine grow almost horizontally, usually in groups of five. The pine shoot borer, an increasing pest in pine-growing areas, kills the leader, forces one of the branches to take over as leader and results in deformed or multiple trunks. Pine needles are 2″-5″ (5-12.5 cm) long, grow in bundles of five, and are surrounded by a papery sheath at the base which drops off after the first season. White pine cones are 4″-8″ (10-20 cm) long, fairly thin, quite flexible and take two years to mature. The bark forms gray scaly ridges.
Sapwood of white pine is pale yellow-white. Heartwood is cream to light reddish-brown when freshly sawn, turning to a warm reddish-brown on exposure to air and light. Old, clear heartwood is often referred to as pumpkin pine. The wood contains a fair amount of pitch. It is generally straight, even grained and light, with a density of 25 lb/ft3 (.39 g/cc) at 12 percent MC. It is a real workhorse in most shops, used for jigs, braces and mock-ups. As a pattern wood it has no equal. Quartersawn white pine is the most well behaved of all the native woods. Pine’s ease of sanding, chiseling and planing makes it an ideal secondary wood. When used as such, it fills the entire interior of a chest or cabinet with a clean, woody odor. It is also used as a primary wood. Most of New England’s painted antiques are constructed of white pine. Shellac over the knots prevents the pitch from bleeding through. Perhaps it appears at its best when left raw, or oiled to age naturally.
In this last post on misericords there are carpenters, benches, axe men, one holdfast, one really old misericord, a measured drawing (!) and rabbets rabbits.
One of the fascinating things about misericords is how the craftsman chose to position his subject on these tricky pie-shaped hunks of wood. In the example at the top the viewer is looking into a small shop created under the bracket. By placing the carpenter behind the bench the details of the bench can clearly be seen.
This older misericord with more wear and tear was done by a lesser-skilled hand. Although the carver has given dimension to the bench it is awkwardly angled outward and the carpenter’s head has been twisted almost 180 degrees (ouch).
From the same church and by the same carver here’s another odd angle but a much happier carpenter.
The same idea as the previous two misericords but with a loss of perspective and dimension for the bench. Despite the varying levels of skill in the carvers there was still an effort to show details of the bench, to show the carpenter actually working, and however awkward, to show their faces to the viewer.
Seen from two slightly different angles the carver attempted a bird’s- eye view.
Although portions are missing the carver provided a dimensional bench and good body position with wonderful detail. The vanishing-point perspective of the floor adds nice depth to the scene.
The bas-relief in the Cathedral of Saint-Claude is the only carving showing a holdfast and with a 15th century date it was important to get more information on its history and the original artist. Without the holdfast this example would have been included in the blog post depicting misericord carvers.
Jehan de Vitry of Geneva worked on the choir stalls of Saint-Claude for 15 years, finishing them in 1465. The choir stalls were massive with two sections, each 15 meters long, and backed by a series of tall panels carved in bas-relief. As churches were expanded, or as happened during the Reformation cleared out, a common fate for choir stalls was rearrangement, relocation to another church, or sold for profit. In 1768 the choir stalls of Saint-Claude were cut down, rearranged and covered in ochre paint.
After 400 years heavy restoration was needed, especially for the misericords. From 1869-1875 restoration was done and another rearrangement. The choir stalls were put on the north and south sides of the choir and nave. This rearrangement resulted in some “excess” pieces that were sold off to collectors. Some of those pieces now reside in the Louvre and the Victoria & Albert Museum.
One of the sculptors involved in the 19th century restoration was Alexis Girardet and although the records are not clear it is thought he carved the carpenter with the bench and holdfast. I could not confirm if he reproduced a damaged carving or if this is his own design. I suspect it is his own design because if you look closely at the front left edge of the workbench you will see the initials A. G. To my eye there are some style differences compared to the other bas-reliefs on the inside “walls” of the stalls and no other works had the carver’s initials. So, no 15th century holdfast. Bummer.
But on a brighter note we know when the trees were cut down for the original 15th century construction of the choir stalls. A dendrology study done in the 1980s revealed the trees were cut down in the autumn of 1445 or the winter of 1446.
The troubles for the choir stalls at Saint-Claude continued. On September 26, 1983 there was a fire and the 22 choir stalls on the south side were destroyed. As Saint-Claude is considered a French national monument, photographs on record before the fire were used by an atelier commissioned to recreate the south-side choir stalls.
You may have seen this drawing used in presentations on carpenter’s guilds or with an description from the 19th century: “Carpenter’s apprentice working on a trial piece.” The original is a 15th century misericord from Rouen, France.
There are photos of this misericord with a conservation-style repair to the bracket (I don’t know which is the more recent photo). Two other Rouen misericords are carvers and they have similar body positions which I am now calling “Downward Carpenter.”
One of the oldest, if not the oldest, misericords in Great Britain is in St. Mary the Virgin Church in Hemingbrough. It is dated around 1200, the Early English period.
The open-work of the Hemingbrough misericord is quite different from most misericords. It is easy to see how this early example would be more prone to damage and given the age, more susceptible to theft.
How much is a “used” misericord worth these days?
This misericord is dated around 1450 and is of either English or Flemish origin. Although it is very worn and damaged the auction estimate was $2000 to $4000 (USD) and it sold for close to $8500.
In the gallery in one more (partial) workbench, the axe men and a few other bits.
My daughter Katy finished up another batch of soft wax that is now for sale on etsy. You can check it out here. The 4 oz. tins are $12 each plus $2 shipping.
Katy plans to continue to make the wax during her summer break while she isn’t working as a bagger at the local grocery store. This grocery job will be her first “corporate” gig, and I’ll be interested to see how she likes it.
She’s gotten a lot of questions about the soft wax via email, customers at the storefront and her older sister. Here is a sample:
Q. Is it a food-safe finish?
A. While all finishes are food-safe once the solvent has evaporated (according to the FDA), why take a chance ingesting some unevaporated turpentine? We don’t recommend it for cutting boards or spoons. Try a non-drying vegetable oil instead.
Q. Can I use it on my workbench top?
A. Yes. But it will reduce the friction between your workbench and your work. We recommend straight oil or no finish on workbenches.
Q. Can I use it over other finishes?
A. Absolutely, yes. It is like adding a wax barrier over the finish. It won’t be as hard as a paste wax or floor wax, but it is easy to apply and renew.
Q. Can I use it on my face and lips?
A. Please don’t. Turpentine will irritate your skin.
Q. Can I use it on tool handles?
A. Absolutely. It leave a nice finish on old tool handles.
Q. Is Katy going to make any other products?
Q. We have discussed making a “bench finish” using a recipe I’ve discussed here 100 times. But her sister, Maddy, wants a cut of the family business. We’ll see.
As always, thanks so much for supporting Katy’s efforts. She does it all of her own volition (I’ve got enough on my plate) and is thrilled that people buy it and like it.
Our second book at Lost Art Press was “The Joiner & Cabinet Maker,” a rare and early 19th-century fictional account of an apprenticeship in a rural England shop.
It’s a fantastic little book, written by someone who obviously served an apprenticeship in the 18th century.
In addition to us reprinting the original, Joel Moskowitz (who found the book) wrote an excellent account of what woodworking was like in early 19th-century England. And I contributed several chapters on constructing the three projects that young Thomas made – a packing box, a schoolbox and a nice chest of drawers.
All in all, it’s an interesting introduction to hand-tool woodworking from an historical perspective. (And this might be the only book where I keep my sometimes-troubling tongue in check.)
We sometimes get asked if we have SketchUp drawings of the three projects in the book. And while the construction drawings in the book are all you really need, we make these files available free here.
Using the below link you can download a compressed folder with the three files in them.
While I work every day in SketchUp, I’m no expert on the compatibility of all the different versions out there. You should be able to open them with any version of SketchUp, but I can’t guarantee it.
In our research on Roman workbenches and holdfasts, Suzanne Ellison has turned up some images I’ve not seen before that are a remarkable reminder that our tools, mouldings and hardware haven’t changed all that much in 2,000 years.
Of particular interest has been the Roman fort Saalburg, which was built along the Roman frontier and later abandoned. The fort has been reconstructed and is part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site – check out the fort’s site here.
Saalburg has become a center of research into Roman material culture and houses many artifacts and volumes or research. Several of the artifacts have become the basis for the planing stop that blacksmith Peter Ross has made for my early Roman workbench.
One of the real gems that Suzanne has turned up is a two-volume set of 1897 books called “Das Römerkastell Saalburg” (The Saalburg Romans), which documents the excavation and artifacts found at the fort.
You can download the volumes for yourself. Volume 1 is an overview of Saalburg and a discussion of the architecture and artifacts. The second volume contains supplementary material, including all of the detailed drawings shown here.
I’ve been staring at these for the last couple days and fairly transfixed by the tools, mouldings and hardware in particular. If you’re into planes, definitely check out Vol. 1, which shows planes found at the bottom of a well.