Up the Gatineau! Article
This article was first published in Up the Gatineau! Volume 20.
Squaring the Log
Archie M. Pennie
The symbol of the Historical Society of the Gatineau is the broad axe. It is a tool that in today's economy and environment is solely a museum piece and no longer has a functional role. People skilled and proficient in its use are extremely hard to find — quite a change from 80 or 90 years ago when practically every country boy learned to use one at an early age and supplemented the family income by hewing railroad ties.
The broad axe was king in the pioneer days in the Ottawa Valley ard, without it and the skilled operator, there would have not been the lucrative squared timber trade.
For those who have an interest in woodworking and tools, there are many examples of the great skill and craftsmanship of the axe men to be seen in old barns, homes or cottages in the Ottawa and Gatineau Valleys.
At the height of the Ottawa Valley lumber trade, the Ottawa-Hull area was the centre of the axe manufacturing industry. The broad axe was a specialty of this trade and many of the axes kept as souvenirs of this great era bear the names of Blasdell, Washburn, Perkins or Walters. Perhaps Nathaniel Blasdell, who was in business in Bytown by 1840, was the most prominent of the craftsmen. His business developed rapidly and he opened a new and “modern” factory utilising steam power in 1853. With up-to-date equipment, such as a trip hammer, he was able to forge 100 broad axes a day!
For many years now an Ottawa-made broad axe, complete with offset handle, has graced our fireplace. It has been an object of interest and conversation on many occasions. The axe bears the stamp of Washburn and is a product of the great timber days of the Ottawa Valley; it was forged here in Hull well over a century and a half ago.
As well as being a conversation piece, the broad axe by the fireplace has been a challenge to me. I recently tightened up the handle, sharpened the blade and took it with me for a weekend in the Gatineau Valley and set myself the task of squaring a log.
Since I was unable to find an instructor for a demonstration I had to rely on sketchy information gleaned from books and the odd piece of advice gathered second or third hand over the years. One advisor suggested that the apprentice or tyro broad axe man should, to protect his legs and feet in his early attempts, stand in two butter boxes! Good old butter boxes are just as hard to come by these days as the broad axes, so I had to get along without them and instead wore a heavy pair of ammunition boots.
Like Mrs. Beeton‘s advice on making jugged hare - "first catch a hare" — I had to first find a suitable log. Fortunately this was no serious problem as a short excursion around the shore of Lake Pemichangan produced an 8-inch diameter Cedar log.
After peeling it I marked on one end the finished dimensions of the square I hoped to cut, then from each corner snapped four parallel chalk lines along the length of the log. On each face of the log, between the parallel lines, I cut notches about 10 inches apart from the outside curvature down to meet the chalk lines. These notches were made with an ordinary axe and served as depth guides.
Now came the great test and challenge. I was ready to square down through the notches with the broad axe. This type of tool is more like a giant wood chisel than an axe. To start with, it weighs 10 pounds (an ordinary axe tips the scales at 3 pounds), has one face perfectly square and flat and has a chisel edge. The handle is offset from the blade so that the flat face can make contact with the work without the hands of the handle getting in the way.
With legs well out of range of the axe, I started to hew to the line from one end down to the first notch. At first I found the axe heavy and awkward and my aim was far from accurate. Sometimes I struck too close to the outside edge. Other times I missed and struck ground. and occasionally I hit on the right spot.
This type of operation is like many things — golf, baking apple pie or programming a computer — all a question of applied skill and practice. The further I went with the experiment, the more confidence and skill I gathered. I soon got the feel and balance of the axe and as I worked my way along the log I had fewer "air" shots and more and more rewarding and useful cuts.
It was a pleasure and delight to see and feel that heavy blade bite into the cedar and notice how straight one could cut. It was not until I used the axe that I realized how well it had been designed and manufactured. Its shape, its weight and its edge all ensure that it will, if handled properly, cut on a straight line regardless of the state of the wood grain.
I really enjoyed the experience and the challenge of using the broad axe and was more than proud of my first attempt at log squaring for it turned out a great deal better than I had ever anticipated.
It had been a hot day and the experiment, although rewarding and educational, had prepared me well for a few relaxing moments with a cool beer. As I cleaned up the axe and dressed the edge with an oil stone I had the feeling that I had rediscovered a new and useful tool. I resolved there and then to rescue it from its antique and conversation-piece role by the fireside, and install it in my workshop with its more sophisticated modern counterparts.