Chapter I: Part 1

BEE-KEEPING.

BY

"THE TIMES" BEE-MASTER.

* * * * *

BEE-KEEPING.

BY

"THE TIMES" BEE-MASTER.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.

LONDON:

SAMPSON LOW, SON, & MARSTON.

14, LUDGATE HILL.

1864.

[_The right of translation is reserved._]

LONDON:

PRINTED BY EDMUND EVANS,

RAQUET COURT, FLEET STREET.

PREFACE

My apology for writing a Bee-Book is as follows:--I sent _The Times_ an account of a very successful honey harvest about the end of July, containing some observations on the treatment of bees, and the profits that might accrue to the cottager were he to take the right and humane way of taking honey from his hives. This communication appears to have interested many, for in consequence of it, persons desirous of information wrote to the Editor of _The Times_, requesting in confidence the name of the Bee-master, in order that they might correspond with him. The Editor declined to give it up without my consent, which I felt it expedient to withhold. But to satisfy those who took so warm an interest in the subject, I addressed a series of letters to _The Times_, explanatory of some of the simplest elements of apiculture. These excited so great interest, that I received multitudes of letters addressed to "_The Times_ Bee-master," which it was physically impossible to answer. But most of my correspondents complained of the obscurity and complexity of bee-books in general, and earnestly begged me to prepare a work they could understand and translate into practice. I have attempted to do so, strengthening my own observations by valuable extracts from the works of others. I am not, however, insensible to the great value, wide research, and real usefulness of the works I have carefully and long read. The first and most useful, as well as most beautiful modern work on bees, is "My Bee-Book," by the Rev. William Charles Cotton, M.A., student of Christ Church, Oxon. It is profusely illustrated, and is the most genial and instructive work on bees it has been my lot to read. I have felt so great an interest in this good clergyman, that it often occurred to me to try to ascertain where he was and what he was doing. My own communications to _The Times_, among many interesting letters, brought me one signed "An Australian," which, though long, contains amid much interesting matter some notice of the author of "My Bee-Book." The reader will not, I am sure, complain of its length.

Sir,--It may be interesting to you, whose letters in _The Times_ have
so delighted me, to hear that my experience in _Australia_ of the
habits, instincts, and affections (if I may so apply the word) of your
little favourites is identical with your own. From early childhood I
shared my father's interest in his pets; and at one time I could have
counted upwards of ninety hives in the two apiaries which he kept for
his own amusement, and for the encouragement of those who were willing
to keep bees. Everyone was welcome to a swarm who cared to ask for
one. I may give some curious facts as to the sagacity and gratitude
of these insects. During the prevalence of the hot winds, it sometimes
happens that the delicate comb melts, and the first indication is a
stream of melted honey and smothering bees. I have been called to the
rescue, and have taken up honey and bees in my hands, placed them
in a basin of tepid water, and spread my fingers as landing-stages
until all capable of restoration have plumed their wings and buzzed
gratefully away, and so on until order and comfort was restored to the
disturbed hive. I _never_ was stung on any occasion whilst working
amongst the bees, and only twice that I remember, and then by meeting
an angry bee accidentally in the garden. The buzz of an angry bee
is quite well known to their lovers. On one occasion a swarm met my
sister, and actually began to settle on her hand and arm. She knew
their ways, and walked very slowly on (of course surrounded by bees)
until she found what she considered a comfortable bough, under which
she held her hand. The queen adopted the suggestion, and after a few
minutes' patiently standing amidst the confusion, she quietly retired,
and, as you _will_ believe, unharmed.

Of course we could not house all our swarms, so they went off to the
woods and found habitations in gum-trees hollowed out by the action of
fires through the bush. I recollect one swarm, however, belonging to
a neighbour, which preferred its old quarters, and actually built the
combs and filled them with honey _suspended_ from beneath the shelf
upon which the hives were ranged in the open air. Its ultimate fate I
do not remember.

Bees have many enemies in Australia; the greatest is probably the
sugar-ant. To protect them from these intruders, we had the hives
ranged on shelves, the supports of which stood in wide vessels of
water, alike a protection against other foes. The apiaries were
built open in front and ends, against a wall, with thatched roof and
overhanging eaves; and there was a space between the shelf on which
the hives stood and the wall, where one could sit or stand and watch
them; for most of our hives were square, made of wood, with glass
sides and wooden shutters; and the bees were so accustomed to be
looked at, that they kept their side of the glass quite clean, and
generally built a smooth surface of comb next the glass, leaving space
to move between the comb and the glass; and I have often seen the
queen, surrounded by her admiring subjects (exactly as you describe)
making her progress across the comb, each attendant bee with its head
next her majesty, fanning with its wings, and one could hear a _purr_
of satisfaction.

The antipathies of the bee are very curious. I have known one
individual who was chased perpetually round the garden, and I have
seen him obliged to rush through a hedge to escape his little
tormentors. Their feuds were sometimes most violent, and I have had to
remove a hive from one apiary to the other, a distance of half a mile,
to preserve the bees. Your plan of the super-hives is excellent. Most
of our hives were square, and all of wood. The straw hives proved a
harbour for insects, and deprived us of the pleasure of watching the
bees at work. We used large confectioners' glasses as supers, turned
upside down. They were speedily filled, and we could ensure honey
flavoured with the different blossoms, by placing the glass during the
season of the orange-blossom, or heliotrope, &c., &c.

Our chief guide in the management was a book written by the Rev. Mr.
Cotton, called "My Bee-Book;" and it may be interesting to mention,
that when in after years that gentleman accompanied the Bishop of New
Zealand to that country, via Australia, he was my father's guest. Mr.
Cotton's delight at finding his favourites so appreciated was only
equalled by our pleasure in meeting the author of "My Bee-Book;" but,
sad to say, _our_ bees conceived a dislike to their visitor; and upon
his exhibiting his fearlessness in handling bees, he was stung (much
to the amusement of some _small_ bystanders) by two wicked bees. A
relation of my own kept her bees in the verandah of her drawing-room;
and she has frequently cut out of the hive a large piece of comb,
taking care not to break it, and merely cutting through the little
connecting links of wax which support the layers of comb; and this she
could do with impunity from the super of a busy hive, simply because
she lived amongst her bees. Hoping that this letter may not have
wearied you,

I remain yours faithfully,

An Australian.

_London, 12th August, 1864._

P.S. I have never had an opportunity of keeping bees in England. I
shall look for your promised manual, as I hope some day I may be
able to have some of my favourites to care for. I may add, my father
procured our original stock from Tasmania, in the common straw hive,
a bit of pierced tin fastened over the entrance. One system I do not
see alluded to, which we found answer very well, when we wished, for
any cause, to take the old comb and start the bees afresh. We used in
the early dawn to place the full hive over an empty one, covering all
with a large cloth, and then beat the top hive steadily, not roughly,
with a stick. Very soon the queen would take refuge in the lower box,
when a board was slipped between, and the upper old hive removed. The
bees (the few that loitered behind the queen) soon left the honey to
join their friends: at night the new hive was carried to the site of
the old one, and turned up upon its own board. We always had cross
bars of wood on the hives, upon which the swarm at first clung.

Taylor's and Wood's "Manuals of Bee-keeping" are exceedingly good. Richardson's is very full. Lardner's Treatise in the "Museum of Science and Art" well deserves the attention of the reader.

I do not profess to have struck out any original methods of constructing hives or treating bees. To the science of apiculture I have contributed nothing. All I profess to do is to give plain, practical directions for the successful management of bees, chiefly from observation and experience.

I am persuaded there has been much useful and instructive matter in my letters, because I have received a few very ill-natured communications. One of them (not the worst) I insert, as a specimen of the reception my little work is doomed to expect. But perhaps the writers may repent of their intentions, and recover the sweet temper they seem to have lost.

August 15.

Sir,--I have read very attentively the letters in _The Times_ about
bees, and am convinced that the American gentleman is _right_,
and that much of what _you_ say is mere old woman's twaddle. Your
nonsensical rant about loyalty to the queen-bee (in _these_ days, when
loyalty to _kings_ and _queens_ is utterly and very properly extinct),
and your raving against radical reform (so much wanted in _all_
matters), both give evidence of anility and failing intellect.

I shall act on my conviction by ordering the _American_ book on bees
for myself and friends, and I shall use all my literary influence
(which is _considerable_) in preventing the circulation of _your_
poor trumpery twopenny-halfpenny bee-papers.

A Non-believer in the "Bee-master"
of Tunbridge Wells.

P.S. I am no American, but I sympathise with Messrs. Bright and
Cobden. I rejoice at the downfall of the Danish monarchy; and I would
not fight, _under any circumstances_, either for king, queen, princes,
or peoples--not foreign peoples at least, I look on _loyalty_ as rank
humbug. Kings must behave better before we can respect or love them!

In this work I have purposely left out all notice of a variety of hives as ingenious as they are disliked by bees. Some apiarians have expended all their talent in making tortuous entrances, worrying homes, and elegant residences for the queen and her subjects. They seem to estimate their success by the extent of their departure from simplicity. They merge the useful and convenient in the elegant and complex. But the less the bees are plagued by intricate and arduous arrangements in the interior of their residences, the more comfortable and contented they feel, and the more efficiently they work. It is on this account I have written so favourably of the Ayrshire hive. It is simple in structure, and the parallel openings in the roof of the stock hive introductory to the super are far more liked by the bees than a round central hole, while the facility of removing a super in the honey harvest is perfectly charming. The comb in the super is never or rarely connected with the comb in the stock hive, and, therefore, needs no cutting with zinc plates. A screw-driver gently introduced loosens the propolis, or a table-knife may be employed to cut it all round the lower edge of the super, and the proprietor has only to lift it off and carry it away on a deal board.

I can easily see that had I praised several ingenious contrivances for the residence of bees, I should have provoked fewer charges of ignorance of modern apiculture. I repeat, I have read much on the subject; but my recommendations are not the results of theory or imagination, but of practical knowledge and of careful watching.

The best hop-garden is that which grows the most and best hops; the best mill is that which grinds most corn; and the best hives are those in which is deposited the largest amount of the best honey.

By all means let us have observatory hives for scientific investigations; but what the cottager requires is plenty of produce, with the least tax on his toil and pocket. Hence this work is drawn up, not for scientific apiarians, but for all who wish to enjoy a pleasant and profitable employment.

I must tender my best thanks to Messrs. Neighbour, of Regent-street, London, and to Mr. Pettitt, of Snargate, Dover, for their permission to copy such of their woodcuts as I thought it useful to describe or to suggest amendments on.

I may also add, that in using the name, "_The Times_ Bee-master," I avail myself merely of the title given me by the countless correspondents who did me the honour to write me either directly or indirectly through the editor of _The Times_.

In reprinting my letters to _The Times_, I must here notice an alteration I think expedient. I felt it right to reply to a very injudicious and extreme letter which appeared in that paper. I did so playfully, and with kindly feeling. But the correspondent I thus replied to seems to have viewed it as a personal attack. Under the inspiration of very irritated feelings he wrote another letter to the Editor of _The Times_, which was very properly refused admission. But he was kind enough to send it to several papers, in which he published it, prefacing it in one with controversial remarks so far removed from the courtesies of fair correspondence, that it ceased to be possible to hold any further argument with him. I am really very sorry that a gentleman I never saw, and do not yet know whether he is a clergyman or layman, should have so passionately interpreted remarks made by me in perfect good-humour. I offer him every apology that is due for being misunderstood. In order to avoid any such contingency again, I have omitted his name, and have substituted "Your Correspondent."

I may also add, that when I sent my letters to _The Times_ I had not the remotest idea of composing a book on the subject. Having other and absorbing work to attend to, I have been able to devote spare hours only to a very pleasant work, undertaken at the request of many, and dedicated to the service of all.

CONTENTS

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PAGE

Introduction 1

Bee-keeping Money-making 3

Bee-keeping a source of Enjoyment 6

How to begin Bee-keeping 10

The Bee-house, and how to place it 21

Hives and Bee-boxes 35

How to get Bees 59

The Inmates of the Hive 87

Bee Enemies 104

The Bee-master's Letters to "The Times" 116

Bee Things in general 169

Letters from Correspondents 200

* * * * *

Erratum.--Page 45, line 18--For "inches" _read_ "degrees."
[Transcriber's Note: This WAS corrected!]

BEE-KEEPING.

BY

"THE TIMES" BEE-MASTER.

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This work is not a speculative or philosophical treatise on bees. Its main interest consists in its usefulness; and its author's greatest reward will be the greatest measure of his success in promoting among cottagers and others a means of paying their rent, at once interesting, civilising, and remunerative. Next to this, I hope I may contribute toward the extinction of the savage and unprofitable, but almost universal, habit in this country of burning the bees with sulphur in August, in order to collect honey richly flavoured, and much deteriorated by sulphurous acid. It is a fundamental principle in my bee-management, that no bee shall be burned, or, if possible to avoid it, crushed or killed. No man deserves the name of a Bee-master, or should attempt to keep bees, who has not resolved, with all his might, to avoid bee-murder. Bee-cide, like homicide, may accidentally occur, but it must be accidental, not designed and culpable. That system of management which combines the safety and health of the bees, with the production of the largest amount of pure honey available to the proprietor, while providing generously for the inmates of the hive during the winter months, deserves the greatest patronage.

I.-BEE-KEEPING MONEY-MAKING.

We live in a practical age. Proposals of all sorts are too often, right or wrong, weighed against gold:--"How much will it bring? Can I turn a penny by this business?" I do not pretend to say bee-masters are rich men, or that the way to a fortune is through a bee-hive; but I do assert that a poor parish minister, vicar, or curate with a little glebe--a cottager who works all day for the squire--or maiden ladies who desire to engage in very delightful and loving labour--may add to their little income or stipend or dividend from ten to twenty pounds a year. To half-pay officers I would earnestly recommend bee-keeping. It would keep them out of those wild speculations into which, from their inexperience in business matters, they are so frequently and ruinously drawn, by giving them an interest, which would soon become a passion, in studying and conferring with a new family, besides yielding them a few spare sovereigns for personal use or charity. For white cells filled with honey in glasses--than which nothing more elegant or picturesque can be placed on a breakfast-table--one can obtain in June two shillings, and even two shillings and sixpence, a pound. For honey later in the season one and sixpence a pound may be easily had; and where the proprietor prefers to be his own consumer, he may dispense with bacon and butter, and take what is far more wholesome--honey--at breakfast. It is a fair average to calculate on fifteen pounds of surplus produce from each hive, if properly attended to. I do not see why our country should not be a "land flowing with milk and honey," or why we should import so much honey and wax from abroad, exporting good money in return, when so many flowers lift their beautiful blossoms, waiting and longing to be kissed and rifled by visitors they love so well. It should not be forgotten, too, that bees do immense good to flowers; some think they introduce one to another, and celebrate the marriage of the flowers. This, however, is certain: flower-gardens are immensely benefited by bees, and therefore every lover of flowers and proprietor of gardens should never drive away or destroy a bee; for the visitor is not only collecting honey for his bee-master, but adding to the variety, fragrance, and beauty of the flowers of their owner.

II.--BEE-KEEPING A SOURCE OF ENJOYMENT.

When pleasure and profit can be combined, time runs swiftly and the heart feels happy.

It is enjoyment to stand by one's bee-hives and watch the intense and untiring work of one's bees. It is like standing at a window in Cheapside, and watching the counter-currents of human beings that ceaselessly traverse its pavement; only, instead of faces grooved with cares and pale with anxieties, we do not see issuing from their hives or returning home a single bee that seems bowed down with trouble or fretful about the future. Each bee, from the queen down to the sentinel at the gate, seems to have heard the Master's words,--"Take no thought" (_i.e._, irritating care) "for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

Bees rarely fail to become acquainted with a kind and affectionate master. I have stood in the midst of thousands returning home after their day's work, and seen them resting on me, brushing their wings and bodies, and, thereby refreshed and recruited, they enter their home and deposit their sweet burdens. They do not forget little acts of kindness shown them, and rarely fail to show gratitude,--an example Christians would do well to copy. I have sat for hours by my hives with glass windows, and watched the orderly and beautiful array in which some give wax, others build it into forms of strength and beauty, others clear away incidental dirt, others pour honey into the warehouses, others carry out their dead, and all reverently and loyally attend to the instructions of their queen. Relays of ventilators, joining the tips of their wings and making fanners, take up their position at the doors, and send in currents of fresh air. Others are placed as sentries on the bee-board, who, like faithful soldiers, repel wasps and moths, and die rather than desert the post of duty. There is not an idle bee in a hive, if one may except the drones after their mission is ended. _Fruges consumere nati_; they meet with the consequences which all idle and unproductive citizens provoke. They, however, may be regarded as the exceptional inmates. The bees do not fail to understand their relations, and therefore they get rid of them as soon as they cease to contribute to the wealth or comfort or protection of the hive. They become in June and July the mere hangers-on--the fat, lazy monks, who believe that everybody is made to work for them, while they are excused helping anybody. But the bountiful Creator has left no place for indolence in this world of ours; it would be too disastrous an example to be permitted with impunity. The bees accordingly turn them out to starve, or garrote them as they catch them, and at all risk get rid of the incumbrance. Do idle young men deserve better treatment?

A hive in June is a perfect study, a model of order, work, neatness, and beauty; it is rich in interest to everyone who has an hour to spare. About nine o'clock at night you cannot do better than listen for a quarter of an hour by your hives, and you will hear an oratorio sweeter and richer than you ever heard in Exeter Hall. Treble, tenor, and bass are blended in richest harmony; sometimes it sounds as the distant hum of a great city, and at other times as if the apiarian choristers were attempting the hallelujahs which will swell from earth to heaven when all things are put right, and bee and bird and every living thing sing joyously together the jubilant anthem peal, "Great and marvellous are thy works. Lord God Almighty. Just and true are thy ways, thou King of nations."

III.--HOW TO BEGIN BEE-KEEPING.

Your garden may be very small, and its flowers few and far between; but as your bee-pasture is an area two or three miles round on all sides yours for the use of your bees, though entered in other peoples' title-deeds, your own little plot need not much trouble you. Bees seem to prefer to feed at a little distance from the hive, but have no objection to pasture close at hand. In the beginning of August, when the honey-yielding flowers begin to fail, I have found Broadwater Common, near Tunbridge Wells, which grows the finest heather south of Braemar, covered with my bees, and have lain down amid the heath-blossoms, watching and listening to my young friends, immensely enjoying their work.

But if you have any spare space--and there are always nooks and spots available in the smallest garden--sow on these lemon-thyme in abundance, rosemary, lavender, salvia, borage, mignonette, and crocus. Apple-trees, gooseberry and currant-trees, and above all, raspberry-plants, are great favourites with bees; and as their blossoms come early in spring, they are most seasonable and productive. But your chief reliance must be on neighbouring acres of bean-fields and buckwheat or clover meadows, heather and furze, and hedge-blossoms. Lime-trees are very valuable; I wish people would allow thorn-hedges to blossom. Let me urge the cottager to use for the edging of his garden lemon-thyme instead of box or daisies. Do not fear keeping a dozen stocks. I think many apiarians talk nonsense when they allege that a district may be overstocked with bee-hives. If the surrounding country be wholly arable, with little common, and with too good farming, it may be overstocked. But there are still left commons unenclosed, woods and heath, and clover and tiny weeds, which farmers persecute and bee-masters love; and far off are gardens of all sorts and sizes, in which flowers are cultivated for the owners' pleasure, constituting admirable bee-pasture. I only regret there is such a wide-spread rage for double flowers, for bees never touch them. On that magnificent standard rose, so rich in delicious perfume and so very lovely, a bee never alights; but the briar and hedge-rose are favourites and much frequented. On the Clyde, it is usual for bee-proprietors to carry their hives to Arran, Dunoon, and Kilmun, as soon as the heather comes into blossom; and cottagers take charge of them at a shilling apiece. The hives often therefrom receive great and remunerative additions.

Dr. Bevan states:--

"In Lower Egypt, where the flower-harvest is not so early by several
weeks as in the upper districts of that country, this practice of
transportation is carried on to a considerable extent. About the
end of October the hives, after being collected together from the
different villages, and conveyed up the Nile, marked and numbered by
the individuals to whom they belong, are heaped pyramidally upon the
boats prepared to receive them, which, floating gradually down the
river, and stopping at certain stages of their passage, remain there a
longer or a shorter time, according to the produce which is afforded
by the surrounding country. After travelling three months in this
manner, the bees, having culled the perfumes of the orange flowers of
the Said, the essence of roses of the Faiocum, the treasures of the
Arabian jessamine, and a variety of flowers, are brought back about
the beginning of February to the places from which they have been
carried. The productiveness of the flowers at each respective stage
is ascertained by the gradual descent of the boats in the water, and
which is probably noted by a scale of measurement. This industry
procures for the Egyptians delicious honey and abundance of bees'-wax.
The proprietors, in return, pay the boatmen a recompense proportioned
to the number of hives which have thus been carried about from one
extremity of Egypt to the other."

Richardson sensibly remarks:--

"Water carriage, when procurable, is the best, as it shakes the hives
least, but when land carriage must be resorted to, the hives should
be carried on poles slung on men's shoulders. The journey should be
pursued at night only, and the bees suffered to go forth and feed
during the day. Such is their instinct, that they will readily find
their way back; but they should not be suffered to go forth until at
the distance of upwards of ten or eleven miles from their original
home, otherwise they will be lost in endeavouring to regain it--a
moderate distance induces them to abandon the idea, and to become
reconciled to their new quarters. If travelling by canal, the hives
should be removed from the boat, and placed on stands at some distance
from the bank, ere the insects are let out, otherwise they will be
lost in thousands by falling into the water on their return. The
charge made by shepherds for taking care of the hives during a season
is from one shilling to eighteen-pence each. It is better to pay a
trifle over and above the usual fee, in order to prevent your hives
being placed too near to each other, or to those of other parties;
for if your weak stocks happen to be placed near the strong ones of
some one else, you will stand a fair chance of having them all killed
in encounters with their more powerful neighbours. It would be well
also to see that your hives are placed in a situation where they will
be safe from the attacks of cattle or other foes. Before fetching the
hives home again from the heath, it will not be amiss to ascertain
their condition and weight, and to take from them what honey they can
spare. I must here inform you how to ascertain the state or wealth of
a hive."

On the subject of removing bees to the heather in August, Mr. Briggs makes the following useful and practical remarks:--

"In the vicinity of extensive heaths, the bees are removed to them
about the beginning or middle of August, according to the season. The
usual practice is to raise each hive with small wedges in the evening,
to induce the bees to congregate together at the top of the hive.
The hives are then firmly fixed to the bottom boards, or tied up in
cloths, and conveyed in the night, or very early in the morning, to
the garden of a shepherd or other person whose residence adjoins the
heath. All hives and swarms are taken, including old and young ones,
and the persons who receive them usually charge a shilling for each
hive during the season. The hives are thus very frequently crammed
together as close as they can stand, and the consequences are that
much fighting and loss of life is often caused, and the weak stocks of
one person are frequently partly destroyed and robbed of their stores
and killed by the stronger ones belonging to other persons. When
the blooming of the heath is over, the old stocks are, in general,
suffocated on the spot, to obtain possession of the fruits of their
labours, and those intended for winter stocks are conveyed home by
their respective owners.

"The above system of managing bees at the heather is susceptible
of material alterations and improvements. I would suggest that it
would be of great advantage to the owners of bees residing within
twenty miles' distance, if the proprietors or occupiers of residences
adjoining the heath were to extend the accommodation by enclosing a
larger extent of ground which is suitable for the purposes desired. It
might be cheaply and expeditiously performed by hiring a few dozen of
stout stakes, &c., from the neighbouring farmers for the season, and
having the bars of them full of coarse thorns, briars, furze, or other
convenient or suitable materials, to prevent the inroads of cattle and
other depredators.

"I would recommend that none but strong stocks be taken to the heath,
until arrangements are made for their convenience and accommodation;
and that the collateral system of side hives, &c., be practised with
them whilst they are at the heath, as well as on other occasions."

Where there is no water conveyance, a hive may be suspended from each end of a long pole, which may be carried on the shoulder to the neighbourhood of a common, in August, not less than four miles from your garden, and put in charge of a reliable cottager.

"In Yorkshire," says the Rev. Mr. Cotton, that prince of bee-masters,
"it is the regular custom of the country to send the stocks to the
moors for change of pasture in August and September. Cotters, who have
a little garden by the moorside, take in dozens every year, and get a
shilling a stock for their trouble. The trouble is a mere nothing--at
least not one shilling's worth in all--and the pleasure is surely very
great; for what can be a greater pleasure than to have ten additional
stocks of bees on a visit to your own, and to cheer you with their
glad music whenever you are walking in your garden? To say nothing of
the pleasure you must feel at their honied stores, by playing the
part of a kind host to these busy bees; and then, what is more, you
may have the still greater pleasure of showing your friend (for all
bee-masters are, or ought to be, friendly) how to take up his bees
who have been your guests so long, as I trust you do your own, that
is, without killing them. You and he may do so, if you try; and I, a
bee-master like yourself, beg you most earnestly to try. What I have
found a very good way with my bees you cannot find a very bad one. The
stocks are taken up in the old way as soon as the heather goes out of
flower. I hope many a man will learn by my letter to take them up by
the fingers, instead of the sulphur match, that ready instrument of
bee-murder. In France they put their hives into a boat, some hundreds
together, which floats down the stream by night, and stops by day. The
bees go out in the morning, return in the evening, and when they are
all back and quiet, on the boat floats. I have heard they come home
to the ringing of a bell; but I believe they would come home just the
same whether the bell rings or no. I should like to see this tried on
the Thames, for no river has more bee food near its banks: willows,
the best bee food in spring; meadows, clover, beans, and lime-trees,
in different places and times, for summer. A handy man, who could
make his own boxes, though not up to hard work, might, I am pretty
sure, gather _through the mouths of his many thousand bees enough to
fill his own one mouth_, though it be somewhat larger. He might float
softly _down_ the river, as the flowers go off at one place and come
on at another; and any bargeman would be glad, for the small price of
one pound of Thames honey, to give him a tow _up_ when he wishes to go
back. I should like to see it tried."

But all this is supererogatory at present, and temporary removals are undesirable, unless where surrounding pastures entirely fail in August. It is, at best, supplemental.

Taylor, in his useful _Bee Manual_, says:--

"It is almost needless to say, that in the nature and extent of
the vegetable production following in succession in the immediate
neighbourhood of an apiary, must mainly depend its prosperity. After
every care has been bestowed on all points of housing and management,
it is in vain to expect a large harvest of honey where Nature has
limited the sources of supply, or restricted them to a particular
season of the year."

Payne observes:--

"I have always found the advantage of planting in the vicinity of
my hives a large quantity of the common kinds of crocus, single blue
hepatica, helleborus niger, and tussilago petasites, all of which
flower early, and are rich in honey and farina. Salvia memorosa (of
Sir James Smith), which flowers very early in June, and lasts all the
summer, is in an extraordinary manner sought after by the bees, and,
when room is not an object, twenty or thirty square yards of it may
be grown with advantage. Origanum humile, and origanum rubescens (of
Haworth), and mignonette may also be grown. Cúscuta sinensis is a
great favourite with them; and the pretty little plant anacampseros
populifolium, when in flower, is literally covered by them. Garden
cultivation beyond this, exclusively for bees, I believe, answers very
little purpose."

IV.--THE BEE-HOUSE, AND HOW TO PLACE IT.

Having decided on the furniture of the garden and the flowers it should grow, and the best kind of neighbourhood for pasture, we must now discuss (and it is done from very considerable experience) the structure and aspect of the bee-house under shelter of which your hives are to stand. Taylor remarks:--

"The common wooden bee-houses, as usually constructed, open in
front, and closed altogether behind, retaining the sun's heat as an
oven, are objectionable. These are frequently the receptacles of
dirt and vermin, and most inconvenient to operate in. It would be an
improvement to make them deeper backwards; or with a falling front,
moving on hinges, so that the hives can be recessed behind it, away
from the influence of weather. At the back should be folding doors,
opening from top to bottom, allowing a good access to the hives. For
greater convenience, it is best to have them only in a single row,
with good head room. But a still more desirable plan is to board up
the front of the house entirely, making oblong openings through for
a passage to the bees, with an exterior alighting-board, a good deal
slanted downwards (the bees preferring this to a flat surface). The
hives are arranged immediately behind, upon a shelf, the further apart
the better, as the bees occasionally mistake their own homes, and fall
a sacrifice in consequence."

The following is a sketch of the shed proposed by Dr. Bevan. It is extremely picturesque. My only objection to it is his use of thatch, which shelters vermin--the pests it is hard to keep away in the most favourable circumstances. Dr. Bevan's shed or bee-house is seven feet square in the clear, with three hives on the upper shelves and three on the under.

A very picturesque and efficient bee-shed is presented by Dr. Lardner, about twelve feet long and about nine feet high.

My objection to this bee-house is, that the hives are exposed too much to wind and weather; if of straw, they will soon rot--if of wood, wet and sunshine will rend and split them. Besides, tier above tier is not good, and it need not be adopted.

The shed I prefer is as follows:--Let it be twelve feet six inches in length, six feet in height, and two feet six inches in depth. Let it be made of good, strong, smooth deal. Divide it into six equal compartments, divided off from each other. Let the roof be also of smooth deal, covered first with Croggon's patent felt; and laid over the felt, and nailed down, let there be zinc plates, projecting six or eight inches in front. Let an opening three inches wide extend along the front from end to end, with a continuous landing-board projecting beneath it, and sloping down at an angle of twenty-five degrees. The floor should be about a foot or eighteen inches above the level of the ground, and perfectly smooth. Behind let there be three doors, with hinges attached to the floor, falling back when open, and thereby forming a pleasant platform, when laid down and resting on the ground, for the bee-master to watch and study, and deprive, and otherwise fulfil his mission. When closed, there must be a good padlock, as bee-hive lifters are still too common in every part of the country. In very hot weather, open the doors behind, but only in very hot weather. I have found from experience that the smoother the surfaces of the bee-shed inside, the less they are liable to the operations of the spider, one of the greatest pests of bee-houses. I have unfortunately, and too often, seen a dozen bees entangled of a fine May morning in a spider's web, and most of them excavated in the cleanest manner. Wasps and spiders I have no mercy on; they are thieves and murderers and beasts of prey, as well as vermin. To the former, extermination by brimstone is a just recompense, and to the latter the application of a hard dry brush is a daily duty.

I prefer three of these bee-sheds, located in different parts of my garden, to one very large shed with under and upper tiers of hives: this makes less likelihood of confusion in swarming. I do not like the sheds to be placed under large trees, the drippings of which tend to create damp. Shrubs, raspberry-plants, and even gooseberry-bushes, not nearer than ten or twelve feet, form nice resting-places to the heavy-laden bees. Under and immediately around the hive should be closely-mowed grass. The front of the hive is best due south, and, if convenient, with an inclination to the east. From the east and west a rising ground, or shrubs tolerably high, are a desirable protection; they break the force of the gales. Do not place your bee-shed at a great distance from the house: bees are civilised and domestic, and delight to see children at play while they are at their work; kept out of society, they grow savage. Having selected the position, do not change it, unless imperatively and unavoidably necessary. Gelieu justly observes:--

"I have seen people shift about their hives very inconsiderately;
but change of place invariably weakens them, as the bees will return
to their old residence, the environs of which are so familiar to
them. A hive should remain as fixed to the spot as the ancient oaks,
in the hollows of which they delight to establish themselves; where
they have their young, their companions, their beloved queen, and
all their treasures. When the young bees take wing for the first
time, they do it with great precaution, turning round and round, and
fluttering about the entrance, to examine the hive well before taking
flight. They do the same in returning, so that they may be easily
distinguished, conducting themselves nearly after the same manner
as the workers of a newly-hived swarm. When they have made a few
excursions, they set off without examining the locality; and returning
in full flight, will know their own hive in the midst of a hundred
others. But if you change its place you perplex them, much the same as
you would be if, during a short absence, some one lifted your house
and placed it a mile off. The poor bees return loaded, and, seeking in
vain for their habitation, either fall down and perish with fatigue,
or throw themselves into the neighbouring hives, where they are
speedily put to death. When hives are transported to a considerable
distance, there is no fear that the bees will return. But this
inconvenience would be sure to take place if they were removed only a
few hundred paces from the spot they have been accustomed to. The hive
may not perish, but it will be greatly weakened. In my opinion, if the
situation is to be changed at all, they should be taken at least a
mile and a half."

Richardson, who has offered many sensible suggestions on bee-culture, makes some very sensible remarks on this. But I do not agree with him in one of his opinions--that a south-westerly aspect is best, or that a south-eastern aspect is likely to be prejudicial, from its tempting the bees to go out in too cold spring mornings. The early sun in early spring is not excessively seductive. Besides, bees are very good judges of temperature, as they are infallible prophets of weather, and may be safely left in this matter to the exercise of their own good sense. It is also worthy of notice, that the main work of bees is over by four o'clock in the afternoon, and the setting sun is therefore less important. They are early risers, and go early to bed. But his remaining observations on bee-sheds are thoroughly good:--

"Some recommend high trees for the purpose of keeping the air calm,
lest the bees should be blown down when returning home. High trees
are not advisable; they form an evil themselves of greater magnitude
than that which they may be designed to remove. Bees are seldom blown
to the ground by mere wind; but even when they are, they can, in a
great majority of cases, recover themselves. Whereas, if blown amongst
trees, they will be sure to be whipped so violently by the branches,
that they are absolutely hurled to the ground with such force as to
render their recovery hopeless. The bees also fly low on their return,
when they arrive at the immediate neighbourhood of their stand, and,
consequently, high trees would be not only useless, but absolutely
inconvenient. Whatever trees you wish, therefore, to plant in the
immediate vicinity of the hive should be of low size, planted at the
sides of the hive, so as to leave the entrance quite free. Wildman
recommends them, and, I think, very judiciously, to be 'of the dwarf
kind, with bushy heads, in order that the swarms which settle on them
may be more easily hived.' Now, although by judicious management
swarming will generally be prevented from taking place, yet, despite
of our utmost care, it may accidentally occur; or the bees may quit
their boxes in a body, from various causes--some of which I shall
endeavour hereafter to explain--and, under such circumstances, Mr.
Wildman's suggestions will be found valuable. The garden, therefore,
in which you fix your stands should be thus planted; and I further,
for the same reasons, recommend wall fruit trees and espaliers.

"Avoid a site near mills or other noisy places, or the neighbourhood
of bad smells, as factories and the like; and if, as occasionally may
happen, your stand be placed against your garden wall, behind which
is the farm-yard, let not a dunghill be built against the opposite
side. I have witnessed this before now, and in one instance found the
consequence to be a desertion of the boxes. Do not place your stand
where you see rat or mouse holes, and let your shed be all of wood,
never thatched with straw, as that substance harbours mice, moths, and
other similar enemies to your stock.

"Water is essential to the well-being of your bees; it must, however,
be presented to them judiciously, or it will prove a greater evil than
a good. If you can coax a shallow rippling brook through your garden,
so much the better; if not, place near the stand small, shallow,
earthen pans of water, and put some pebbles in them. This water must
be changed daily. It is highly objectionable to have a pond or canal
in your neighbourhood: you will lose thousands of your bees through
their means every season, as they will be constantly blown into them
when returning heavily laden to the hive, especially in the evening,
when wearied after the toil of an industriously spent day. The pebbles
in the troughs are for the bees to rest on while drinking, and are the
recommendation of Columella. I have seen tin plates perforated with
holes, and placed over the pans just on the surface of the water, used
for drinking-vessels for bees; I, however, prefer the pebbles."

I have found it a very good plan to place two or three soup-plates filled with pure water mixed largely with round pebbles in front of the bee-house; they thus find water to drink and stepping-stones for their tiny feet, which keep their wings out of water. In long-continued dry and hot summers, I have also been in the habit of using a common garden-squirt, with the end perforated by a dozen pin-holes. The water thus showered on the bee-house at noon cools it, and does not strike down the bees, and seems most acceptable to them all.

The shed should be kept scrupulously clean and dry. Earwigs, snails, and spiders will all try hard to establish their quarters under the warmth of the hives, and must be repelled. Nothing but the bee-master's frequent but quiet and undemonstrative use of a good hard painter's brush, perfectly dry, will keep these pests at a distance. I am no advocate of killing a single living thing, but if these unproductive creatures will prey on the most productive of insects, and kill and steal, there is no help for it. The bee-master must keep his bee-sheds particularly clean; and as spiders and earwigs love dust and dirt, and are inseparable from it, they must go with it. At all events, I cannot give them hospitality in my bee-house.

For people to whom expense is no object, the bee-houses of Messrs. Neighbour are perfect--as ornamental as they are efficient.

Their two-hive shed is as follows:--

Front view of bee-house, price £3 10_s._, _well painted_, constructed to contain two hives. 3 ft. 6 in. high, 4 ft wide.]

The back view is given on the following page.

I have already said, what I repeat, that I do not think one row of hives above another in the same bee-shed at all expedient.

V.--HIVES AND BEE-BOXES.

The inveterate use of the common straw hive, with its fire and sulphur application in autumn to its unhappy inmates, is deeply to be deplored. No humane man can look on the straw hive, rotting on a stand, wasted and worn by wind and rain, covered with a brown earthenware basin, under which vermin breed and multiply, and doomed to brimstone and bee-cide, without feeling it is a penal settlement, or cell of doom, for subjects unworthy of it. There is nothing picturesque or pleasant about it, and the moss of age and usage even of a thousand years fail to beautify it.

A bee-shed is an absolute necessity; it may be rough and coarse, and badly put together, but it cannot and must not be dispensed with. I will assume, in the first instance, that the cheapness of a common straw hive--a rough one costing sixpence, a better a shilling, and a very excellent one eighteen-pence--brings it within the reach of a very poor cottager. On this assumption I proceed to show how he can make the best of a bad house. Placed in his shed with a good swarm in May, it is likely in a good year to be full by the end of June. He must then have ready a good thick board--say three-quarters of an inch or an inch in thickness and twelve inches square, with a round hole in the centre about three inches diameter, perfectly smooth and bevelled in the lower edge of the hole. On this he must have ready a small straw hive with a piece of glass, four inches by three, fastened into the side, in order to see inside; but if he can afford it, still better, a bell-glass or garden-glass, with a woollen nightcap drawn over it, to keep out the light and keep in the warmth. Let this stand ready by him behind the bee-house, about twelve o'clock at noon. He must then take a sharp table-knife, and quietly and fearlessly cut a hole in the top of the hive, about three inches in diameter, and having removed the top by taking hold of its straw loop, he is to place the board with its super over his hive. The smoother he makes the cutting the less trouble will the bees have, and the sooner they will ascend. If the weather still proves friendly, he may have five or six pounds of beautiful honey before the middle of August, and there will be abundance for his bees in the stock hive during winter. The way to remove the super is this:--Get a zinc plate, with sharp edges, some fourteen inches square, press it quietly between the super and the board, laying the left hand on the super and pressing with the right, taking care not to disturb the board on the hive, which the bees will have fastened down. Carry off the super with its bees and honey, laying another board over the hole. Place your super, with the zinc plate below it, at fifty or a hundred yards' distance from your bee-shed; edge up the super about two inches from the plate after it has stood still an hour. The bees will fly out in succession and make their way straight home, and not one will turn on you to sting you. It seems then and there, and in so new circumstances, to dawn on their minds for various reasons, that their proprietor is merely taking his portion in consideration of the care he has bestowed; or, like a mob without a head, they lose all sense of order, self-possession, and organisation, but, unlike a Belfast mob, they rush home out of harm's way.

From Mr. Pettitt's catalogue--a very sensible one--I take the following models and prices of bell-glasses for supers.

Neighbour's are still better.

I prefer Taylor's glasses to either.

But supposing you can afford to buy a straw hive with a hole already worked at the top--and it will not cost above a shilling more--you are to place the board with a corresponding hole on the top of this, and, till the middle of June, a small board over, or bung in the hole of the board. Then take it out as before, and place over it your bell-glass or small straw hive, and act thenceforth as already described.