Drink it in: the Guinness Collection of Instruments and Automata

Before the days of digital music players, compact discs, cassette tapes and even the phonograph, people were entertained by mechanical music makers in their own homes. And before television, many relied on automated toys for amusement. The nation’s largest collection of such machines – and one of the largest in the world – was assembled by brewing heir Murtogh Guinness, and it’s at the Morris Museum.

About 150 pieces of the 700 object collection is on view in a specially-constructed exhibit space, with the rest housed in a viewable storage area downstairs. Every afternoon, from Tuesday to Sunday, museum docents offer a history of mechanical music makers and automated toys, as well as a demonstration of a few of the museum’s pieces. I was fortunate to attend as Guinness’ former neighbor, Steve Ryder, explained the history of the collection and the technology behind it.

One of the many automata
in the Guinness collection.
Courtesy Morris Museum.

As we learned, the rudimentary principles of the classic music box were discovered centuries ago, but it took until the 1800s before they were produced in quantity. Jewelry and watch makers were among the first to make these smaller devices, given the delicate and exacting nature of the work. At first, Switzerland was the epicenter of the industry, but eventually Germany got into the mix, too.

I was tickled to learn that the mechanical music story has a New Jersey angle. As we learned several months ago from another Hidden New Jersey story, Garwood’s own Aeolian Company was a giant in the player piano trade of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Just a few miles away and around the same time, several music box companies settled in New Jersey. The U.S. government had placed a tariff on music boxes imported from Germany and Switzerland, and the companies got around it by shipping the musical components to the States and assembling them within boxes made here.

The Regina Company of Rahway, in particular, made a series of models for home use. As the phonograph gained in popularity, Regina adapted by creating a dual music box/record player. Ultimately the company gave up on musical devices, shifting its manufacturing might to vacuum cleaners.

Items in the Guinness collection range in size from large beer-hall orchestrons to tiny music boxes housed within a woman’s ring. Steve played two of the larger instruments for us, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think a small band was performing. In essence, it was, since the orchestrons hold drums, pipes, the guts of a piano and even violins. They’re simply amazing!

Impressive as the musical portion of the collection is, I couldn’t wait to see the automata. These are mechanical toys that entertain visually as the music boxes do aurally. Though the vast majority of the automata are too fragile to be demonstrated on a regular basis, museum visitors can watch brief videos showing how several of them work. Steve was kind enough to set two of them in motion, and even to these 21st century eyes, there’s still something very magical about them. I was especially taken with the clown whose head disappears, only to reappear beneath the box he lifts.

While you can visit specifically for the demonstration and lecture, there’s plenty to see and do at other times. Various stations around the exhibit space give you a chance to learn about the mechanics of the instruments, and even to do a little playing around yourself. It’s an especially nice touch for smaller children who may not have the patience for a history lesson.


Many thanks to Hidden New Jersey friend Andrea Marshall for alerting us about these amazing relics of musical, industrial and New Jersey history!

Striker to the line! Base ball with the Elizabeth Resolutes

Visit any good-sized county park on a summer Saturday, and you're bound to see a game or two of baseball on the sandlot diamonds. If you're really lucky, you'll run into one that makes you wonder if you've just stepped onto the Field of Dreams.

Well... maybe your thoughts will land a little earlier in history than that, to about 150 years ago.

A couple of weeks ago I stopped by Rahway River Park in Rahway to watch a game between the home team Elizabeth Resolutes and the visiting Brooklyn Atlantics. Unlike the other teams playing nearby, these gentlemen were dressed in baggy uniforms and high-legged stirrups. They play a game called 'base ball' (that space between the syllables makes all the difference), following rules that differ from those most of us grew up with.

The first thing that struck me a little odd was the lineup. I got there in time to hear the Resolutes' manager reel off the batting order to his team.  "Batting fourth... batting fifth..." Okay, nothing unusual there. "Batting eighth... batting ninth... batting tenth... batting eleventh..." Huh? No designated hitter here, but apparently more players approach the plate than actually play defense at any given time.

Second, equipment is very basic: a bat, a ball, home plate and three bases. Players don't use gloves for batting or fielding, and the catcher wears no protective mask or chest padding. The top hat and vest-wearing umpire had a cane, but I never figured out why.

Third, the game is fast paced, especially when judged against today's professional matches. Pitchers throw to the plate virtually as soon as they receive the ball from the catcher, and there's no delay in returning the ball to the pitcher after a strike is called. If the umpire detects any excess time being taken, he'll hurry the game along with a call of "play ball!" This definitely is not the kind of sport where you can look away and expect not to miss anything.

Oh, and the batter? He's a striker, and he's called to bat with the exhortation, "Striker to the line!"

So what's the deal with these guys, and why the unusual club name?

The 21st century Elizabeth Resolutes are members of the Vintage Base Ball Association and honor a team of the same name that played in New Jersey between 1866 and 1878. Starting as amateurs, the 19th century team won the state championship in 1870 and decided to turn pro in 1872, becoming New Jersey's only participant in the national Association of Professional Base Ball Players. Apparently, though, the team's amateur days were their most successful, and they disbanded after just a few years of professional play.

Today's Resolutes are just one of many base ball teams competing on the East Coast, joining the Flemington Neshanock as New Jersey's two vintage clubs. Besides playing matches in local parks, they add sporting flavor to events that commemorate America's past, like Civil War reenactments and history festivals around the region. Check the Resolutes schedule for upcoming games -- they're definitely worth checking out.