Part 10

This foolish logician introduces foreigners to an English hive. They do not act like English bees--in short, they are not acquainted with a country in which they are not acclimatised; and from the blunders of the Ligurian foreigners he infers the ignorance of the British bee. This is a specimen of the rubbish printed from Devon to Haddington.

Another position of this Scotchman with a bee in his bonnet is as follows:--

"In removing a super--that is, a top or bonnet--he says they should be taken one hundred yards away from the hive, and the bees will fly back to the hive in about an hour. This I think a very bad plan. In the first place, if taken off in a fine day the bees would not leave it in an hour, and if there were any bees near, they would find it out in that time, their scent or sense of smell being so strong, and he would never get them away; and, besides, he would be very apt to take the queen away also, she being often found in the top, and she might not be able to fly back. It is certainly a bad plan in this part of the country, especially when the weather is cold in the autumn. When removing the heather honey, blow a few puffs of smoke from a burning rag into a super, and take it off, turning it upside down, putting on it another empty super of the same size, with cloth wrapped round where they meet, to keep out light. Next give the super containing the honey and the bees a few taps with a piece of stick at intervals. The bees, when filled with honey, which they will do as soon as disturbed, will ascend into the empty super, and if the queen should be there she will lead them at once, and they can all be put back into the hive. Any top can be emptied of bees in fifteen minutes by doing it in this way, and without running risk of losing the queen."

Now, in ninety-nine cases in a hundred the queen is not in the super, and an intelligent bee-master can take care she is not there before he removes the super; and, in the next place, The Times Bee-master expressly stated his entire aversion to smoking bees for such a purpose; and earlier than August there is no risk of corsair bees. Besides, preference of one plan to another is not necessarily proof of ignorance.

This mere copyist of Devon remarks:--

"What can be the necessity for subjecting sugar to the temperature of 300 degrees, and rendering it so hard that weak hives are not able to take as much as keep them alive, when the same amount of sugar made to the consistency of their natural food would enable them to live? Common sense would indicate to anyone that in artificial feeding the nearer we approach their natural food the better; but it may be that it is hard honey which this wiseacre's bees gather for him, and that the flowers in Kent give different food than those in Scotland! Let anyone observe the time a bee takes to fill itself on barley-sugar and the time from sugar Syrup, and the labour spent on the former to that of the latter, and he will soon see the difference between the two. And the only reason the writer gave, in answer to a correspondent, for giving the barley-sugar is, 'that the other clogged the feet and smeared the wings of the bees.' Now, everyone must be aware that a few straws in the dish prevents this. Again, he says that 'the only vice among bees is their passionate liking for rum and strong ale; but the tee-totallers would fairly reply that they never care about either unless it is pressed upon them.' And I say they would reply truly, for I maintain that the bees will not touch either rum or ale unless they are saturated with sugar or honey. But why be at the expense of the one or the other, when they will take it made with pure water before either?"

* * * * *

He must be in the habit of bolting his oatmeal pottage, or he never would have inferred that sipping its food in ten minutes is more conducive to the health and digestion of the bee than sipping it in half an hour. His remarks on ale and rum are merely a translation of the nonsense spoken by his original. But, in common with his co-partners in criticism, he thinks the Bee-master's sole design in writing the letters in The Times was to puff his forthcoming work on bees. This mean and contemptible charge is best met by the simple and truthful answer, that the Bee-master had no more idea of writing a book on bees than of describing Mount Radnor or Yester Gardens. His purpose to do so arose from the urgent request of literally hundreds of correspondents.

On my suggestion as to the purpose and object of two thousand drones or male bees being produced, when there is only one perfect female--the queen--the writer observes:--

"In one of his letters in answer to correspondents, 'Why there are so many drones in a hive, and only one princess?' he confesses it a hard problem. But one part seems to him very clear--'When the queen's countless eggs come to be hatched, the temperature of the hive must be raised to 85° or 95°. The fat, round, and lazy drones are really the fuel. They accordingly give out great heat.' Had the writer really known anything about bees, he could never have made such a statement. If the drones are the fuel to keep up the heat, why is it that they are never found in the hives till May or June--in this part of the country, at least--after thousands of bees have been hatched? If they were the fuel, surely one would expect them to be the first eggs which were laid by the queen, according to his theory; but a queen will begin laying workers' eggs in January, and yet lay no drone eggs till May, just when the warm weather commences. Now, if they were required for heat, naturally Ave would expect them to be found before May, and they commence killing them in August, when the cold weather begins."

Now, the fact is, it is in May and June that drones are wanted to keep up the heat. Half the bees are out at work, the means of maintaining the temperature are therefore diminished. The drones remain at home, unless during the noonday heat, when they take an airing, and can best be spared.

* * * * *

My first letter to The Times was a report of the prospects of the honey harvest, as follows:--

I have ten stock-hives. I never destroy or kill my bees. I look on the system of the sulphur match as barbarous and unprofitable. I leave each family on an average not less than twenty-five pounds of honey for their winter stores, and the surplus only I take away. Should any hive swarm, which I can generally prevent, and the remaining stock be therefore deficient in provision for the winter, I feed them in the course of the early spring with barley-sugar. This and other little attentions endear the bee-master to his bees, as they are very susceptible of gratitude and have long memories.

A hive is very like a church: when, in May, it increases rapidly in numbers and the temperature rises inside, you either increase their accommodation in area or in height, or you will have a secession. Should a secession take place, bees set an example ecclesiastics might copy. The new church never falls out with the old one. Side by side they work in perfect harmony, believing there is plenty of food for both. The only incidental mischief-maker is the wasp; whether he be prelate or presbyter I cannot say, but I know well he is a thief and intruder, and after a fight, the bees, who in this matter are rigid non-intrusionists, eject, maim, or kill him--and he deserves it. Queen Victoria's Court is modelled on the apiarian queen's. You may see the queen-bee, by means of my glass windows, going her rounds and giving orders, with her royal ladies, who never turn their backs on her majesty. The exceptional instance occurred on one occasion when it became necessary to give a rather sickly establishment rum and sugar, of which they drank to excess and got drunk. As long as the stimulus lasted, the monarchy became a fierce democracy, and queen and subjects were confounded in the mélée.

The only vice among bees is their passionate liking for rum and strong ale. But the teetotaller would fairly reply, that they never care about either unless it is pressed upon them.

My bees at present have begun the massacre of the drones. These are a sort of Benedictine monks, who, like Brother Ignatius, prefer enjoyment to hard work. They are round, fat, and lazy, making much noise, and eating of stores to which they do not contribute.... But you want to hear about the harvest?

In one square box there are forty pounds of honey, and in a corresponding super rapidly filling up, there is likely to be for me as much more.

In three Scotch or Ayrshire octagonal hives, which I have found to answer best of any, the three supers are in two almost full; and in one there is at least forty pounds weight in the super, and over the super is a bell-glass with seven or eight pounds additional.

In one of Neighbours' very beautiful straw hives I have two bell-glasses almost full, and a month ago I removed from this hive a very beautiful glass of honey.

In one of Pettitt's lateral hives, the bees passed through the subterranean archway a month ago, and have nearly filled this compartment. On this, also, I have placed a super bell-glass, which is beautifully stored.

From a common cottage straw hive I removed a bell-glass super three weeks ago weighing eighteen pounds.

This season I shall have nearly two hundred pounds weight of surplus honey, and yet leave in each hive more than enough to last the producers till April, 1865. Why should not cottagers cultivate bees? There is nothing to pay for pasture, very little labour is required, and that labour amusing, in taking care of them, and for very early virgin honey there may be had one shilling and sixpence or two shillings and sixpence a pound. The poor cottager might thus easily pay his rent. If landlords could only convince them that the old system of burning the bees in order to get the stock honey--which is at best inferior--is not only cruel but unprofitable, they would do an essential service. The poor peasant would have an interesting amusement after his day's work, and a contribution towards his rent on the year's end.

* * * * *

Bees and Bee-hives.

To the Editor of "The Times."

Sir,--Since my letter appeared in your columns on "the Honey Harvest," I have received from yourself various communications from rectors, vicars, curates, &c., who feel a very great interest in bee-keeping as a social and commercial question. I have also received letters addressed to me as "The Times Bee-master," which the postman, guided by some remarkable instinct, has placed in my hands. Most of these letters invite confidential and personal communication on this subject, and record a variety of questions, difficulties, and perplexities which have injured or arrested the apiarian enterprises of the writers. I prefer to answer some of their inquiries through your columns, believing that the interest and importance of all that tends to benefit the cottager will ever find a place or a defence in The Times. The most urgent questions in the letters of my correspondents refer to the hives I employ, and which I briefly described in my letter. The first I mentioned is the Scotch or Ayrshire octagonal hive. It is made of thoroughly seasoned deal, in the form of a hexagon, about eight inches in height, and sixteen inches diameter. On the top is a series of parallel slits, extending from front to back, which I open or shut by a series of corresponding deal slides. On receiving a swarm in April or May, I introduce the slides, and thereby close up the top of the box. On finding--as in fine weather I am sure to find in three or four weeks--that the box is full, I place on the top another hexagonal box, in all respects the same in size and shape, and draw out the slides, and thereby introduce the bees to the vacant upper chamber. As each box has a window, I am thus able to ascertain progress. When this upper box is filled with honey, I may place on the top of it another precisely the same, drawing out the slides on the top of the second box, and introducing the bees to a third story But usually I prefer, for the sake of the beauty of it, a bell-glass, greater or less as the season may suggest. I have found this hive by far the most successful. It seems the bees, who construct their cells in the form of hexagons, prefer the house in which they work to be very much of the same shape. A cottager may very easily make these boxes in the long winter evenings. The second kind of hive I alluded to is made of straw, and may be purchased at Neighbours', in Holborn. The greatest disadvantage is its expense, costing, as it does, thirty shillings. But it is so well made that it will last very long. I have had one in constant use during ten years, and it is still as good as when it was bought. Its top is flat, with three longitudinal apertures, closed till full with zinc slides. About the end of May, in a good year, I draw out the slides, after placing over each a good-sized bell-glass; and in July I have often had in each glass seven or eight pounds of honey. The reason of the failure of this hive is the coldness of the glass, which Neighbours' additional super straw hive or cover does not mend. But if my correspondents will get a piece of thick Scotch plaid made like a nightcap, and case each glass with this, they will find the bees use it as readily as a wood or straw hive, and there will be no moisture from condensation of the bees' breath inside.

The third sort of hive is Pettitt's, of Snargate, Dover. It is worked on the lateral system, and of its kind is a perfect gem. Two boxes are placed on one floor, with a subterranean communication between them. On stocking the box on the right, a zinc slide is introduced, which shuts off the communication. As soon as the box is full, the slide is withdrawn and the communication laid open. The bees take possession of the other box on the left, and fill it with pure honey. When my harvest comes, I shut off the communication, and remove the left-hand box full of honey. You will perceive that my principle of action proceeds on the notion that the bottom box of the Ayrshire or Scotch hive, the straw box of Neighbours', and the right-hand box of Pettitt's, are each the sacred property of my bees, which I feel it larceny to lessen or disturb, and that the surplus is the tithe or portion of the bee-master. The ruinous blunder of country bee-keepers is their taking honey from the former--honey, too, mixed with brood and bees' bread and the films of the young grubs. In this, the department I never touch, the queen presides with her ladies-in-waiting; and in any one of these, if the bees have filled the additional supers or laterals, there is abundance for all her subjects during the winter.