I am seeking information on the coin-operated National Automatic
Orchestra, a.k.a. the Batdorf Orchestra.  So far as I know, this unit
has not been studied in modern times.  Through the efforts of Glenn
Grabinsky and via searches, original patents have been found for
America and Germany as have the following two contemporary mentions.

Basically, the unit is based on certain mechanisms of a small Symphonia
organette made by the Wilcox & White Company of Meriden, Connecticut.
For at least some, the organette was adapted by having four of the
music holes in the paper roll connect to as many saucer bells, no doubt
producing a sound that could be heard loudly among Atlantic City
amusements and festivities (see below).  On the other hand, Batdorf's
German patent of 1891 (no U.S. patent or application has been found)
shows 17 bells plus percussion.  I wonder if one of these was described
by a visitor to Atlantic City?

The mechanisms were built into a wooden cabinet about five feet high.
Upon the drop of a cent or a nickel, the special clockwork mechanism
of the orchestra (as it was called) would go into motion via a dropping
weight, with the speed controlled by a flywheel.  The long roll was
formed into a continuous loop stored in a bin at the bottom.  It was
introduced in the early 1890s in an era in which few amusement places
were wired for electricity.  Glenn Grabinsky has speculated that this
may be the first coin-operated pneumatic automatic musical instrument
made in America.

No original advertisements have been located.  My instrument came from
Hanspeter Kyburz in Europe, who acquired it years earlier from Marty
Roenigk.  The late George Theobald, California restorer and collector,
once had another National Automatic Orchestra and possibly knew of
still another, other than the Roenigk (now QDB) instrument.  Does
anyone know where these are today?

These are the contemporary accounts found to date (here excerpted):

The Cornhill Magazine, London, November 1894, told of a recent visit
by an unidentified tourist to the seaside resort of Atlantic City,
New Jersey, including on this day:

  "June 28th.  Morning breaks here pleasantly enough, with the boys
calling "The Philadelphia Ledger" and "The Atlantic City Daily
Guest" along the board-walk.  The latter is the society paper of the
place; in it you may read that "Morris Newberger, the well-known
butcher from Camden," or "Aaron C. Ropers, jun., the prominent young
roof-slater from Germantown," are "enjoying the beneficial results of
the salt air."  The papers are followed by the flower boys, coloured
youths, balancing trays of pinks and roses and magnolia, like French
waiters.  Soon the steam-organs in the merry-go-rounds wake to raucous
life; all day long they snarl the "Washington Post March" and the
"Lily and the Rose."  Then there join in the band on the pier, and the
fainter, genteeler melodies from the Casino, the Batdorf orchestras
which you set going with a nickel, the organette from the drug store,
and the never-ceasing rattle from the switchbacks."

The Jersey City Evening Journal, April 24, 1896, included this
(excerpted):

  "A few days ago a well-dressed young man made a tour of the
Greenville saloons in the interest of a New York concern which leases
penny-in-the-slot aeolian organs to saloonkeepers upon condition that
they place them in their saloons, the company to receive a percentage
of the money realized by the enterprise.  The young man found no
difficulty in placing the organs in all but a few of the saloons,
the average Greenville saloonkeeper having an eye on the pennies as
well as the dollars.  The organs are encased in a wooden box about
three feet by two, and five feet high.  A large sign fastened to the
back informs them whose curiosity attract them to read it that it is
the "Automatic Orchestra," and that by dropping one cent in the slot
it will play no less than four of the latest popular airs.  To hear
these choice selections the directions say that one must "lift the
latch, place a perfect one cent in the slot, then turn the handle
until the music starts.

  "The saloonkeeper started in to amuse the customers.  Turning the
crank the requisite number of times, indicated by a chuckety-bump-bump,
caused by the falling of a heavy weight, the orchestra started off
with a wind solo -- all that could be heard being the rush of wind from
the bellows.  Then the first bar of "We Were Sweethearts, Nell and I,"
with a half dozen false notes, came forth in unmeasured time; it seemed
like a 2:40 gait.  "The Snow Waltz" took its inning on the second bar,
scored a "three strikes and out," and retired in favor of "The Fatal
Wedding."  Alas for this ditty, it died on first base.

  "The decision was disputed and the umpire bellows got in more of
its fine work.  There was enough wind to supply a western town with
a first class hurricane.  After several snorts the orchestra very
appropriately started from third to home, to the tune of "She May
Have Seen Better Days.

  "The other machines have all acted more or less in this fashion.
Some went on strike when first placed in position.  According to last
accounts the deadlock has not been broken.  When the agent calls next
month to collect his percentage of the receipts, he will not only find
no receipts, but angry saloonkeepers who will threaten to throw the
orchestras out into the street if he does not remove them."

All of the above is lots of fun to contemplate today!

Somewhat related to the above, if you are a member of the Automatic
Musical Instrument Collectors Association (AMICA), the next issue of
the "AMICA Bulletin" will contain my general-information article on
organettes, which may be of interest.

Dave Bowers
P.O. Box 539
Wolfeboro Falls, NH 03896 USA
qdbarchive@metrocast.net.geentroep [delete ".geentroep" to reply]