I finally picked up an old Stanley router plane 71 at an estate sale last weekend, and it's already completely changed how I approach my joinery. If you've spent any time looking at vintage hand tools, you know the "Hag's Tooth" is one of those pieces that looks a bit strange—like a giant metal beetle with two handles—but once you use it, you wonder how you ever got by with just a chisel.
The No. 71 is a staple for a reason. While modern companies like Veritas and Lie-Nielsen make beautiful, high-end versions of this tool, there's something special about the original Stanley. It was produced for decades, and because so many were made, they're still relatively easy to find if you're willing to hunt around. But why do we still bother with a manual router in an age of high-speed electric trim routers? To be honest, it's all about control, precision, and the lack of sawdust in your lungs.
Why the No. 71 Still Matters
Even though it's over a century old, the Stanley router plane 71 fills a gap that power tools just can't touch. Don't get me wrong, I love my electric router for hogging out massive amounts of material, but when it comes to the final fit of a tenon or cleaning up a dado, the electric router is just too fast and too violent. One slip and you've ruined a workpiece you spent hours on.
The router plane, on the other hand, is a finesse tool. It's essentially a frame that holds a chisel at a fixed depth. This allows you to plane the bottom of a groove or a mortise so that it's perfectly parallel to the surface of the wood. It takes the guesswork out of depth. If you're cutting a housing for a shelf, you can use the No. 71 to ensure that every single groove is exactly the same depth, which makes your assembly much smoother.
Open Throat vs. Closed Throat
One of the first things you'll notice when shopping for a vintage Stanley is the difference between the 71 and the 71 1/2. The Stanley router plane 71 is an "open throat" design. This means there's a gap in the cast iron body right in front of the blade. The 71 1/2 is a "closed throat," where the metal body completely surrounds the blade.
There's a lot of debate on which is better, but most woodworkers I know prefer the open throat of the 71. It gives you a much better view of the blade as it's cutting. Being able to see exactly where your edge is hitting the line is huge, especially when you're working on stop-dadoes or detailed inlay. The only downside to the open throat is when you're working on the edge of a board; sometimes the tool can tip if you aren't careful. Stanley solved this back in the day by including a small "shoe" that could be screwed onto the bottom to close the throat, but those are almost always missing when you find these tools at flea markets.
Sharpening That Pesky Blade
I'll be the first to admit that sharpening the blade on a Stanley router plane 71 is a bit of a pain. Because the blade is L-shaped, you can't just throw it in a standard honing guide and call it a day. You have to get a little creative.
When I got mine, the blade was nicked and duller than a butter knife. The trick I've found is to use a small diamond plate or a piece of sandpaper glued to a flat tile. You want to focus on the bottom bevel, of course, but don't forget to flatten the back of the "foot." If the back isn't flat, you'll never get a truly crisp edge.
Some guys prefer to take the blade out of the post and hold it by hand, but I find it's easier to keep the blade in the holder and move the entire assembly across the sharpening stone. It feels a bit clunky at first, but it ensures you're keeping the edge square. Once you get it to a mirror polish, the way it slices through cherry or walnut is incredibly satisfying. It makes a distinct "thwack" sound as it peels up a perfect curl of wood.
Putting It to Work in the Shop
So, what do you actually do with a Stanley router plane 71? My favorite use is cleaning up tenon cheeks. I'll cut the tenon slightly proud with a handsaw, and then use the router plane to shave it down to the final dimension. Since the base of the plane sits on the face of the board, it guarantees that the tenon face is perfectly parallel. It's the secret to getting those "piston-fit" joints that don't require any glue to stay together.
Another great use is for hinge gains. If you're hanging a door on a fine cabinet, the hinges need to sit perfectly flush. You can chop the perimeter with a chisel, then use the No. 71 to "bottom out" the mortise. It gives you a flat, consistent surface that a chisel alone just can't match, mostly because our hands aren't perfect depth gauges.
The tool also comes with a fence, which is super handy for cutting grooves along the edge of a board. If I'm making a small box and need a groove for the bottom panel, I often reach for the Stanley instead of setting up a table saw stack. It's quiet, it's meditative, and there's no chance of a kickback.
What to Look for When Buying Vintage
If you're hunting for a Stanley router plane 71, there are a few things to watch out for. These tools were often used in damp sheds, so rust is common. A little surface rust is fine—that'll come off with some steel wool and oil—but you want to avoid heavy pitting on the sole. If the bottom of the plane isn't flat, it won't reference correctly.
Check the knobs, too. The older ones have beautiful rosewood handles, while the later models moved to stained hardwood or even plastic. Make sure the thumb screws aren't stripped. The most important part, though, is the depth adjustment nut. It's a threaded collar that moves the blade up and down. If that's cracked or missing, the tool is basically a paperweight.
Also, try to find one that still has the fence and the different blade widths. Usually, they came with a 1/2" blade, a 1/4" blade, and a V-shaped "spearpoint" blade for getting into corners. If those are missing, you can buy replacements from modern makers, but it'll cost you. I got lucky—mine came with the original fence, though the spearpoint blade had been ground down into a weird shape by someone who clearly didn't know what they were doing.
Final Thoughts on the Hag's Tooth
There's a reason the Stanley router plane 71 has remained a favorite for over a century. It's a bridge between the rough work of sawing and the fine work of finishing. It's a tool that forces you to slow down and actually feel the wood. In a world where everything is powered by batteries and high-decibel motors, there's something deeply rewarding about the silence of a well-tuned hand plane.
It isn't just about nostalgia, though. It's a practical, rugged, and incredibly clever design that solves one of the hardest problems in woodworking: making the bottom of a hole flat. Whether you're a seasoned pro or just starting out with a few basic hand tools, finding a No. 71 is an investment you won't regret. It's one of those rare tools that actually makes you a better woodworker the moment you pick it up. Plus, let's be honest, it looks pretty cool sitting on the workbench.