A Yorkshire saying that has remained with me throughout my life is "you don't get owt for nowt in this world". This particularly applies to woodworking. The story I am about to tell is about a table, a table that we are in the process of making now, a very special table that will be called the "Staunton Table". What's special about it is the timber. To begin the story at the beginning, a few years ago I met a character called John Blunt. I met him originally as a client, and later got to know him as a gallery owner, and I have since become a good friend. John is one of these people whose family have remained in one small area of Leicestershire for hundreds of years, so it is natural that he would have particular strong feelings when a large Ash tree was being taken down adjacent to his gallery. The interesting thing, is that it was a wonderful Ash tree. When an Ash has had time to really develop, and when it has had the space to spread it's boughs out, the chances are that the centre of the tree will take on a character which is now known as Dark Ash or Olive Ash. This is a form of dark streaks and marks in the heart wood of the tree that can be most decorative. This was certainly a mature Ash judging by the boards we have, it must have been some 5ft in diameter at the butt end with a clear butt of eleven feet.

So John was wittering on about this Ash; he was clearly concerned that it should be used for fine furniture rather than gateposts, but I must admit that at that stage I wasn't too interested. Ash is a timber that I can get fairly readily, and usually fairly cheaply, this being the case, I let it lie, that was, until I had the chance to see it.

I've exhibited furniture at the Ferrers Gallery regularly since it opened over three years ago, and when I got the opportunity of a one man show there this Autumn, I decided to go up and have a look around the gallery and work out how many pieces would be needed to fill it. The idea for the "Staunton Table" came about this time; why not use some of John's Ash to make a special piece of furniture. and it was wonderful Ash. When I got down to seeing the stack, and examining a finished sample, I really got very excited.

The markings of the Ash were really quite outstanding, however, you never get owt for nowt as the saying goes, and these boards had a considerable problem. When John Blunt had cut this tree down and sawed it into boards, he had done everything right except stacked the log on level ground. When a tree is cut into boards, it becomes very flexible, and if the ground upon which it is stacked is uneven, it will eventually assume the shape of the hollow or lump on which it was stacked, and this is what had happened to this Ash log. it was reasonably straight for a couple of metres, and then twisted away nicely for the remainder of the butt, not the ideal stuff to make table tops out of but, the figuring was so wonderful, I couldn't resist the challenge of making something from it.

The job was given to Chris Heywood. Chris has been an apprentice with me for nearly three years now, and is about ready to take on a major individual commission. In fact, it had reached the stage that unless we had given him something important, I'm sure he would have got pretty cross. Apprentices in this workshop tend to get given all the rotten jobs for the first year or two, they learn how to sand cabinets and oil chairs and sweep up and assist craftsmen with other jobs. In this way he'd been involved with most of the operations used in making furniture, however he had never yet had the responsibility of making a large major piece of furniture; the "Staunton Table" was his chance. The design of table I had in mind was relatively simple, it was a pedestal table with an elliptical solid top. We had done various versions of this table over the years and I had finally got a design which I felt was clean and simple. There was enough complexity in the making of the piece for Chris to be challenged, yet it should have been well within his capabilities.

The first task Chris had was to draw up a rod, I give most of my craftsmen copies of my presentation drawings, they then have to transfer this into workshop drawings or rods usually on the back of a sheet of plywood. I then check these and detail them up as necessary. Having done this, Chris set about making the legs of the table. These were rough cut on the band saw and then a template was made to the exact shape using the rod as a guide. This template was pinned to each leg individually and used as a guide on the spindle moulder. We make great use of the ring fence in this workshop, it's almost always in use on one of our spindle moulders. Having got the legs to an accurately dimensioned shape, Chris then had to cut the deep camfers. This is where he ran into a problem because the variable angle block that we have would only cut a 70mm land, and the area I wanted camfered was just over 90mm. There was of course the usual pleadings from Chris to change the design to suit the tooling, but I was quite clear about this one. Had the design been changed in the way Chris had wanted, it would have saved a few hours work but would have always looked a compromise. As it was, I stuck out and Chris had to first cut this 70mm camfer with the variable angle block then hand finish the extra 20mm with a spoke shave and plane.

Each leg is fitted around a central core block, the top of which had to be finished with a carving gouge to a concaved dished surface. This taught Chris how to sharpen carving chisels and kept him quiet for an hour or two.

The base of the pedestal is a simple cross halved structure attached to the legs by four mortice and tenons. This gives quite a strong structure, as the area around the tenon is quite large. I wish I had caught Chris before he had placed his wedges in the centre of the tenons, but I was too slow off the mark. The conventional way, and the way I think Chris should have done this, is to have put two wedges in each tenon; these should have been placed towards the outside of the tenon, this way a smaller amount of the tenon has to be displaced by the wedge making the driving in of the wedge a more precise part of the job. When you are driving in a wedge into the tenon, don't use a mallet, use a hammer with a metal head. In this way you can actually hear when the wedge is going home because the note changes. As the wedge is driven in, the pitch of the hammer strokes will change from a low dull sound to a higher pinging sound.

first published in The Woodworker Magazine by David Savage in the series CRAFT OF CABINETMAKING 16

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