CHAPTER X._Langstroth on the Hive and the Honey-Bee: A Bee Keeper's Manual

NATURAL SWARMING, AND HIVING OF SWARMS.

The swarming of bees has been justly regarded as one of the most

beautiful sights in the whole compass of rural economy. Although, for

reasons which will hereafter be assigned, I prefer to rely chiefly on

artificial means for the multiplication of colonies, I should be very

unwilling to pass a season without participating, to some extent, in the

pleasing excitement of natural swarming.

"Up mounts the chief, and to the cheated eye

Ten thousand shuttles dart along the sky;

As swift through æther rise the rushing swarms,

Gay dancing to the beam their sun-bright forms;

And each thin form, still ling'ring on the sight,

Trails, as it shoots, a line of silver light.

High pois'd on buoyant wing, the thoughtful queen,

In gaze attentive, views the varied scene,

And soon her far-fetch'd ken discerns below

The light laburnum lift her polish'd brow,

Wave her green leafy ringlets o'er the glade,

And seem to beckon to her friendly shade.

Swift as the falcon's sweep, the monarch bends

Her flight abrupt; the following host descends.

Round the fine twig, like cluster'd grapes, they close

In thickening wreaths, and court a short repose."

_Evans._

The swarming of bees, by making provision for the constant

multiplication of colonies, was undoubtedly intended both to guard the

insect against the possibility of extinction, and to make its labors in

the highest degree useful to man. The laws of reproduction in those

insects which do not live in regular colonies, are such as to secure an

ample increase of numbers. The same is true in the case of hornets,

wasps and humble-bees which live in colonies only during the warm

weather. In the Fall of the year, all the males perish, while the

impregnated females retreat into winter quarters and remain dormant,

until the warm weather restores them to activity, and each one becomes

the mother of a new family.

The honey bee differs from all these insects, in being compelled, by the

laws of its physical organization, to live in communities, during the

entire year. The balmy breezes of Spring will quickly thaw out the

frozen veins of a torpid Wasp; but the bee is incapable of enduring even

a moderate degree of cold: a temperature as low as 50° speedily chills

it, and it would be quite as easy to recall to life the stiffened

corpses in the charnel house of the Convent of the Great St. Bernard, as

to restore to animation, a frozen bee. In cool weather, they must

therefore associate in large numbers, in order to maintain the animal

heat which is necessary to their preservation; and the formation of new

colonies, after the manner of wasps and hornets, is clearly impossible.

If the young queens left the parent stock in Summer, and were able, like

the mother-wasps, to lay the foundations of a new colony, they could not

maintain the warmth requisite for the development of their young, even

if they were able, without any baskets on their thighs, to gather

bee-bread for their support. If all these difficulties were surmounted,

they would still be unable to amass any treasures for our use, or even

to lay up the stores requisite for their own preservation.

How admirably are all these difficulties obviated by the present

arrangement! Their domicile is well supplied with all the materials for

the rearing of brood, and long before any of the insects which depend

upon the heat of the sun, are able to commence breeding, the bees have

added thousands in the full vigor of youth to their already numerous

population. They are thus able to send off in season, colonies

sufficiently powerful to take advantage of the honey-harvest, and

provision the new hive against the approach of Winter. From these

considerations, it is very evident that swarming, so far from being, as

some Apiarians have considered it, a forced or unnatural event, is one,

which in a state of nature, could not possibly be dispensed with.

Let us now inquire under what circumstances it ordinarily takes place.

The time when swarms may be expected, depends of course, upon climate,

season, and the strength of the stocks. In the Northern and Middle

States, bees seldom swarm before the latter part of May; and June may be

considered as the great swarming month. The importance of having

powerful swarms early in the season, will be discussed in another place.

In the Spring, as soon as a hive well filled with comb and bees, becomes

too much crowded to accommodate its teeming population, the bees begin

the necessary preparations for emigration. A number of royal cells are

commenced about the time that the drones first make their appearance;

and by the time that the young queens arrive at maturity, the drones are

always found in the greatest abundance. The first swarm is invariably

led off by the old queen, unless she has previously died from accident

or disease, in which case, it is accompanied by one of the young queens

reared to supply her loss. The old mother leaves soon after the royal

cells are sealed over, unless delayed by unfavorable weather. There are

no signs from which the Apiarian can, with certainty, predict the issue

of a first swarm. I devoted annually, much attention to this point,

vainly hoping to discover some infallible indications of first swarming;

until taught by further reflection that, from the very nature of the

case, there can be no such indications. The bees, from an unfavorable

state of the weather, or the failure of the blossoms to yield an

abundant supply of honey, often change their minds, and refuse to swarm,

even after all their preparations have been completed. Nay more, they

sometimes send out no new colonies that season, when a sudden change of

weather has interrupted them on the very day when they were intending to

emigrate, and after they had taken a full supply of honey for their

journey.

If on a fair, warm day in the swarming season, but few bees leave a

strong hive, while other colonies are busily at work, we may, unless the

weather suddenly prove unfavorable, look with great confidence for a

swarm. As the old queens, which accompany the first swarm, are heavy

with eggs, and fly with considerable difficulty, they are shy of

venturing out, except on fair, still days. If the weather is very

sultry, a swarm will sometimes issue as early as 7 o'clock in the

morning; but from 10 to 2, is the usual time, and the majority of swarms

come off from 11 to 1. Occasionally, a swarm will venture out as late as

5 P. M. An old queen is seldom guilty of such a piece of indiscretion.

I have in repeated instances witnessed the whole process of swarming, in

my observing hives. On the day fixed for their departure, the queen

appears to be very restless, and instead of depositing her eggs in the

cells, she travels over the combs, and communicates her agitation to the

whole colony. The emigrating bees fill themselves with honey, some time

before their departure: in one instance, I noticed them laying in their

supplies, more than two hours before they left. A short time before the

swarm rises, a few bees may generally be seen, sporting in the air, with

their heads turned always to the hive, occasionally flying in and out,

as though they were impatient for the important event to take place. At

length, a very violent agitation commences in the hive: the bees appear

almost frantic, whirling around in a circle, which continually enlarges,

like the circles made by a stone thrown into still water, until at last

the whole hive is in a state of the greatest ferment, and the bees rush

impetuously to the entrance, and pour forth in one steady stream. Not a

bee looks behind, but each one pushes straight ahead, as though flying

"for dear life," or urged on by some invisible power, in its headlong

career. The queen often does not come out, until a large number have

left, and she is frequently so heavy, from the large number of eggs in

her ovaries, that she falls to the ground, incapable of rising with the

colony into the air.

The bees are very soon aware of her absence, and a most interesting

scene may now be witnessed. A diligent search is immediately made for

their missing mother; the swarm scatters in all directions, and I have

frequently seen the leaves of the adjoining trees and bushes, almost as

thickly covered with the anxious explorers, as they are with drops of

rain after a copious shower. If she cannot be found, they return to the

old hive, though occasionally they attempt to enter some other hive, or

join themselves to another swarm if any is still unhived.

The ringing of bells, and beating of kettles and frying-pans, is one of

the good old ways more honored by the breach than the observance; it may

answer a very good purpose in amusing the children, but I believe that

as far as the bees are concerned, it is all time thrown away; and that

it is not a whit more efficacious than the custom practiced by some

savage tribes, who, when the sun is eclipsed, imagining that it has been

swallowed by an enormous dragon, resort to the most frightful noises, to

compel his snake-ship to disgorge their favorite luminary. If a swarm

has selected a new home previous to their departure, no amount of

_noise_ will ever compel them to alight, but as soon as all the bees

which compose the emigrating colony have left the hive, they fly in a

direct course, or "bee-line," to the chosen spot. I have noticed that

when bees are much neglected by those who pretend to take care of them,

such unceremonious leave-taking is quite common; on the contrary, when

proper attention is bestowed on them, it seldom occurs.

It can seldom if ever occur to those who manage their bees according to

my system; as I shall show in the Chapter on Artificial Swarming. If the

Apiarian perceives that his swarm instead of clustering begins to rise

higher and higher in the air, and evidently means to depart, not a

moment is to be lost: instead of empty noises, he must resort to means

much more effective to stay their vagrant propensities. Handfulls of

dirt cast into the air, or water thrown among them, will often so

disorganize them as to compel them to alight. Of all devices for

stopping them, the most original one that I have ever heard of, is to

flash the sun's rays among them, by the use of a looking glass! I have

never had occasion to try it, but the anonymous writer who recommends

it, says that he never knew it to fail. If they are forcibly prevented

from eloping, then special care must be taken or they will be almost

sure soon after hiving, to leave for their selected home. The queen

should be caught and confined for several days in a way which will be

subsequently described. The same caution must be exercised, when new

swarms abandon their hive. If the queen cannot be caught, and there is

reason to dread a desertion, the bees may be carried into the cellar,

and confined in total darkness, until towards sun-set of the third day

after they swarmed, being supplied in the mean time with water and honey

to build their combs.

If a colony decides to go, they look upon the hive in which they are put

as only a temporary stopping place, and seldom trouble themselves to

build any comb in it. If the hive is so constructed as to permit

inspection, I can tell by a glance whether bees are disgusted with their

new residence, and mean before long to clear out. They not only refuse

to work with that energy so characteristic of a new swarm, but they have

a peculiar look which to the experienced eye at once proclaims the fact

that they are staying only upon sufferance. Their very attitude, hanging

as they do with a sort of dogged or supercilious air, as though they

hated even so much as to touch their detested abode, is equivalent to an

open proclamation that they mean to be off. My numerous experiments in

attempting from the moment of hiving, to make the bees work in observing

hives exposed to the full light of day, instead of keeping them as I now

do in darkness for several days, have made me quite familiar with all

their graceless, do-nothing proceedings before their departure. Bees

sometimes abandon their hives very early in the Spring, or late in

Summer or Fall. They exhibit all the appearance of natural swarming; but

they leave, not because the population is crowded, but because it is

either so small, or the hive so destitute of supplies, that they are

discouraged or driven to desperation. I once knew a colony to leave the

hive under such circumstances, on a springlike day in December! They

seem to have a presentiment that they must perish if they stay, and

instead of awaiting the sure approach of famine, they sally

out to see if something cannot be done to better their condition.

At first sight, it seems strange that so provident an insect should not

always select a suitable domicile before venturing on so important a

step as to abandon the old home. Often before they are safely housed

again, they are exposed to powerful winds and drenching rains, which

beat down and destroy many of their number.

I solve this problem in the economy of the bee, in the same manner that

I have solved so many others, by considering in what way, this

arrangement conduces to the advantage of man.

The honey-bee would have been of comparatively little service to him, if

instead of tarrying until he had sufficient time to establish them in a

hive in which to labor for him, their instinct impelled them to decamp,

without any delay, from the restraints of domestication. In this, as in

many other things, we see that what on a superficial view, appeared to

be a very obvious imperfection, proves, on closer examination, to be a

special contrivance to answer important ends.

To return to our new swarm. The queen sometimes alights first, and

sometimes joins the cluster after it has commenced forming. It is a very

rare thing for the bees ever to cluster, unless the queen is with them;

and when they do, and yet afterwards disperse, I believe that usually

the queen, after first rising with them, has been lost by falling into

some spot where she is unnoticed by the bees. In two instances, I

performed the following interesting experiment.

Perceiving a hive in the very act of swarming, I contracted the entrance

so as to secure the queen when she made her appearance. In each case, at

least one third of the bees came out, before the queen presented

herself to join them. When I perceived that the swarm had given up their

search for her, and were beginning to return to the parent hive, I

placed her, with her wings clipped, on the limb of a small evergreen

tree: she crawled to the very top of the limb, as if for the purpose of

making herself as conspicuous as possible. A few bees noticed her, and

instead of alighting, darted rapidly away; in a few seconds, the whole

colony were apprised of her presence, flew in a dense cloud to the spot,

and commenced quietly clustering around her. I have often noticed the

surprising rapidity with which bees communicate with each other, while

on the wing. Telegraphic signals are hardly more instantaneous. (See

Chapter on the Loss of the Queen.)

That bees send out scouts to seek a suitable abode, it seems to me, can

admit of no serious question. Swarms have been traced to their new home,

either in their flight directly from their hive, or from the place where

they have clustered; and it is evident, that in such instances, they

have pursued the most direct course. Now such a precision of flight to a

"_terra incognita_," an unknown home, would plainly be impossible, if

some of their number had not previously selected the spot, so as to be

competent to act as guides to the rest. The sight of the bees for

distant objects, is wonderfully acute, and after rising to a sufficient

elevation, they can see the prominent objects in the vicinity of their

intended abode, even although they may be several miles distant. Whether

the bees send out their scouts _before_ or _after_ swarming, may admit

of more question. In cases where the colony flies without alighting, to

its new home, they are unquestionably dispatched before swarming. If

this were their usual course, then we should naturally expect all the

colonies to take the same speedy departure. Or if, for the convenience

of the queen over fatigued by the excitement of swarming, or for any

other reason, they should see fit to cluster, then we should expect that

only a transient tarrying would be allowed. Instead of this, they often

remain until the next day, and instances of a more protracted delay are

not unfrequent. The cases which occur, of bees stopping in their flight,

and clustering again on any convenient object, are not inconsistent with

this view of the subject; for if the weather is hot, and the sun shines

directly upon them, they will often leave before they have found a

suitable habitation; and even when they are on the way to their new

home, the queen being heavy with eggs, and unaccustomed to fly, is

sometimes from weariness, compelled to alight, and her colony clusters

around her. Queens, under such circumstances, sometimes seem unwilling

to entrust themselves again to their wings, and the poor bees attempt to

lay the foundations of their colony, on fence rails, hay-stacks, or

other most unsuitable places.

I have been informed by Mr. Henry M. Zollickoffer of Philadelphia, a

very intelligent and reliable observer, that he knew a swarm to settle

on a willow tree in that city, in a lot owned by the Pennsylvania

Hospital; it remained there for sometime, and the boys pelted it with

stones, to get possession of its comb and honey.

The absolute necessity for scouts or explorers, is evident from all the

facts in the case, unless we admit that bees have the faculty of flying

in an air-line to a hollow tree, or some suitable abode which they have

never seen, though they cannot find their hive, if, in their absence, it

is moved only a few rods from its former position.

These obvious considerations are abundantly confirmed by the repeated

instances in which a few bees have been noticed prying very

inquisitively into a hole in a hollow tree or the cornice of a

building, and have been succeeded, before long, by a whole colony. The

importance of these remarks will be more obvious, when I come to discuss

the proper mode of hiving bees.

Having described the common method of procedure pursued by the new

swarm, when left without interference to their natural instincts, it is

time to return to the parent stock from which they emigrated.

In witnessing the immense number which have abandoned it, we might

naturally suppose that it must be almost entirely depopulated. It is

sometimes asserted that as bees swarm in the pleasantest part of the

day, the population is replenished by the return of large numbers of

workers that were absent in the fields; this, however, can seldom be the

case, as it is rare for many bees to be absent from the hive at the time

of swarming.

To those who limit the fertility of the queen to 200, or at most 400

eggs per day, the rapid replenishing of the hive after swarming, must

ever be a problem incapable of solution; but to those who have ocular

demonstration that she can lay from one to three thousand eggs a day, it

is no mystery at all. A sufficient number of bees is always left behind,

to carry on the domestic operations of the hive, and as the old queen

departs only when the population of the hive is super-abundant; and when

thousands of young bees are hatching daily, and often 30,000 or more,

are rapidly maturing, in a short time the hive is almost as populous as

it was before swarming. Those who assert that the new colony is composed

of young bees which have been forced to emigrate by the older ones, have

certainly failed to use their eyes to much advantage, or they would have

seen, in hiving a new swarm, that it is composed of both young and old;

some, having wings ragged from hard work, while others are evidently

quite young. After the tumult of swarming is entirely over, not a bee

that did not participate in it, seeks afterwards to join the new colony,

and not one that did, seeks to return. What determines some to go, and

others to stay, we have no certain means of knowing.

How wonderfully abiding the impression made upon an insect, which in a

moment causes it to lose all its strong affection for the old home in

which it was bred, and which it has entered, perhaps hundreds of times;

so that when established in another hive, though only a few feet

distant, it never afterwards pays the slightest attention to its former

abode! Often, when the hive into which the new swarm is put, is not

removed from the place where the bees were hived, until some have gone

to the fields, on their return, they fly for hours, in ceaseless circles

about the spot where the missing hive stood. I have often known them to

continue the vain search for their companions until they have, at

length, dropped down from utter exhaustion, and perished in close

proximity to their old homes!

It has been already stated that the old queen, if the weather is

favorable, generally leaves about the time that the young queens are

sealed over, to be changed into nymphs. In about eight days more, one of

these queens hatches, and the question must now be decided whether any

more colonies are to be sent out that season, or not. If the hive is

well filled with bees, and the season in all respects promising, this

question is generally decided in the affirmative; although colonies

often refuse to swarm more than once when they are very strong, and when

we can assign no reason for such a course; and they sometimes swarm

repeatedly, to the utter ruin of both the old stock, and the

after-swarms.

If the bees decide to swarm again, the first hatched queen is allowed

to have her own way. She rushes immediately to the cells of her sisters,

and, (as was described in the Chapter on Physiology,) stings them to

death. From some observations that I have made, I am inclined to think

that the other bees aid her in this murderous transaction: they

certainly tear open the cradles of the slaughtered innocents, and remove

them from the cells. Their dead bodies may often be found on the ground

in front of the hive.

When a queen has emerged in the natural way from her cell, the bees

usually nibble away the now useless abode, until only a small acorn cup

remains; but when by violence she has met with an untimely end, they

take down entirely the whole of the cell. By counting these acorn-cups,

it can always be ascertained how many young queens have hatched in a

hive.

Before the queens emerge from their cells, a fluttering sound is

frequently heard, which is caused by the rapid motion of their wings,

and which must not be confounded with the piping notes which will soon

be described. If the bees of the parent stock decide to swarm again, the

first hatched queen is prevented from killing the others. A strong guard

is kept over their cells, and as often as she approaches them with

murderous intent, she is bitten, or otherwise rudely treated, and given

to understand by the most uncourtier-like demonstrations, that she

cannot, in all things, do just as she pleases.

When thus repulsed, like men and women who cannot have their own way,

she is highly offended and utters an angry sound, given forth in a quick

succession of notes, and which sounds not unlike the rapid utterance of

the words, "peep, peep." I have frequently, by holding a queen in the

closed hand, caused her to make the same noise. To this angry note, one

or more of the queens still unhatched, will respond, in a somewhat

hoarser key, just as chicken-cocks, by crowing, bid defiance to each

other. These sounds are entirely unlike the usual steady hum of the

bees, and when heard, are the almost infallible indications that a

second swarm will soon issue. They are occasionally so loud that they

may be heard at some distance from the hive.

About a week after first swarming, the Apiarian should, early in the

morning or at evening, when the bees are still, place his ear against

the hive, and he will, if the queens are piping, readily recognize their

peculiar sounds. If their notes are not heard, at the very latest,

sixteen days after the departure of the first swarm, by which time the

young queens are mature, even if the first colony left as soon as the

eggs were deposited in the royal cells, it is an infallible indication

that the first hatched queen is without rivals in the hive, and that

swarming is over, in that stock, for the season.

The second swarm usually issues on the second or third day after this

sound is heard: although I have known them to delay coming out, until

the fifth day, in consequence of a very unfavorable state of the

weather. Occasionally, the weather is so unfavorable, that the bees

permit the oldest queen to kill the others, and refuse to swarm again.

This is a rare occurrence, as the young queens, unlike the old ones, do

not appear to be very particular about the weather, and sometimes

venture out, not merely when it is cloudy, but even when rain is

falling. On this account, if a very close watch is not kept, they are

often lost. As piping ordinarily commences about eight or nine days

after first swarming, the second swarm generally issues ten or twelve

days after the first. It has been known to issue as early as the third

day after the first, and as late as the seventeenth. Such cases,

however, are of rare occurrence. It frequently happens in the agitation

of swarming, that several of the young queens emerge from their cells at

the same time, and accompany the colony: when this is the case, the bees

often alight in two or more separate clusters. Young queens not having

their ovaries burdened with eggs, are much more quick on the wing, than

old ones, and fly frequently much farther from the parent stock, before

they alight; though I never knew a second swarm to depart to the woods

without clustering at all. After the departure of a second swarm, the

oldest of the remaining queens leaves her cell; and if another swarm is

to be sent forth, piping will still be heard, and so before the issue of

each swarm after the first. I once had five stocks issue from one swarm,

and they all came out in about two weeks. In warm latitudes more than

twice this number of swarms have been known to issue in one season from

a single stock. The third swarm commonly makes its appearance on the

second or third day after the second swarm, and the others, at intervals

of about a day.

After-swarms, or casts, (these names are given to all swarms after the

first,) reduce very seriously the strength of the parent stock; for

after the departure of the old queen, no more eggs are deposited in the

cells, until all swarming is over. It is a very wise arrangement that

the second swarm does not ordinarily issue until all the eggs left by

the first queen are hatched, and the young fed and sealed over, so as to

require no further care. The departure of the second swarm earlier than

this, would leave too few laborers to attend to the wants of the young

bees. As it is, if the weather after swarming, suddenly becomes chilly,

and the hives are thin and admit too much air, the bees are too much

reduced in numbers, to maintain the heat requisite for the proper

development of the brood, and numbers are destroyed.

In the Chapter on Artificial Swarming, I shall discuss the effect of too

frequent swarming, on the profits of the Apiary. If the bee-keeper

desires to have no casts, he can, by the use of my hives, very easily,

prevent their issue. As soon as the first swarm is hived, the parent

stock may be opened, and all the queen cells except one removed. How

much better this is, than to attempt to return the after-swarms to the

parent hive, can only be appreciated by one who has thoroughly tried

both plans. If the Apiarian desires the most rapid multiplication of

colonies possible, where natural swarming is relied on, full directions

will be furnished, in the sequel, for building up all after-swarms,

however small, into vigorous stocks. It will be remembered that both the

parent stock from which the swarm issues, and all the colonies except

the first, have a young queen. These queens never leave the hive for

impregnation, until after they have been established as the acknowledged

heads of independent families. They generally go out for this purpose,

the first pleasant day after they are thus acknowledged, early in the

afternoon, at which hour the drones are flying in the greatest numbers.

On first leaving their hive, they always fly with their heads turned

towards it, and enter and depart often several times before they finally

soar up into the air. Such precautions on the part of a young queen, are

highly necessary that she may not mistake her own hive on her return,

and lose her life by attempting to enter that of another colony.

Mistakes of this kind are frequently made when the hives stand near, and

closely resemble each other, and are fatal, not only to the queen, but

to her whole colony. In the new hive there is no brood at all, and in

the old one it is too far advanced towards maturity to answer for

raising new queens. Such calamities, in my hive, admit of a very easy

remedy, as I shall show in the Chapter on the Loss of the Queen.

To guard the young queen against such frequent mistakes, I paint the

covered fronts of my hives, with the alighting boards, and blocks

guarding the entrance, of different colors. This answers the same

purpose as to paint the whole surface of the boxes, some of one color,

and some of another. The only proper color for a hive when exposed to

the weather, is a perfect white; any shade of color will absorb the heat

of the sun, so as to warp the wood-work of the hive, besides exposing

the bees to a pent and suffocating heat.

When a young queen leaves the hive for the purpose above mentioned, the

bees, on missing her, are often filled with alarm, and rush from the

hive, just as though they were intending to swarm. Their agitation soon

calms down, if she returns to them in safety. I shall give through the

medium of the Latin tongue, some statements which are important only to

the scientific naturalist, and entomologist.

Post coitum fucus statim perit. Penis ejectio, ut ego comperi, lenem

compressionem fuci ventris, consequitur; et fucus extemplo similis

fulmine tacto, moritur. Dominus Huber sæpe videbat fuci organum post

congressum, in corpore feminæ hæsisse. Vidi semel tam firme inhærens, ut

nisi disruptione reginæ ventris, non possim divellere.

The queen commences laying eggs, about two days after impregnation, and

for the first season, lays none but the eggs of workers; no males being

needed in colonies which will throw no swarm till another season. It is

seldom until after she has commenced replenishing the cells with eggs,

that she is treated with any special attention by the bees; although if

deprived of her before this time, they show, by their despair, that they

thoroughly comprehended her vast importance to their welfare.

I shall now give such practical directions for the easy hiving of

swarms, as will, I trust, greatly facilitate the whole operation, not

merely to the novice, but even to many experienced bee-keepers; and I

shall try to make these directions sufficiently minute, to guide those

who having never seen a swarm hived, are very apt to imagine that the

process must be a formidable one, instead of being, as it usually is to

those who are fond of bees, a most delightful entertainment. Experience

in this, as in other things, will speedily give the requisite skill and

confidence; and the cry of "the bees are swarming," will soon be hailed

with greater pleasure than an invitation to the most sumptuous banquet.

The hives for the new swarms should all be in readiness before the

swarming season begins, and should be painted long enough beforehand, to

have the paint most thoroughly dried. The smell of fresh paint is well

known to be exceedingly injurious to human beings, and is such an

abomination to the bees, that they will often desert a new hive sooner

than put up with it. If the hives cannot be painted in ample season,

then such paints should be used, as contain no white lead, and they

should be mixed in such a manner as to dry as quickly as possible. Thin

hives ought never to stand in the sun, and then, when heated to an

insufferable degree, be used for a new swarm. Bees often refuse to enter

such hives at all, and at best, are very slow in taking possession of

them. It should be borne in mind, that bees, when they swarm, are

greatly excited, and unnaturally heated. The temperature of the hive, at

the moment of swarming, rises very suddenly, and many of the bees are

often drenched with such a profuse perspiration that they are unable to

take wing and join the departing colony. The attempt to make bees enter

a heated hive in a blazing sun, is as irrational as it would be to try

to force a panting crowd of human beings into the suffocating atmosphere

of a close garret. If bees are to be put in hives through which the

heat of the sun can penetrate, the process should be accomplished in the

shade, or if this cannot conveniently be done, the hive should be

covered with a sheet, or shaded with leafy boughs. If a hive with my

movable frames is used, these should all be furnished, or at least,

every other one, with a small piece of worker-comb, attached to the

center of the frame, with melted wax or rosin. Without such a guide

comb, the bees will almost always work some of the combs out of the true

direction, and this will interfere with their easy removal. A sheet of

comb, not larger than five inches square, will answer for all the frames

of one hive. If even so small a piece of comb as this cannot be

procured, let a thin line of melted wax be drawn, lengthwise, over the

middle of each frame, and let the colony be examined, on the second day

after hiving, and all the frames which contain irregular comb, be

removed. This comb may be cut off, and attached so as to serve as a

proper guide to the bees. The possession of six frames containing good

worker comb, and wrought with perfect accuracy, may be made by the

following device, to answer a most admirable end. Put them into a hive

with six empty frames; first a frame with comb, then an empty one, &c.

After the bees have had possession of this hive two or three days, visit

them, and very politely inform them that the full frames were intended

as a loan, and not as a gift; and that having served to set them an

example how they should work, you must now have them to teach other

young swarms the same useful lesson; and that the new combs which they

have built with such admirable regularity, are beautiful patterns for

the empty ones which you must give them. In this way, the same combs may

be made to answer for many successive swarms.

Drone combs should never be attached to the frames as a guide, unless it

is desired to have the bees follow the pattern, and build large ranges

of drone comb, to breed a vast horde of useless consumers. Such comb, if

white, may be used to great advantage in the surplus honey-boxes; if old

and discolored, it should be melted for wax. I am now engaged in a

course of experiments, which I hope, will enable me to dispense with the

necessity of guide-combs for my frames, as they are sometimes difficult

to be procured by those who have just commenced bee-keeping. As a

general thing, however, every one, after a few weeks' experience, may

have enough and to spare, for such purposes. Every piece of good

worker-comb, if large enough to be attached to a frame, should be used

both for its intrinsic value, and because bees are so wonderfully

pleased when they find such unexpected treasures in a hive, that they

will seldom desert it. A new swarm has been known to take possession of

an old hive without any occupants, but well stored with comb. Though

dozens of empty hives may be in the Apiary, they never unless under such

circumstances, enter a hive, of their own accord. It might seem as

though an instinct impelling them to do so, would have been a most

admirable one, and so doubtless, it may seem to some that it would have

been much better for man, if the earth had only brought forth

spontaneously all things requisite for the support of man and beast,

without any necessity for the sweat of the brow. The first and last

frames in my hive, are placed about a quarter of an inch from the ends,

and the others just half an inch apart. When first put in, it will be

advisable to attach them slightly with a very little glue or melted wax,

to keep them in their places, until they are fastened with propolis, by

the bees. The rubbing of hives with various kinds of herbs or washes,

has always seemed to me, useless, and often positively injurious. There

ought always to be some small trees near the hives, on which the swarms

can cluster, and from which they can be easily gathered. If there are

none, limbs of trees about six feet high, (evergreens are best,) may be

fastened into the ground, a few rods in front of the hives, and they

will answer a very good temporary purpose. It will inspire the

inexperienced Apiarian with much greater confidence, to remember that

almost all the bees in a swarm, have filled themselves with honey,

before leaving the parent stock, and are therefore in a very peaceable

mood. If he is at all timid, or liable, as some are, to suffer severely

from the sting of a single bee, he should, by all means, furnish himself

with the protection of a bee-dress. (See Bee-Dress.)

I shall, in another place, give the best remedies for the relief of a

sting. As soon as the bees have quietly clustered around their queen,

preparation should be made to hive them without any unnecessary delay.

The headlong haste of some Apiarians, which, by throwing them into a

profuse perspiration, renders them very liable to be stung, is

altogether unnecessary. The very fact that the bees have clustered,

after leaving the parent stock, is almost equivalent to a certainty that

they will not leave, for at least one or two hours. All convenient

despatch should be used, however, lest other colonies issue before the

first one is hived, and attempt to add themselves, as they frequently

do, to the first swarm. The proper course to be pursued, in such a case,

will be subsequently explained. If my hives are used, the entrance on

the whole front must be opened, so that the bees may have every chance

to enter as rapidly as possible; and a sheet must be fastened to the

alighting-board, to keep the bees from being separated from each other

or soiled by dirt, for a bee thoroughly covered with dust or dirt, is

almost sure to perish. Unless the bees cluster at a considerable

distance from the place where they are intended to be permanently

stationed, the new hive which receives them may stand on the Protector

in its proper place, with the sheet tacked or pinned to the

alighting-board, and spread out over the mound in front of the entrance.

If the common hives are used, they must generally be carried to the

swarm, and propped up on the sheet, so as to give the bees a free

admission. When the bees alight where they can be easily reached from

the ground, the limb on which they have clustered, should, with one

hand, be shaken, so that they may gently fall into a basket held under

them, by the other. If the basket is sufficiently open to admit the air

freely, and not so open as to allow the bees to get through the sides,

it will answer all the better. The bees should now be carried very

slowly to their new home, and be gently shaken, or poured out, on the

sheet, in front of it. If they seem at all reluctant to enter, take up a

few of them in a large spoon, (a cup will answer equally well,) and

shake them close to the entrance. As they go in, they will fan with

their wings, and raise a peculiar note, which communicates the joyful

news that they have found a home, to the rest of their companions; and

in a short time, the whole swarm will enter, and they are thus safely

hived, without injury to a single bee. When bees are once shaken down on

the sheet, the great mass of them are very unwilling to take wing again;

for they are loaded with honey, and like heavily armed troops, they

desire to march slowly and sedately to the place of encampment. If the

sheet hangs in folds, or is not stretched out, so as to present an

uninterrupted surface, they are often greatly confused, and take a long

time to find the entrance to the hive. If it is desired to have them

enter sooner than they are sometimes inclined to do, they may be gently

separated, with a feather, or leafy twig, when they cluster in bunches

on the sheet. On first shaking them down into the basket, multitudes

will again take wing, and multitudes more will be left on the tree, but

they will speedily form a line of communication with those on the sheet,

and enter the hive with them; for many of them will follow the Apiarian,

as he slowly carries the basket to the hive.

It sometimes happens that the queen is left on the tree: in this case,

the bees will either refuse to enter the hive, or if they go in, will

speedily come out, and all take wing again, to join their queen. This

happens much more frequently in the case of after-swarms, whose young

queens, instead of exhibiting the gravity of the old matron, are apt to

be constantly flying about, and frisking in the air. When the bees

cluster again on the tree, the process of hiving must be repeated.

If the Apiarian has a pair of sharp pruning-shears, and the limb on

which the bees have clustered, is of no value, and so small, that it can

be cut without jarring them off, this may be done, and the bees carried

on it and then shaken off on the sheet.

If the bees settle too high to be easily reached, the basket should be

fastened to a pole, and raised directly under the swarm; a quick motion

of the basket will cause the mass of the bees to fall into it, when it

may be carried to the hive, and the bees poured out from it on the

sheet.

If the bees light on the trunk of a tree, or any thing from which they

cannot easily be gathered in a basket, place a leafy bough over them,

(it may be fastened with a gimlet,) and if they do not mount it of their

own accord, a little smoke will compel them to do so. If the place is

inaccessible, and this is about the worst case that occurs, they will

enter a basket well shaded by cotton cloth fastened around it, and

elevated so as to rest with its open top sideways to the mass of the

bees. When small trees, or limbs fastened into the ground, are placed

near the hives, and there are no large trees near, there will seldom be

found any difficulty in hiving swarms. If two swarms light together, I

advise that they should be put into one hive, and abundant room at once

be given them, for storing surplus honey. This can always be readily

done in my hives. Large quantities of honey are generally obtained from

such stocks, if the season is favorable, and they have issued early. If

it is desired to separate them, place in each of the hives which is to

receive them, a comb containing brood and eggs, from which, in case of

necessity, a new queen may be raised. Shake a portion of the bees in

front of each hive, sprinkling them thoroughly, both before and after

they are shaken out from the basket, so that they will not take wing to

unite again. If possible, secure the queens, so that one may be given to

each hive. If this cannot be done, the hives should be examined the next

day, and if the two queens entered the same hive, one will have killed

the other, and the queenless hive will be found building royal cells. It

should be supplied with a sealed queen nearly mature, taken from another

hive, not only to save time, but to prevent them from filling their hive

with comb unfit for the rearing of workers. (See Artificial Swarming.)

Of course, this cannot be done with the common hives, and if the

Apiarian does not succeed in getting a queen for each hive, the

queenless one will refuse to stay, and will go back to the old stock.

The old-fashioned way of hiving bees, by mounting trees, cutting and

lowering down large limbs, (often to the injury of valuable trees,) and

placing the hive over the bees, frequently crushing large numbers, and

endangering the life of the queen, should be entirely abandoned. A

swarm may be hived in the proper way with far less risk and trouble, and

in much less time. In large Apiaries managed on the swarming plan, where

a number of swarms come out on the same day, and there is constant

danger of their mixing,[16] the speedy hiving of swarms is an object of

great importance. If the new hive does not stand where it is to remain

for the season, it should be removed to its permanent stand as soon as

the bees have entered; for if allowed to remain to be removed in the

evening, or early next morning, the scouts which have left the cluster,

in search of a hollow tree, will find the bees when they return, and

will often entice them from the hive. There is the greater danger of

this, if the bees have remained on the tree, a considerable time before

they were hived. I have invariably found that swarms which abandon a

suitable hive for the woods, have been hived near the spot where they

clustered, and allowed to remain to be moved in the evening. If the bees

swarm early in the day, they will generally begin to work in a few

hours (or in less time, if they have empty comb,) and many more may be

lost by returning next day to the place where they were hived, than

would be lost, by removing them as soon as they have entered; in this

latter case, the few that are on the wing, will generally be able to

find the hive if it is slowly moved to its permanent stand.

If the Apiarian wishes to secure the queen, the bees should be shaken

from the hiving basket, about a foot from the entrance to the hive, and

if a careful look-out is kept, she will generally be seen as she passes

over the sheet, to the entrance. Care must be taken to brush the bees

back from the entrance when they press forward in such dense masses that

the queen is likely to enter unnoticed. An experienced eye readily

catches a glance of her peculiar form and color. She may be taken up

without danger, as she never stings, unless engaged in combat with

another queen. As it will sometimes happen, even to careful bee-keepers,

that swarms will come off when no suitable hives are in readiness to

receive them, I shall show what may be done in such an emergency. Take

any old hive, box, cask, or measure, and hive the bees in it, placing

them with suitable protection against the sun, where their new hive is

to stand; when this is ready, they may, by a quick jerking motion, be

easily shaken out on a sheet, and hived in it, just as though they were

shaken from the hiving basket. If they are to remain in the temporary

hive over the second day, they ought to be shaken out on a sheet, and

after their comb is taken from them, allowed to enter it again, or else

there will be danger of crushing the queen by the weight of the comb.

I have endeavored, even at the risk of being tedious, to give such

specific directions as will qualify the novice to hive a swarm of bees,

under almost any circumstances; for I know the necessity of such

directions and how seldom they are to be met with, even in large

treatises on Bee-Keeping. Vague or imperfect directions always fail,

just at the moment that the inexperienced attempt to put them into

practice.

Before leaving this subject, I will add to the directions for hiving

already given, a method which I have practiced with good success.

When the situation of the bees does not admit of the basket being easily

elevated to them, the bee-keeper may carry it with him to the cluster,

and then after shaking the bees into it, may lower it down by a string,

to an assistant standing below.

That Natural Swarming may, with suitable hives, be made highly

profitable, I cannot for a moment question. As it is the most simple and

obvious way of multiplying colonies, and the one which requires the

least amount of knowledge or skill, it will undoubtedly, for many years

at least, be the favorite method with a large number of bee-keepers. I

have therefore, been careful to furnish suitable directions for its

successful practice; and before I discuss the question of Artificial

Increase, I shall show how it may be more profitably conducted than ever

before; many of the most embarrassing difficulties in the way of its

successful management being readily obviated by the use of my hives.

1. The common hives fail to furnish adequate protection in Winter,

against cold, and those sudden changes to unseasonable warmth, by which

bees are tempted to come out and perish in large numbers on the snow;

and the colonies are thus prevented from breeding on a large scale, as

early as they otherwise would. Under such circumstances, they can make

no profitable use of the early honey-harvest; and they will swarm so

late, if they swarm at all, as to have but little opportunity for

laying up surplus honey, while often they do not gather enough even for

their own use, and their owner closes the season by purchasing honey to

preserve them from starvation. The way in which I give the bees that

amount of protection in Winter, which conduces most powerfully to early

swarming, has already been described in the Chapter on Protection.

2. Another serious objection to all the ordinary swarming hives, is the

vexatious fact that if the bees swarm at all, they are liable to swarm

so often as to destroy the value of both the parent stock and the

after-swarms. Experienced bee-keepers obviate this difficulty, by

uniting second swarms, so as to make one good colony out of two; and

they return to the parent stock all swarms after the second, and even

this if the season is far advanced. Such operations consume much time,

and often give much more trouble than they are worth. By removing all

the queen cells but one, after the first swarm has left, second swarming

in my hives will always be prevented; and by removing all but two,

provision may be made for the issue of second swarms, and yet all

after-swarming be prevented. The process of returning after-swarms is

not only objectionable, on account of the time it requires, having often

to be repeated again and again before one queen is allowed to destroy

the others; but it also causes a large portion of the gathering season

to be wasted; for the bees seem unwilling to work with energy, so long

as the pretensions of several rival queens are unsettled.

3. Another very serious objection to Natural Swarming, as practiced with

the common hives, is the inability of the Apiarian who wishes rapidly to

multiply his colonies, to aid his late and small swarms, so as to build

them up into vigorous stocks. The time and money which are ordinarily

spent upon small colonies, are almost always thrown away; by far the

larger portion of them never survive the Winter, and the majority of

those that do, are so enfeebled, as to be of little or no value. If they

escape being robbed by stronger stocks, or destroyed by the moth, they

seldom recruit in season to swarm, and very often the feeding must be

repeated, the second Fall, or they will at last perish. I doubt not that

many of my readers will, from their own experience, endorse every word

of these remarks, as true to the very letter. All who have ever

attempted to multiply colonies by nursing and feeding small swarms, on

the ordinary plans, have found it attended with nothing but loss and

vexation. The more a man has of such stocks, the poorer he is: for by

their weakness, they are constantly tempting his strong swarms to evil

courses; so that at last, they prefer to live as far as they can, by

stealing, rather than by habits of honest industry; and if the feeble

colonies escape being plundered, they often become mere nurseries for

raising a plentiful supply of moths, to ravage his whole Apiary.

I have already shown, in what way by the use of my hives, the smallest

swarms that ever issue, may be so managed as to become powerful stocks.

In the same way the Apiarian can easily strengthen all his colonies

which are feeble in Spring.

4. As the loss of the young queens in the parent stock after it has

swarmed, and in the after-swarms, is a very common occurrence, a hive

which like mine, furnishes the means of easily remedying this

misfortune, will greatly promote the success of those who practice

natural swarming. A very intelligent bee-keeper once assured me, that he

must use at least one such hive in his Apiary, for this purpose, even if

in other respects it possessed no superior merits.

5. Bees, as is well known, often refuse to swarm at all, and most of the

swarming hives are so constructed, that proper accommodations for

storing honey, cannot be furnished to the super-abundant population.

Under such circumstances, they often hang for several months, in black

masses on the outside of the hive; and are worse than useless, as they

consume the honey which the others have gathered. In my hives, an

abundance of room for storing honey can always be given them, _not all

at once_, so as to prevent them from swarming, but by degrees, as their

necessities require: so that if they are indisposed, for any reason to

swarm, they may have suitable receptacles easily accessible, and

furnished with guide comb to make them more attractive, in which to

store up any amount of honey that they can possibly collect.

6. In the common hives, but little can be done to dislodge the bee-moth,

when once it has gained the mastery of the bees; whereas in mine, it can

be most effectually rooted out when it has made a lodgment. (See Remarks

on Bee-Moth.)

7. In the common hives, nothing can be done except with great

difficulty, to remove the old queen when her fertility is impaired;

whereas in my hives, (as will be shown in the Chapter on Artificial

Swarming,) this can easily be effected, so that an Apiary may constantly

contain a stock of young queens, in the full vigor of their

re-productive powers.

I trust that these remarks will convince intelligent Apiarians, that I

have not spoken boastfully or at random, in asserting that natural

swarming can be carried on with much greater certainty and success, by

the use of my hives, than in any other way; and that they will see that

many of the most perplexing embarrassments and mortifying

discouragements under which they have hitherto prosecuted it, may be

effectually remedied.

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Dr. Scudamore, an English physician who has written a small tract

on the formation of artificial swarms, says that he once knew "as many

as ten swarms go forth at once, and settle and mingle together, forming

literally a monster meeting!" Instances are on record of a much larger

number of swarms clustering together. A venerable clergyman, in Western

Massachusetts, related to me the following remarkable occurrence. In the

Apiary of one of his parishioners, five swarms lit in one mass. As there

was no hive which would hold them, a very large box was roughly nailed

together, and the bees were hived in it. They were taken up by sulphur

in the Fall, when it was perfectly evident that the five swarms had

occupied the same box as independent colonies. Four of them had

commenced their works, each one near a corner, and the fifth one in the

middle, and there was a distinct interval separating the works of the

different colonies. In Cotton's "My Bee Book," there is a cut

illustrating a hive in which two colonies had built in the same manner.

CHAPTER X.

ARTIFICIAL SWARMING.

The numerous efforts which have been made for the last fifty years or

more, to dispense with natural swarming, plainly indicate the anxiety of

Apiarians to find some better mode of increasing their colonies.

Although I am able to propagate bees by natural swarming, with a

rapidity and certainty unattainable except by the complete control of

all the combs in the hive, still there are difficulties in this mode of

increase, inherent to the system itself, and therefore entirely

incapable of being removed by any kind of hive. Before describing the

various methods which I employ to increase colonies by artificial means,

I shall first enumerate these difficulties, in order that each

individual bee-keeper may decide for himself, in which way he can most

advantageously propagate his bees.

1. The large number of swarms lost every year, is a powerful argument

against natural swarming.

An eminent Apiarian has estimated that one fourth of the best swarms are

lost every season! This estimate can hardly be considered too high, if

all who keep bees are taken into account. While some bee-keepers are so

careful that they seldom lose a swarm, the majority, either from the

grossest negligence, or from necessary hindrances during the swarming

season, are constantly incurring serious losses, by the flight of their

bees to the woods. It is next to impossible, entirely to prevent such

occurrences, if bees are allowed to swarm at all.

2. The great amount of time and labor required by natural swarming, has

always been regarded as a decided objection to this mode of increase.

As soon as the swarming season begins, the Apiary must be closely

watched almost every day, or some of the new swarms will be lost. If

this business is entrusted to thoughtless children, or careless adults,

many swarms will be lost by their neglect. It is very evident that but

few persons who keep bees, can always be on hand to watch them and to

hive the new swarms. But, in the height of the swarming season, if any

considerable number of colonies is kept, the Apiarian, to guard against

serious losses, should either be always on the spot himself, or have

some one who can be entrusted with the care of his bees. Even the

Sabbath cannot be observed as a day of rest; and often, instead of being

able to go to the House of God, the bee-keeper is compelled to labor

among his bees, as hard as on other days, or even harder. That he is as

justifiable in hiving his bees on the Sabbath, as in taking care of his

stock, can admit of no serious doubt; but the very liability of being

called to do so, is with many, a sufficient objection against Apiarian

pursuits.

The merchant, mechanic and professional man, are often so situated that

they would take great interest in bees, if they were not deterred from

their cultivation by inability to take care of them, during the swarming

season; and they are thus debarred from a pursuit, which is intensely

fascinating, not merely to the lover of Nature, but to every one

possessed of an inquiring mind. No man who spends some of his leisure

hours in studying the wonderful habits and instincts of bees, will ever

complain that he can find nothing to fill up his time out of the range

of his business, or the gratification of his appetites. Bees may be kept

with great advantage, even in large cities, and those who are debarred

from every other rural pursuit, may still listen to the soothing hum of

the industrious bee, and harvest annually its delicious nectar.

If the Apiarian could always be on hand during the swarming season, it

would still, in many instances, be exceedingly inconvenient for him to

attend to his bees. How often is the farmer interrupted in the business

of hay-making, by the cry that his bees are swarming; and by the time he

has hived them, perhaps a shower comes up, and his hay is injured more

than his swarm is worth. In this way, the keeping of a few bees, instead

of a source of profit, often becomes rather an expensive luxury; and if

a very large stock is kept, the difficulties and embarrassments are

often most seriously increased. If the weather becomes pleasant after a

succession of days unfavorable for swarming, it often happens that

several swarms rise at once, and cluster together, to the great

annoyance of the Apiarian; and not unfrequently, in the noise and

confusion, other swarms fly off, and are entirely lost. I have seen the

Apiarian so perplexed and exhausted under such circumstances, as to be

almost ready to wish that he had never seen a bee.

3. The managing of bees by natural swarming, must, in our country,

almost entirely prevent the establishment of large Apiaries.

Even if it were possible, in this way, to multiply bees with certainty

and rapidity, and without any of the perplexities which I have just

described, how few persons are so situated as to be able to give almost

the whole of their time in the busiest part of the year, to the

management of their bees. The swarming season is with the farmer, the

very busiest part of the whole year, and if he purposes to keep a large

number of swarming hives, he must not only devote nearly the whole of

his time, for a number of weeks, to their supervision, but at a season

when labor commands the highest price, he will often be compelled to

hire additional assistance.

I have long been convinced that, as a general rule, the keeping of a few

colonies in swarming hives, costs more than they are worth, and that the

keeping of a very large number is entirely out of the question, unless

with those who are so situated that they can afford to devote their

time, for about two months every year, almost entirely to their bees.

The number of persons who can afford to do this must be very small; and

I have seldom heard of a bee-keeper, in our country, who has an Apiary

on a scale extensive enough to make bee-keeping anything more than a

subordinate pursuit. Multitudes have tried to make it a large and

remunerating business, but hitherto, I believe that they have nearly all

been disappointed in their expectations. In such countries as Poland and

Russia where labor is deplorably cheap, it may be done to great

advantage; but never to any considerable extent in our own.

4. A serious objection to natural swarming, is the discouraging fact

that the bees often refuse to swarm at all, and the Apiarian finds it

impossible to multiply his colonies with any certainty or rapidity, even

although he may find himself in all respects favorably situated for the

cultivation of bees, and may be exceedingly anxious to engage in the

business on a much more extensive scale.

I am acquainted with many careful bee-keepers who have managed their

bees according to the most reliable information they could obtain,

never destroying any of their colonies, and endeavoring to multiply them

to the best of their ability, who yet have not as many stocks as they

had ten years ago. Most of them would abandon the pursuit, if they

looked upon bee-keeping simply in the light of dollars and cents, rather

than as a source of pleasant recreation; and some do not hesitate to say

that much more money has been spent, by the mass of those who have used

patent hives, than they have ever realized from their bees.

It is a very simple matter to make calculations on paper, which shall

seem to point out a road to wealth, almost as flattering, as a tour to

the gold mines of Australia or California. Only purchase a patent

bee-hive, and if it fulfills all or even a part of the promises of its

sanguine inventor, a fortune must, in the course of a few years, be

certainly realized; but such are the disappointments resulting from the

bees refusing often to swarm at all, that if the hive could remedy all

the other difficulties in the way of bee-keeping, it would still fail to

answer the reasonable wishes of the experienced Apiarian. If every swarm

of bees could be made to yield a profit of 20 dollars a year, and if the

Apiarian could be sure of selling his new swarms at the most extravagant

prices, he could not, like the growers of mulberry trees, or the

breeders of fancy fowls, multiply his stocks so as to meet the demand,

however extensive; but would be entirely dependent upon the whims and

caprices of his bees; or rather, upon the natural laws which control

their swarming.

Every practical bee-keeper is well aware of the utter uncertainty of

natural swarming. Under no circumstances, can its occurrence be

confidently relied on. While some stocks swarm regularly and repeatedly,

others, strong in numbers and rich in stores, although the season may,

in all respects, be propitious, refuse to swarm at all. Such colonies,

on examination, will often be found to have taken no steps for raising

young queens. In some cases, the wings of the old mother will be found

defective, while in others, she is abundantly able to fly, but seems to

prefer the riches of the old hive, to the risks attending the formation

of a new colony. It frequently happens, in our uncertain climate, that

when all the necessary preparations have been made for swarming, the

weather proves unpropitious for so long a time, that the young queens

coming to maturity before the old one can leave, are all destroyed. This

is a very frequent occurrence, and under such circumstances, swarming is

almost certain to be prevented, for that season. The young queens are

frequently destroyed, even although the weather is pleasant, in

consequence of some sudden and perhaps only temporary suspension of the

honey-harvest; for bees seldom colonize even if all their preparations

are completed, unless the flowers are yielding an abundant supply of

honey.

From these and other causes which my limits will not permit me to

notice, it has hitherto been found impossible, in the uncertain climate

of our Northern States, to multiply colonies very rapidly, by natural

swarming; and bee-keeping, on this plan, offers very poor inducements to

those who are aware how little has been accomplished, even by the most

enthusiastic, experienced and energetic Apiarians.

The numerous perplexities which have ever attended natural swarming,

have for ages, directed the attention of practical cultivators, to the

importance of devising some more reliable method of increasing their

colonies. Columella, who lived about the middle of the first century of

the Christian Era, and who wrote twelve books on husbandry (De re

rustica,) has given directions for making artificial colonies. He says,

"you must examine the hive, and view what honey-combs it has; then

afterwards from the wax which contains the seeds of the young bees, you

must cut away that part wherein the offspring of the royal brood is

animated: for this is easy to be seen; because at the very end of the

wax-works there appears, as it were, a thimble-like process (somewhat

similar to an acorn,) rising higher, and having a wider cavity, than the

rest of the holes, wherein the young bees of vulgar note are contained."

Hyginus, who flourished before Columella, had evidently noticed the

royal jelly; for he speaks of cells larger than those of the common

bees, "filled as it were with a solid substance of a _red color_, out of

which the winged king is at first formed." This ancient observer must

undoubtedly have seen the quince-like jelly, a portion of which is

always found at the base of the royal cells, after the queens have

emerged. The ancients generally called the queen a king, although

Aristotle says that some in his time called her the mother. Swammerdam

was the first to prove by dissection that the queen is a perfect female,

and the only one in the hive, and that the drone is the male.

For reasons which I shall shortly mention, the ancient methods of

artificial increase appear to have met with but small success. Towards

the close of the last century, a new impulse was given to the artificial

production of swarms, by the discovery of Schirach, a German clergyman,

that bees are able to rear a queen from worker-brood. For want, however,

of a more thorough knowledge of some important principles in the economy

of the bee, these efforts met with slender encouragement.

Huber, after his splendid discoveries in the physiology of the bee,

perceived at once, the importance of multiplying colonies by some method

more reliable than that of natural swarming. His leaf or book hive

consisted of 12 frames, each an inch and a half in width; any one of

which could be opened at pleasure. He recommends forming artificial

swarms, by dividing one of these hives into two parts; adding to each

part six empty frames. After using a Huber hive for a number of years, I

became perfectly convinced that it could only be made servicable, by an

adroit, experienced and fearless Apiarian. The bees fasten the frames in

such a manner, with their propolis, that they cannot, except with

extreme care, be opened without jarring the bees, and exciting their

anger; nor can they be shut without constant danger of crushing them.

Huber nowhere speaks of having multiplied colonies extensively by such

hives, and although they have been in use more than sixty years, they

have never been successfully employed for such a purpose. If Huber had

only contrived a plan for suspending his frames, instead of folding them

together like the leaves of a book, I believe that the cause of Apiarian

science would have been fifty years in advance of what it now is.

Dividing hives of various kinds have been used in this country. After

giving some of the best of them a thorough trial, and inventing others

which somewhat resembled the Huber hive, I found that they could not

possibly be made to answer any valuable end in securing artificial

swarms. For a long time I felt that the plan _ought_ to succeed, and it

was not until I had made numerous experiments with my hive substantially

as now constructed, that I ascertained the precise causes of failure.

It may be regarded as one of the laws of the bee-hive, that bees, when

not in possession of a mature queen, seldom build any comb except such

as being designed merely for storing honey, is _too coarse for the

rearing of workers_. Until I became acquainted with the discoveries of

Dzierzon, I supposed myself to be the only observer who had noticed

this remarkable fact, and who had been led by it, to modify the whole

system of artificial swarming. The perusal of Mr. Wagner's manuscript

translation of that author, showed me that he had arrived at precisely