Chapter V: Part 5

"But of all the varieties of this insect, that of which the
architectural and mechanical skill is transcendently the most
admirable is the bee-hive. The most profound philosopher, says
Kirby, equally with the most incurious of mortals, is filled with
astonishment at the view of the interior of a bee-hive. He beholds
there a miniature city. He sees regular streets, disposed in parallel
directions, and consisting of houses constructed upon the most exact
geometrical principles, and of the most symmetrical forms. These
buildings are appropriated to various purposes. Some are warehouses
in which provisions are stored in enormous quantities; some are
the dwellings of the citizens; and a few of the most spacious and
magnificent are royal palaces. He finds that the material of which
this city is built is one which man with all his skill and science
cannot fabricate, and that the edifices which it is employed to form
are such that the most consummate engineer could not reproduce, much
less originate; and yet this wondrous production of art and skill
is the result of the labour of a society of insects so minute, that
hundreds of thousands of them do not contain as much ponderable matter
as would enter into the composition of the body of a man. _Quel abime
aux yeux du sage qu'une ruche d'abeilles! Quelle sagesse profonde
se cache dans cet abime! Quel philosophe osera le sonder!_ Nor has
the problem thus solved by the bee yet been satisfactorily expounded
by philosophers. Its mysteries have not yet been fathomed. In all
ages naturalists and mathematicians have been engrossed by it, from
Aristomachus of Soli and Philiscus the Thracian, already mentioned, to
Swammerdam, Reaumur, Hunter, and Huber of modern times. Nevertheless,
the honey-comb is still a miracle which overwhelms our faculties."

Kirby writes:--

"Besides the saving of wax effected by the form of the cells, the bees
adopt another economical plan suited to the same end. They compose the
bottoms and sides of wax of very great tenuity, not thicker than a
sheet of writing-paper; but as walls of this thickness at the entrance
would be perpetually injured by the ingress and egress of the workers,
they prudently make the margin at the opening of each cell three
or four times thicker than the walls. Dr. Barclay discovered, that
though of such excessive tenuity, the sides and bottom of each cell
are actually double, or in other words, that each cell is distinct,
separate, and in some measure an independent structure, agglutinated
only to the neighbouring cells; and that when the agglutinating
substance is destroyed, each cell may be entirely separated from the
rest. This, however, has been denied by Mr. Waterhouse, and seems
inconsistent with the account given by Huber, hereafter detailed; but
Mr. G. Newport asserts, that even the virgin-cells are lined with a
delicate membrane."

Dr. Bevan relates of Mr. Knight, an acute and accurate apiarian:--

"On one occasion he observed from twenty to thirty bees paying daily
visits to some decayed trees, about a mile distant from his garden;
the bees appeared to be busily employed in examining the hollow parts,
and particularly the dead knots around them, as if apprehensive of
the knots admitting moisture. In about fourteen days these seeming
surveyors were followed by a large swarm from his apiary, which was
watched the whole way, till it alighted in one of these cavities. It
was observed to journey nearly in a direct line from the apiary to the
tree. On several similar occasions the bees selected that cavity which
Mr. Knight thought best adapted to their use."

"Insects give proofs without number of the possession of the faculty
of memory, without which it would be impossible to turn to account the
results of experience. Thus, for example, each bee, on returning from
its excursions, never fails to recognise its own hive, even though
that hive should be surrounded by various others in all respects
similar to it.

"This recognition of home is so much the more marked by traces of
intelligence rather than by those of instinct, inasmuch as it depends
not on any character merely connected with the hive itself, whether
external or internal, but from its relation to surrounding objects;
just as we are guided to our own dwellings by the recollection of
the particular features of the locality and neighbourhood. Nor is
this faculty in the bee inferred from mere analogies; it has been
established by direct experiment and observation. A hive being removed
from a locality to which its inhabitants have become familiar, they
are observed, upon the next day, before leaving for their usual
labours, to fly around the hive in every direction, as if to observe
the surrounding objects, and obtain a general acquaintance with their
new neighbourhood.

"The queen in like manner adopts the same precaution before she rises
into the air, attended by her numerous admirers, for the purpose of
fecundation."--_Lardner_.

"The attention," says Lord Brougham,[B] "which has been paid at
various times to the structure and habits of the bee, is one of
the most remarkable circumstances in the history of science. The
ancients studied it with unusual minuteness, although being, generally
speaking, indifferent observers of fact, they made but little progress
in discovering the singular economy of this insect Of the observations
of Aristomachus, who spent sixty years, it is said, in studying the
subject, we know nothing; nor of those which were made by Philissus,
who passed his life in the woods, for the purpose of examining this
insect's habits; but Pliny informs us that both of them wrote works
upon it. Aristotle's three chapters on bees and wasps[C] contain
little more than the ordinary observations, mixed up with an unusual
portion of vulgar and even gross errors. How much he attended to
the subject is, however, manifest from the extent of the first of
these chapters, which is of great length. Some mathematical writers,
particularly Pappus, studied the form of the cells, and established
one or two of the fundamental propositions respecting the economy
of labour and wax resulting from the plan of the structure. The
application of modern naturalists to the inquiry is to be dated from
the beginning of the eighteenth century, when Maraldi examined it
with his accustomed care; and Reaumur afterwards, as we have seen,
carried his investigations much farther. The interest of the subject
seemed to increase with the progress made in their inquiries; and
about the year 1765 a society was formed at Little Bautzen in Upper
Lusatia, whose sole object was the study of bees. It was formed under
the patronage of the Elector of Saxony. The celebrated Schirach was
one of its original members; and soon after its establishment he
made his famous discovery of the power which the bees have to supply
the loss of their queen, by forming a large cell out of three common
ones, and feeding the grub of a worker upon royal jelly; a discovery
so startling to naturalists, that Bonnet, in 1769, earnestly urged
the society not to lower its credit by countenancing such a wild
error, which he regarded as repugnant to all we know of the habits of
insects; admitting, however, that he should not be so incredulous of
any observations tending to prove the propagation of the race of the
queen-bee without any co-operation of a male,[D] a notion since shown
by Huber to be wholly chimerical. In 1771 a second institution, with
the same limited object, was founded at Lauter, under the Elector
Palatine's patronage, and of this Riem, scarcely less known in this
branch of science than Schirach, was a member.

[Footnote B: Vol. i. pp. 333-36.]

[Footnote C: Hist. An., lib. ix., cap. 40, 41, 42.]

[Footnote D: Œuvres x., 101, 104.]

"The greatest progress, however, was afterwards made by Huber, whose
discoveries, especially of the queen-bee's mode of impregnation,
the slaughter of the drones or males, and the mode of working, have
justly gained him a very high place among naturalists. Nor are his
discoveries of the secretion of wax from saccharine matter, the
nature of propolis, and the preparation of wax for building, to be
reckoned less important. To these truths the way had been led by John
Hunter, whose vigorous and original genius never was directed to the
cultivation of any subject without reaping a harvest of discovery."

Bee Industry.

"The industry of the bee may be estimated by the average number of
its daily excursions from the hive to collect provisions. According
to Reaumur, if the total number of excursions be divided by the total
number of bees in a hive, the average number daily made by each bee
would be from five to six. But as one-half of the bees are occupied
exclusively with the domestic business of the society, either in
nursing and tending the young, packing and storing the provisions,
or constructing the combs, the total number of excursions must be
divided, not between the whole, but between only half the total
number of bees, which would give ten excursions to each individual of
the collecting class; and if the average length of each excursion
be taken at three-quarters of a mile, this would give the average
distance travelled by each collector as fifteen miles! It is estimated
by Kirby that the quantity of ponderable matter thus transported
exceeds a hundred pounds."

The Rev. Mr. Wood, in his little manual--the most sensible of its size that has yet appeared--writes:--

"No noticeable capital is required to commence; no noticeable amount
of time is necessarily consumed in their management, and they may be
kept almost anywhere, though not with equal profit. One apiarian,
whose authority may be depended upon, gives the profits of eight
stocks only as averaging about 20_l._ in three successive years.
Another, who was regularly engaged from six to six daily in other
avocations, cleared nearly 100_l._ in one year by his bees. The
quantity of honey that may be obtained from a hive is exceedingly
variable, but offering, therefore, only the greater assurance of
due rewards for able management. Fifty or sixty pounds have not
unfrequently been obtained from a single hive in a season, and
occasionally as much as 100 lbs.; whilst from a set of collateral
boxes, 100 lbs. is mentioned; and Cotton states that as much as 210
lbs. have really been stored in a single season, by a single stock
similarly situated in a roomy trebled habitation. The prices of honey
in London are stated to be generally as follows:--

_s._ _d._

Minorca, which is the best per lb. 2 6
Narbonne " 2 0
Pure native honey in the comb " 1 0
Other native honey " 0 8

"But pure native honey in the comb, obtained in glasses, is sought
for the table, and therefore often sells for double the price
above-mentioned. We shall only add, that Mr. Smart, a well-known
apiarian, considers hundreds of stocks may be kept where only tens are
now to be found, so far as regards the capabilities of support, the
main point to be considered. To that subject, therefore, we now turn."

A rather exaggerated account of the excellence of honey is given by Butler:--

"Honey cutteth and casteth up phlegmatic matter, and therefore
sharpeneth the stomachs of them which by reason thereof have little
appetite; it purgeth those things which hurt the clearness of the
eyes; it nourisheth very much; it breedeth good blood; it stirreth up
and preserveth natural heat, and prolongeth old age; it keepeth all
things uncorrupt which are put into it; and therefore physicians do
temper therewith such medicines as they mean to keep long."

In an article in the _Quarterly Review_ it is stated:--

"In such esteem was it held, that one of the old Welsh laws ran
thus:--'There are three things in court which must be communicated
to the king before they are made known to any other person:--1st
Every sentence of the Judge. 2nd. Every new song. 3rd. Every cask of
Mead.' Queen Bess was so fond of it, that she had some made for her
own especial drinking every year; and Butler, who draws a distinction
between Mead and Metheglin, making Hydromel the generic term, gives
a receipt for the latter and better drink, the same used by 'our
renowned Queen Elizabeth of happy memory.'"

A PRAIRIE HUNT.

A bee-hunt in the prairies is thus described by Washington Irving:--

"We had not been long in the camp, when a party set out in quest of a
bee-tree, and being curious to witness the sport, I gladly accepted
an invitation to accompany them. The party was headed by a veteran
bee-hunter, a tall lank fellow in homespun garb, that hung loosely
about his limbs, and a straw hat, shaped not unlike a bee-hive; a
comrade, equally uncouth in garb, and without a hat, straddled along
at his heels, with a long rifle on his shoulder. To these succeeded
half-a-dozen others, some with axes, and some with rifles; for no
one stirs from the camp without fire-arms, so that he may be ready
either for wild deer or wild Indian. After proceeding some distance,
we came to an open glade on the skirts of the forest. Here our leader
halted, and then advanced quietly to a low bush, on the top of which
I perceived a piece of honey-comb. This, I found, was the bait or
lure for the wild bees. Several were humming about it, and diving
into its cells. When they had laden themselves with honey, they would
rise up in the air, and dart off in one straight line, almost with
the velocity of a bullet. The hunters watched attentively the course
they took, and then set off in the same direction, stumbling along
over twisted roots and fallen trees, with their eyes turned up to the
sky. In this way they traced the honey-laden bees to their hive, in
the hollow trunk of a blasted oak, where, after buzzing about for a
moment, they entered a hole about sixty feet from the ground. Two of
the bee-hunters now plied their axes vigorously at the foot of the
tree, to level it with the ground. The mere spectators and amateurs,
in the meantime, drew off to a cautious distance, to be out of the
way of the falling of the tree and the vengeance of its inmates.
The jarring blows of the axe seemed to have no effect in alarming
or agitating this most industrious community. They continued to ply
at their usual occupations--some arriving full-freighted into port,
others sallying forth on new expeditions, like so many merchantmen in
a money-making metropolis, little suspicious of impending bankruptcy
and downfall; even a loud crack, which announced the disrupture of the
trunk, failed to divert their attention from the intense pursuit of
gain: at length down came the tree with a tremendous crash, bursting
open from end to end, and displacing all the hoarded treasures of
the commonwealth. One of the hunters immediately ran up with a wisp
of lighted hay, as a defence against the bees. The latter, however,
made no attack, and sought no revenge; they seemed stupified by the
catastrophe, and, unsuspicious of its cause, remained crawling and
buzzing about the ruins, without offering us any molestation. Every
one of the party now fell to, with spoon and hunting-knife, to scoop
out the flakes of honey-comb with which the hollow trunk was stored.
Some of them were of old date, and a deep brown colour; others were
beautifully white, and the honey in their cells was almost limpid.
Such of the combs as were entire were placed in camp-kettles, to be
conveyed to the encampment; those which had been shivered in the
fall were devoured upon the spot. Every stark bee-hunter was to be
seen with a rich morsel in his hand, dripping about his fingers, and
disappearing as rapidly as a cream-tart before the holiday appetite
of a schoolboy. Nor was it the bee-hunters alone that profited by the
downfall of this industrious community. As if the bees would carry
through the similitude of their hahits with those of laborious and
gainful man, I beheld numbers from rival hives, arriving on eager
wing, to enrich themselves with the ruins of their neighbours. These
busied themselves as eagerly and cheerily as so many wreckers on an
Indiaman that has been driven on shore--plunging into the cells of the
broken honey-combs, banqueting greedily on the spoil, and then winging
their way full-freighted to their homes. As to the poor proprietors
of the ruin, they seemed to have no heart to do anything, not even to
taste the nectar that flowed around them, but crawled backwards and
forwards, in vacant desolation, as I have seen a poor fellow, with his
hands in his pockets, whistling vacantly and despondingly about the
ruins of his house that had been burned. It is difficult to describe
the bewilderment and confusion of the bees of the bankrupt hive who
had been absent at the time of the catastrophe, and who arrived, from
time to time, with full cargoes from abroad. At first they wheeled
about in the air, in the place where the fallen tree had once reared
its head, astonished at finding all a vacuum. At length, as if
comprehending their disaster, they settled down in clusters on a dry
branch of a neighbouring tree, from whence they seemed to contemplate
the prostrate ruin, and to buzz forth doleful lamentations over the
downfall of their republic. It was a scene on which the 'melancholy
Jaques' might have moralised by the hour."--Tour in Prairies, ch. ix.

BEE TEMPERS.

"Bees, however, as we have already observed, are not usually
ill-tempered; and, if not molested, are generally inoffensive. Thorley
relates, that a maid-servant who assisted him in hiving a swarm,
being rather afraid, put a linen cloth as a defence over her head
and shoulders. When the bees were shaken from the tree on which they
had alighted, the queen probably settled upon this cloth, for the
whole swarm covered it, and then getting under it, spread themselves
over her face, neck, and bosom, so that when the cloth was removed,
she was quite a spectacle. She was with great difficulty kept from
running off with all the bees upon her. But at length her master
quieted her fears, and began to search for the queen. He succeeded,
and expected that when he put her into the hive the bees would follow.
He was, however, in the first instance disappointed, for they did not
stir. Upon examining the cluster again, he found a second queen, or
probably the former one, which had flown back to the swarm. Having
seized her, he placed her in the hive, and kept her there. The bees
soon missed her, and crowded into the hive after her, so that, in two
or three minutes, not one remained on the poor frightened girl. After
this escape she became quite a heroine, and would undertake the most
hazardous employment about the hives."--_Lardner_.

BEES IN THEIR CLERICAL CHARACTER.

"But connected with this, another important purpose of nature is
fulfilled, which must not here pass without special notice. The
principle, so fruitful in important social consequences among animals,
that the offspring owes its parentage jointly to two individuals of
different sexes, or, in other words, must always have a father and a
mother, equally prevails in the vegetable kingdom. There also are the
gentlemen and ladies, there also are the loves which unite them, loves
which, as well as those of superior orders of beings, have supplied a
theme for poets. Now, among the many other interesting offices with
which the Author of nature has invested the little creatures which
form the subject of this notice, not the least singular is that of
being the priests who celebrate the nuptials of the flowers. It is the
bee literally which joins the hands and consecrates the union of the
fair virgin lily and the blushing maiden rose with their respective
bridegrooms. The grains of pollen which we have been describing are
these bride and bridegrooms, and are transported on the bee from the
male to the female flower; the happy individuals thus united in the
bands of wedlock being the particular grains which the bee lets fall
from its body on the flower of the opposite sex, as it passes through
its blossom.

"And here we find another circumstance to excite our admiration of
the wise laws of that Providence, which cares for the well-being of
a little flower as much as for that of a great lord of the creation.
If the bee wandered indifferently from flower to flower without
selection, the gentlemen of one species would be mated with the ladies
of another, hybrid breeds would ensue, and the confusion of species
would be the consequence. But the bee, as knowing this, flies from
rose to rose, or from lily to lily, but never from the lily to the
rose, or from the rose to the lily."--_Lardner_.

GENERAL.

A popular acquaintance with the habits of bees is very important. Such an accident as the following, related in the Scotsman newspaper, could scarcely have occurred if the victim had learned a little on this subject:--

"On Thursday, while Dr. Bonthron, of West Linton, Peebleshire, was
being driven along the road leading from Garvald to the railway
station at Dolphinton, he was attacked by a swarm of bees, apparently
newly 'cast-off,' and so severely stung on the face and head as to
be unable to attend to his duties for the present. His face and head
became dreadfully swollen and disfigured an hour or two after the
occurrence, the eyes being firmly closed, and the face and throat
greatly swollen and discoloured, while a considerable amount of fever
has set in from the effects of the poison--in fact, but for the
precautions taken, it is probable that the case would have proved
fatal. The driver of the vehicle was also severely stung on several
parts of the head and neck, and only escaped further mischief by a
timely use of whip and rein. The queen-bee of the caste must have
flown directly on Dr. Bonthron's head, from the instantaneousness
with which he was perfectly covered by the bees: and it is supposed
that the motion of the vehicle must have irritated the insects to
use their stings. Upwards of thirty bee-stings were taken out of Dr.
Bonthron's face, neck, and head."

Had Dr. Bonthron remained perfectly still, the bees would not have been irritated, and they would have discovered there was no room for a swarm of bees in his hat; and if the driver could have distinguished the queen-bee, and quietly removed and laid her on the hedge-side, no catastrophe would have occurred. Bees are perfectly harmless in swarming. But of course any attempt to drive them off from their queen by violence never can be made with impunity.

But in the swarming season it is most expedient that nobody but their bee-master should take any share in hiving a swarm; for so nervous are most people at the presence of ten thousand stings, that they will indiscreetly and ignorantly irritate such members of the young family as may accidentally alight on them.

A far more delightful incident is recorded by Thorley:--

"In or about the year 1717, one of my swarms settling among the
close-twisted branches of some codling-trees, and not to be got into
an hive without more help, my maid-servant, hired into the family
the Michaelmas before, very officiously offered her assistance, so
far as to hold the hive while I dislodged the bees, she being little
apprehensive of what followed.

"Having never been acquainted with bees, and likewise afraid, she put
a linen cloth over her head and shoulders, concluding that would be a
sufficient guard, and secure her from their swords. A few of the bees
fell into the hive; some upon the ground; but the main body of them
upon the cloth which covered her upper garments.

"No sooner had I taken the hive out of her hands, but, in a terrible
fright and surprise, she cried out the bees were got under the
covering, crowding up towards her breast and face, which immediately
put her into a trembling posture. When I perceived the veil was of
no further service, she at last gave me leave to remove it. This
done, a most affecting spectacle presented itself to the view of all
the company, filling me with the deepest distress and concern, as I
thought myself the unhappy instrument of drawing her into so great
and imminent hazard of her life, which now so manifestly lay at stake.

"It is not in my power to tell the confusion and distress of mind I
was in, from the awful apprehensions it raised; and her dread and
terror in such circumstances may reasonably be supposed to be much
more. Every moment she was at the point of retiring with all the bees
about her. Vain thought! to escape by flight. She might have left the
place, indeed, but could not the company, and the remedy would have
been much worse than the disease. Had she enraged them, all resistance
had been vain, and nothing less than her life would have atoned for
the offence. And now to have had that life (in so much jeopardy)
insured, what would I not have given!

"To prevent, therefore, a flight which must have been attended with so
fatal a consequence, I spared not to urge all the arguments I could
think of, and use the most affectionate entreaties, begging her, with
all the earnestness in my power, to stand her ground, and keep her
present posture; in order to which, I gave encouragement to hope, in a
little space, for a full discharge from her disagreeable companions;
on the other hand, assuring her she had no other chance for her life.
I was, through necessity, constantly reasoning with her, or else
beseeching and encouraging her.

"I began to search among them for the queen, now got in a great body
upon her breast, about her neck, and up to her chin. I presently saw
her, and immediately seized her, taking her from the crowd, with some
of the commons in company with her, and put them together into the
hive. Here I watched her for some time, and as I did not observe that
she came out, I conceived an expectation of seeing the whole body
quickly abandon their settlement; but instead of that, I soon observed
them, to my greater sorrow and surprise, gathering closer together
without the least signal for departing. Upon this I immediately
reflected, that either there must be another sovereign, or that the
same was returned. I directly commenced a second search, and in a
short time, with a most agreeable surprise, found a second or the
same; she strove, by entering further into the crowd, to escape me,
which I was fully determined against; and apprehending her without
any further ceremony, or the least apology, I reconducted her, with a
great number of the populace, into the hive. And now the melancholy
scene began to change, and give way to one infinitely more agreeable
and pleasant.

"The bees, presently missing their queen, began to dislodge and repair
to the hive, crowding into it in multitudes, and in the greatest hurry
imaginable. And in the space of two or three minutes the maid had not
a single bee about her, neither had she so much as one sting, a small
number of which would have quickly stopped her breath.

"How inexpressible the pleasure which succeeded her past fear! What
joy appeared in every countenance upon so signal a deliverance! and
what mutual congratulations were heard! I never call to mind the
wonderful escape without a secret and very sensible pleasure. I hope
never to see such another sight, though I triumph in this most noble
and glorious victory."

LETTERS FROM CORRESPONDENTS,

ADDRESSED TO

"THE TIMES" BEE-MASTER.

----<>----

I have selected a few of the countless letters addressed to me by those who read my letters in _The Times_, and I have appended such replies as seemed to me expedient. I have not printed several anonymous and very acrimonious letters. One writer of two anonymous letters says, his connection with the press is very great, and that in the _Saturday Review_ and other periodicals he will write "scorching critiques;" that he will warn the publishers that they will earn a loss; and that he will influence _The Times_ to receive no more communications. One letter has the post-mark "Ampthill;" but I suppose its real date ought to be Colney Hatch or Hanwell.

I cannot otherwise explain the extraordinary language.

But I am able to add, that the letters of the Bee-master in _The Times_ have done good service; and I hope this little work will survive these threats of one or two irritable hornets.

I once thought quarrels and angry controversies were confined to ecclesiastical denominations--churches and chapels. But I have learned what I did not expect, that not a few apiarians so devoutly believe each his own patent hive to be the only way to a honey harvest, that if you do not notice it, you are denounced as ignorant of the progress of science, and if you disapprove of it, you must know nothing about bees.

I hope they will all improve in temper as they advance in experience, and agree to differ while they cease to quarrel. I have made up my mind on two or three subjects, from thought and reading, and personal observation; and though open to argument, evidence, and facts, I am not in the least to be moved by intemperate criticism or ill-natured ridicule.

* * * * *

_August 1st._

The "Bee-master" is respectfully requested to publish his letters to
_The Times_ in a pamphlet by themselves.

It is suggested that the paragraph about "Brother Ignatius" be omitted.

The "Bee-master" must have forgotten to have taken his usual allowance
of honey at breakfast when he penned those harsh words.

Did he know "Brother Ignatius," he would soon discover he was

No Drone.

That he is no honey-bee is plain. If not a drone he must be a spider or earwig, creeping by stealth into the old Romish Benedictine hive, to which he does not really belong.

* * * * *

_Stoke-upon-Trent, July 29th._

Dear Sir,--I have long been hoping against hope, and trying to
persuade my friends to interest themselves in that courageous little
insect, the _apis mellifica_; but the drawbacks appear to me to be
rather disheartening. In the first place, the ladies dread the stings
of my little friends; and in the next place, they lose the pleasure
of investigation into the habits of the bees by not being enabled to
procure hives that will enable one to observe the operations of the
industrious little creatures. Your letter, however, in yesterday's
_Times_ enlightens us somewhat as to where the best-constructed
hives may be obtained; and I am sure you have my hearty thanks for
the information you have so kindly spread abroad through the medium
of _The Times_. The common straw hive may not be very conveniently
"tolled" without being in mortal fear of an accident; and to destroy
the bees seems very cruel and wasteful, in order to take the honey
from them. For my part, I have never yet had the courage to attempt to
interfere with a straw hive, nor have I ever yet destroyed one, but
kept them for my amusement and observation. Last year I constructed a
wooden hive--say a square box, divided in the middle by a slide--and
I introduced a young swarm into it, and they soon filled the bottom
half of the box. This year they have had one swarm only, which I have
put into a newly-constructed hive with a moveable bottom and front,
with glass to look through and doors to protect the glass: the size
is 12 by 14 and 16 inches, and they have very nearly filled it since
they were swarmed, on the 6th June. It contains ten large parallel
combs or plates, which are beautifully full of virgin honey, carefully
covered with fine films of wax, to prevent it from either running out
or becoming damaged, I presume, from the atmosphere. I have a small
box _to fit underneath_ the full one; but I cannot induce the bees
to come down by easy means--that is, by shaking the box or drumming
upon it: the vibrations only cause them to run about, but they will
not descend. Pray what means would you adopt to cause them to leave
the spaces between the combs, and go into the lower box, to enable me
to take a portion of the combs and their contents without destroying
or injuring the queen or the other bees? With regard to the box-hive
first named, and which is divided in the middle by a wooden slide,
which has a hole cut into its centre about 6 by 4 inches, and which
was covered by a zinc slide, which I removed in June, after the swarm
came from the box. In a few days after I could only observe about a
dozen which had passed into the top part of the hive. I then tried to
frighten them by shaking the box, in order to induce them to leave
the combs in the bottom half, and pass through the hole into the top,
but without success. I afterwards reversed the box, thinking that I
might induce them to descend, and so shut them out; but they would not
budge an inch. I afterwards placed the box in its proper position,
and closed the entrance-holes for two days, thinking by that means
to cause them to ascend in order to find a way out, but without any
result, save the destruction of _eight hundred_ drones in those two
days, from the anger of the little workers; for, as they could not go
abroad to collect food, the drones cleared every comb that contained
any honey, and now I can see them all as empty as when just made; so
you see I am really nonplussed. Pray what would you do? for if I smoke
them, they will come down, not go up; and I am afraid that brimstone
or tobacco would destroy them.

Yours very faithfully,

T. H.

This family of my correspondent has been, I fear, very ill-used. Bees have a will of their own, and a way too. You may lead and draw, but you cannot, and should not, drive.

Had Mr. H. given them more barley-sugar, or ale and sugar, and practised less manipulation, I think they would have behaved as well as he could wish.

_Stamford, July 29th._

Sir,--I feel compelled to ask you to answer one or two queries of
mine, for without answers I shall be unable to follow out your
admirable instructions in the letter of yesterday's Times. I can only
say, that if you will take the trouble to give me a line I shall feel
greatly obliged.

I am, Sir, yours faithfully,

J. B. S.

Queries.

1.--Which is the best plan of hiving bees?

2.--How are the bees to be persuaded to descend from the _upper_
hives, so as to allow of the honey being extracted?

3.--Should the sheds face any particular aspect?

4.--Is it necessary to stop up the entrance-hole to the hive in
winter, when covering them up with paper?

5.--Are the hives (Ayrshire hexagonal) _bottomless?_ I judge so, as
they are put one on the top of the other, and the bees rise
through the slits?

I fear I must own myself totally ignorant about bee-keeping, so I trust you will excuse these queries.

J. B. S.

The writer will find 1, 2, 3, answered in the body of the work. In reply to 4, No. In reply to 5, Yes.

* * * * *

_Cheltenham, July 30th._

Sir,--I have been much interested with your letters in _The Times_
about bees; and having just commenced keeping them, am anxious for
further information. Your kindness in writing so fully induces me to
trouble you.

I purchased a swarm on June 17th, and have them in a common straw
hive. I am told by the cottager from whom I bought them (who, by the
way, takes his honey by stupifying the bees with a fungus), that as
mine is a late swarm (though a first), I ought not to take any honey
from them this season; but noticing in your letter of 27th your mode
of obtaining honey from a straw hive by cutting a hole in the top and
placing a bell-glass on a board over, I shall be much obliged if you
will inform me if you think I might now adopt this mode, or is it too
late in the season, and ought they to be left undisturbed till next
season?

Will you kindly tell where the Scotch hexagonal hive is to be
procured? I like your account of it so much, that I shall certainly
try it as soon as I can. Will you excuse this trouble?

I remain, Sir, yours obediently,

C. H. H.

To the Gentleman who writes in _The Times_ under the signature of "A
Bee-master."

If a good swarm take place in May, and in a good year, you may hopefully put on a super. For Ayrshire hives, see p. 213.

* * * * *

_July 30th._

Sir,--We have read your letters in _The Times_ with the greatest
interest, partly because we have been for some years bee-keepers on
the more sensible plan of saving the little creatures' lives, and
partly because we are anxious to induce our neighbours (poor cottage
folks) to follow our example, and give up the disgusting smothering
process. We have taken off a glass of honey weighing full twenty
pounds, and have another equally well filled to remove; but should be
very grateful for your advice as to the means of getting rid of the
bees from the super when it is withdrawn, a part of the process not
described in your letters, and one which we cannot manage without much
trouble, and the murder of many insects. We use, for stock, common
straw hives, with flat tops, and a hole in the centre, which we cover
with a piece of zinc or slate, easily removed when we wish to put on
the super. But the bees always continue the comb up through this hole
into the glass; then, when the latter is removed, there is always
broken comb and running honey, to which the bees cling, and to which
they return again and again, and we find the greatest difficulty in
dislodging them.

You likewise recommend covering the stock-hives in winter with paper,
for warmth. Will you kindly tell us whether you consider it best to
close the entrance also?

My only apology for thus intruding on you must rest on our ignorance,
and on your benevolent and enlightened zeal for the good of the poor,
and for the lives of the much ill-treated insects.

I am, Sir, yours obediently,

H. C.

I enclose a stamped envelope, in case you prefer writing to me rather
than again to _The Times_.

Press a zinc plate between hive and super, and on removal substitute a very small empty bell bee-glass, and cover it with woollen cap. On no account close the entrance to the hive.

_August 1st._

My dear Sir,--I have read with much interest your letters in _The
Times_ respecting our little friends the bees, and as one of your
many readers, I beg to thank you for your valuable hints. Will you,
however, complete the matter by giving us one hint more, and that is,
as to how you manage with the bees which may remain in the compartment
which you remove? I have used the lateral wooden hive, but have always
found a difficulty in getting rid of the bees which remained in the
box which I have taken away. One year I took a lateral box full of
honey, but lost it in consequence of the bees having taken it all away
again. I, by the advice of a neighbouring bee-master, had it placed in
a cool part of the garden. If you will kindly tell us how you manage
in this respect, you will greatly oblige.

Yours, faithfully,

W. B. J.

Carry your super, or side-box, if yours is the collateral system, to a little distance from the hive. Raise one side of your box, and they will gradually escape and go home. If it be August, when wasps and corsair-bees are abroad, remove it about 7 P.M. Few, if any, thieves will arrive, and your bees will equally go home.

Or if you take it into a room or closet with a window on hinges, they will fly to the light and cover the window. Open the window smartly, and all on it will fly away. Shut it again till covered with bees, and repeat opening it. No thieves can thus get in, and your bees will all get out, if you have patience.

* * * * *

_Stokenchurch, August 1st_

Sir,--I hope you will pardon the liberty I take in addressing you; but
having read your letter in _The Times_, entitled "Bees and Bee-hives,"
and wishing to gain information on those subjects, I venture under the
circumstances to write to you.

There have been for many years a quantity of bees under some leads
that cover a bow added to this house. About eighteen years ago the
leads were removed, the honey taken, the bees destroyed, and all the
entrances (as was supposed) stopped up. Notwithstanding this, fresh
swarms arrived in the course of the following year, forced their
entrance, and again took possession of the leads. Since then they have
not been disturbed, but now my father expresses a wish to take the
honey and get rid of the bees, as we suffer some inconvenience in the
spring, on account of the bees entering the bed-room.

As I think it a pity that all the bees should be destroyed, and also
have a great wish to keep them in common hives, I should feel much
obliged could you give me any information as to when and how to take
the honey without destroying the bees, and to place the latter in
common straw hives. I regret much that I did not see your letter in
_The Times_ on the "Honey Harvest," nor do I know the day it appeared,
therefore I cannot refer to it. Apologising for troubling you,

I remain, yours faithfully,

A. P.

I do not think it possible to remove the bees. The only alternative is to lessen, if possible, the area and contents of their residence, and thus force them to swarm. If you can lay open their residence, you might stupify the bees with fungus smoke, and abstract a portion of their honey.

* * * * *

_Bath, August 1st._

A lady having read in _The Times_ a Bee-master's letter of the 27th
July, on "Hives," would feel greatly obliged if he would inform
her where the Ayrshire hexagonal hive is to be had, its price, and
likewise the cost of setting up the establishment with one hive
to commence with; where to obtain the best bees, and how many are
necessary; and the time to commence keeping them. Would a book on
Bees be of much use to a beginner! An answer will be esteemed a great
favour, if not entailing too much trouble on the "Bee-master."

For Ayrshire hive, write to "Mr. Bruce Taylor, Post-office, Mauchlin, Ayrshire, N.B."

* * * * *

_Brighton, August 3rd._

Sir,--I have just been reading your excellent and interesting letter
in _The Times_ of this morning, and am induced to write you a second
letter, having despatched one to you last week, soliciting you to be
kind enough to reply to my queries and inquiries therein contained,
and not having received any reply thereto. I can readily imagine you
could not answer all your correspondents, and that your letters in
_The Times_ would contain the information that most of them sought.
Although I have perused them with the greatest pleasure, I do not
find they tell me whether you would be kind enough to sell me any of
the _virgin_ honey which your bees have made this year, which was the
principal point I wished to have solved in my former communication. I
am quite sure you are a gentleman of position, and from your language
I am inclined to believe are a member of the clerical profession; and
as I am unwilling to trespass unreasonably on your valuable time, I
do earnestly beg, if you are unable or unwilling to sell me any of
your _virgin honey of 1864_, you would be so truly obliging as to
furnish me with the name and address of some respectable party in your
locality or neighbourhood, on whom I could depend to purchase what
I might require. I never eat "rancid London," or indeed any "butter
for breakfast," or any other meal, and am not fond of "nasty greasy
bacon;" but as I cannot find any substitute of which I approve but
pure "virgin honey," and know not where I can procure and purchase the
latter from the "grower," I am constantly obliged to eat my dry toast
and bread without any agreeable addition thereto. I am exceedingly
desirous to cultivate a good temper and "sweet disposition;" and
if you would kindly aid me in this by supplying my "honeyed
requirements," or inform me where I can purchase what I wish for, I
shall be most grateful for your reply, if it contain only the name and
address of some respectable person to whom I can make application for
the "pure, unadulterated, virgin honey of 1864," and for which purpose
I enclose you a stamped envelope.

Hoping you will oblige me, and apologising for trespassing on your
valuable time,

I remain, yours most obediently,

E. L. B.

Pure honey, taken by deprivation, and in the most charming white wax cells, may be had of Neighbour, in Holborn, London.

* * * * *

_Sundridge, August 3rd._

_To "The Times" Bee-Master._

Sir,--In reference to your interesting letter on "Bees and Bee-hives,"
in _The Times_ of last Thursday, I take leave to explain to you how I
prevent tom-tits and other birds from molesting my industrious little
friends, if so they should feel inclined.

I affix before the door of the hive a piece of wire-work, resembling
the half of a round mouse-trap, and by this very simple means a bee is
permitted to return to its house, or take wing as it pleases, without
"let, stop, or stay," from your "wicked hypocrite" and his companions.

This precaution being taken, I endeavour to encourage all mischievous
birds to abide with me, feeding the several tom-tits, to each of
whom our gardens are so largely indebted, throughout the winter with
walnuts, and even providing them with sleeping-places.

I have the honour to be, Sir,

Your very humble servant,

G. S. S.

This is a very sensible letter, and well worth the attention of every bee-master.

* * * * *

From the Hon. and Rev. Orlando Forrester.

_Dover ridge, Derby, August 26th._

Sir,--Last autumn I saved from a cruel and unnecessary death a very
old stock of bees belonging to a neighbour, the parent one of all his
colony, full of black comb; I gave him seven or eight shillings for
it. I fed it, and it just lived through the winter. I gave it a box on
the lateral plan, which it filled with a quarter of a hundredweight of
honey,--so rewarding my interference.

At the time I took my box from this stock, a neighbour destroyed two
of his hives, bees, &c., for the honey (I think he will not do so
ungrateful a thing another year). Happening to go into his garden the
morning after, he told me he had found the queen that morning dead. On
showing her to me, we found she was alive, but of course none the more
lively for the sulphuring of the previous night.

I begged her, took her home, and put her under a finger-glass with
a little honey. I then got down from my store-closet my box of
honey-comb untouched, cut away a good bit of honey, leaving sixteen
or seventeen pounds. I carried it back to its old spot, opened the
communication, and soon had a good number of the little manufacturers
in their old quarters. Towards night I closed the communication again,
stopped them in, and carried the old hive away about fifty yards. This
done, I opened the ventilator at the top of the box, and inserted
the strange queen, and put the inverted finger-glass over to see
the effect. They seemed in a moment to be in a strange commotion,
apparently receiving her majesty with hurrahs, as the popular
candidate at an election is received.

The next morning they seemed quite satisfied, and I noticed pollen
taken in, and a struggle once or twice with a drone which had
remained--there may have been seven or eight of these gentlemen in
my experimental colony. Of course, the carrying in pollen was soon
discontinued, as there was no brood to feed; the material, weighing
sixteen pounds, being all honey and wax. I also saw them active in
defence of their homes against the wasps; and although some wasps
contrived to enter, I have seen the bees bring out their corpses now
and then since, showing that they appear right.

To-day, the sun shining very bright and the temperature being warm, I
am flabbergasted by seeing crowds of drones going in and out, and no
slaughtering of these now unnecessary mouths. I say, can all be right?
Is the queen still alive? My little friends fight the wasps, and go in
and out; but what meaneth this crowd of drones?

Will you excuse my putting my case to you? for I am a lover of bees,
but not very learned in the matter.

I should like to make my one cast-off stock two for next year by this
artificial means, besides getting my honey; and so be in a good
position to preach to the bee-killers the folly as well as cruelty of
bee-murder.

I enclose a stamped envelope, and remain, Sir,

Yours faithfully,

Orlando William Forrester.

This is a very interesting letter. Is it possible that the drones arriving from other hives, and entering when the queen was alone, were really suitors for her majesty's choice?

I do not like artificial swarming. I prefer to follow the instinct of the bees, not to create new relations: others think otherwise.

* * * * *

_Brighton, August 30th._

Sir,--I trust you will excuse the liberty I have taken in addressing
you on purely personal matters. Your kindly, genial letters in _The
Times_ have induced me to do so. We wish greatly to increase a very
small income, and you have so strongly advocated the care of "bees,"
as both remunerative and agreeable, that we wish to try on rather a
large scale. I should not have troubled you on this subject, as you
have intimated your intention of publishing, but that I feared the
season for procuring stock would be over before the book appeared.
We wish to commence with not less than fifty hives; and, as many of
the authorities we have consulted are very conflicting, I have taken
the liberty of begging your aid in our dilemma. Might I trespass upon
your kindness so far as to ask your opinion as to the best method of
purchasing _bees_; also the best description of hives? With regard
to their care during winter, and their general management, we shall
doubtless be fully informed in your book.

Again apologising for thus troubling you,

I am, Sir, yours obediently,

A. A. M.

If you buy stock-hives this autumn, you must see to it that--

1. They are not very old.

2. That they weigh from twenty to thirty pounds.

3. They must be transported by water, or carried one at each end
of a pole on a man's shoulder.

4. Let them swarm next summer, and thus multiply your stock.

5. If you wait till spring, buy swarms, which is the best way.

Fifty swarms, gathered from cottagers, would cost 25_l._

Begin with fewer, and increase gradually.

_Faringdon, August 11th._

Sir,--I have bees in the common cottage hive, the honey of which I
wish to take without destroying the bees. I am told I can fumigate
them with puff-ball. I tried doing so, but killed my bees. I was
afterwards told I could fumigate them with chloroform; this I also
tried, but--whether the chloroform was good or bad I cannot say--I
failed again.

Three or four years since I heard that a person offered a friend to
take his honey for him, if he would give him the bees. The offer being
accepted, the person fumigated the bees, took the honey from them for
his friend, and carried the bees to his own home, where, in the end of
October following, after giving them six pounds of moist sugar in ale,
they contrived to fill the hive with comb and honey, and the whole
weighed nearly twenty-five pounds.