This might get a bit wonky. A couple of weeks ago, I purchased a plane that manifests so much of what I love about early tools.It is a fore plane, intended for the job of rough surfacing. I would estimate that it was made in the 1780s or 1790s. The plane is beech wood, and is very well crafted. There is, however, no maker's mark and given the idiosyncratic detail on the wedge, I suspect it was made by a craftsman rather than a professional plane-maker. With its rounded chamfers and 50 degree bed-angle, the plane was probably made in England. The iron is pretty exciting to me. It is round-topped and stamped Newbould - an early mark associated with Samuel Newbould of Sheffield, which dates it to the 1780s or 1790s. It is remarkably thin. I've read that as high-carbon cast steel was expensive in the 18th century, early iron were thin, but this is remarkable. The iron is barely used, and still has the curved, or cambered edge meant for the rough planing of lumber. I am really interested to see how this single, thin, steep, iron cuts.
But the best part? When I bought the plane, the price was low on account of the handle being a replacement. I had to take it apart, and when I removed the screw that held the handle in the body, it got my attention. When I did survey work of early 19th century architecture I had, oddly, the need to learn a lot about screws and how to date them. And this screw? 1820s-1830s And the handle itself is made of poplar, which is important.
So in the last years of the 18th century, when English steel tool-makers were still sending out batches of blades to be finished by laboring families, this plane iron was shaped and tempered and ground in a series of Sheffield households. It was bought by an English tradesman, who made a plane to fit it. Somehow, it made its way to the American mid-atlantic region, where, in the 1820s or 30s, its handle broke. Its owner carefully made a new handle out of the poplar so ubiquitous in the carpentry and cabinetmaking of that region; the light shows the scores of facets left by his knife. And, now, this plane sits on my bench. Amazing
