We are in Dunedin, sharing Christmas and the New Zealand summer with Sue and Pete and the grandsons, Tarren and Bryn. In the garage back home is a stack of sycamore planks and beams, freshly milled from a tree felled in our wood, levelled and sticked to enable them to dry with minimum bend and twist. They are destined to become a garden bench for Carol and Ian, and a solid, heavy workbench for me – after a lifetime of DIY using a Black & Decker Workmate, I am going to have a proper workbench at last.

Having been researching bench fittings and accessories for a while, I have become sensitised to such things, and a few days ago, I noticed a newly interesting device attached to the ancient, mouldering workbench in the garage.

I say “newly interesting” because we have been visiting since 2002, and I haven’t noticed it before. I’m talking about that plank of wood attached to the bench by a threaded rod (not visible) and a tommy bar. Obviously a vice of some sort which had been very well used in the past (not recently though, eh Pete?) judging by the wear the wood had suffered.

Researching what kind of vice it could be, I got no help from Wikipedia, which listed a number of different vices, none of which could be the one in question. It was only when I delved into the world of woodworking forums (fora?) that I came across the staple of 18th century carpentry, the leg vice. Apparently, this device was ubiquitous at the time, and fell into disuse with the arrival of the mass produced iron face vice, but is now making a bit of a comeback – see this link to a modern manufacturer with some improvements to the original design. The leg vice had a guide attached to the bottom of the plank in order to keep it parallel to the leg, and I then noticed the rectangular hole near the bottom of the plank by which the guide would have been attached. And, conclusive confirmation, when I felt the leg supporting the bench, there was the hole that the guide would have passed through.

I was immediately captivated by the idea of incorporating the leg vice, with its long history and working life, into my new soon-to-be-built workbench. When I told Pete about my discovery and diffidently suggested that he might like to refurbish the leg vice, he pointed out that he would not use it, and immediately set about taking it apart. After overcoming a reluctant screw, we soon had the vice screw and the threaded socket in the bench leg removed.

The ironmongery is all I shall take home – hopefully, it will not send my luggage allowance over the limit – and the plank of wood, technically called the “chop”, will be replaced by a brand new piece of sycamore from our wood. Oh, and I’ve bought Pete a Workmate for Christmas. Perhaps Bryn might get some use from it …

So what was the leg vice used for? It is particularly good at holding large items such as doors or window frames. Sue tells me that all of the houses in her street were built by the same chap, and it seems possible that at least some of the fittings for the houses were prepared on it.

If you want to know more, an English improvement on the old leg vice is here, and the story of someone else who refurbished a leg vice family heirloom is here.