THERMOMETER.
As I have been frequently asked to explain the utility of ventilation
in a hive or colony of Bees, so have I as frequently been asked,
sometimes with civility and politeness, sometimes jeeringly and in
contempt,--"What has the thermometer to do with Bees?" I answer--We
shall see presently; and I trust, see enough to convince the veriest
sceptic on the subject, that the thermometer is an instrument that is
indispensably necessary in the management of Bees according to my plan.
Such inquirers might as reasonably ask what the mainspring of a watch
has to do with the movements of that machine? Without the mainspring
the watch would not work at all; and without the thermometer we cannot
ascertain with any degree of accuracy the interior temperature of the
hive; the knowledge of which temperature is of the utmost consequence in
the humane management of Honey-Bees. The thermometer is the safest, if
not the sole guide to a scientific knowledge of their state and works. To
ventilate an apiary or colony of Bees, when their interior temperature
is under 60 degrees, would be ruinous to them,--because contrary to the
prosperous progress of their natural labours. From upwards of fifteen
hundred observations in the summer of 1825, I am fully satisfied on this
point. Their nature is to keep up at least that, and sometimes a much
higher, degree of temperature by their indefatigable labours; and as the
temperature of the hive rises, so does it invigorate and encourage an
increase of population, as well as an increase of their treasured sweets.
As the hive fills, so will the thermometer rise to 120 and even to 130
degrees, before these worthies will by over-heat be forced to leave their
wealthy home. When the thermometer is at the above height, these wealthy
colonists will have arrived at the highest state of perfection,--wealthy
indeed, every store-house being filled nearly to suffocation with their
abundant treasures, and they, as it were, petitioning the observer of
their too-limited store-house for a fresh room. Thus circumstanced then
give them a fresh room,--accommodate them with such a store-house as
either of my collateral-boxes will and is intended to afford them. _Force
them not to warm:_ an emigration from a prosperous colony of half its
population cannot fail of being very disadvantageous, both to those that
emigrate, who must necessarily be poor, and to those that remain, be they
ever so industrious, or ever so wealthy.
When you discover your thermometer rising rapidly, and, instead of
standing, as it generally does in a well-stocked colony, at about 80
degrees, rising in a few hours to 90, and perhaps to 96, or even to
100, you may conclude that ventilation is _then_ highly necessary. The
more you ventilate, when their temperature gets to this oppressive and
dangerous height, the more you benefit the Bees labouring under it; for
when they find a comfortable temperature within, they enjoy it, and will
proceed to fill every vacant comb.
Nature has provided the Queen of Bees with the power of multiplying her
species, and of providing against any casualty which in so numerous a
state may frequently happen. That all-seeing eye that neither slumbers
nor sleeps, but constantly superintends alike the affairs of insects
and of men, has, doubtless, long beheld the shameful neglect of man,
which is the main cause of the distress of the hive, and which _forces_
it to swarm. Let man, then, remedy the distress and mischief which he
occasions, by _preventing it_. It is the Queen-Bee that emigrates; were
she not to lead, none would lead; nor would any follow were another than
the Queen to lead, to seek and to settle in some place more congenial
to them than an over-heated, over-stocked, though rich hive. She well
knows she cannot live in a state subjected to a suffocating heat, amidst
an overgrown population. So she leaves the royal cradle, impregnated
with the royal larva, and withdraws from the hive, reluctantly, one may
suppose, though accompanied by thousands of her subjects. The Queen-Bee
leads the swarm to seek a place of comfort, and to establish another
home, where not one cell nor drop of honey exists.
To establish the truth of these assertions, and to prove the utility
of ventilation and of the thermometer, in regulating the degree of
ventilation in the management of Bees, I will now give my reader an
account of some interesting experiments that I made in 1826, and then
add a few extracts from my thermometrical journal of that summer; which
in fact guided me in those experiments, for without the assistance of
my thermometer I could not have made them; from which, taken together,
it will, I think, be sufficiently evident that ventilation and the
thermometer are highly necessary,--are alike important,--in short, are
_indispensable_ in the humane management of Honey-bees.
On the 26th of June 1826, I suffered a colony of Bees to swarm, in order
to prove the truth of the foregoing statements. It was a very fine
colony: the thermometer had been standing at 110 for six days previously,
in one of the collateral end-boxes; on the eighth day it rose suddenly to
120. I was then forcing my Bees to leave their home; I could have lowered
their temperature, and by so doing, I could have retained my worthies in
their native boxes: but I was then about to prove a fact of the greatest
moment to apiarians. On the ninth day, at half-past twelve o'clock,
the finest swarm I ever beheld towered above my head, and literally
darkened the atmosphere in the front of my apiary. After remaining about
five minutes in the open air, the Queen perched herself upon a tree in
my garden, where she was exposed to the rays of a scorching sun; but
her loyal subjects quickly surrounded her, and screened her from its
influence. I immediately did what I could to assist my grand prize, by
hanging a sheet before it, to ward off the intense heat of the sun. I
allowed the Bees to hang in this situation until the evening. During the
absence of the swarm from the colony, my full employment was to watch the
parent-stock, in order that I might, in the evening, return the Bees of
this beautiful swarm to their native-hive, which they had been forced to
leave. Curiosity and a desire to solve a doubtful problem, for the good
of future apiarians, led me to act as already related, at the expense
of much inconvenience to the Bees. The remaining Honey-Bees continued
labouring during the remainder of the day; and in the evening of that
same day, the thermometer was standing at 90 degrees in the old stock; so
that the absence of the swarm had lowered the temperature of the pavilion
30 degrees, and I was quite sure I could reduce it in the collateral
end-box to that of the exterior atmosphere, which, after the sun had gone
down, was only 65.
To effect this, I resolved at once to take off a fine top-glass filled
with honey. I did so: its weight was fourteen pounds. This operation
reduced the interior heat of the colony to 75. But looking at my grand
swarm, and intent as I was upon re-uniting it to the parent-stock, I
thought it impossible for the vacant space conveniently to hold all
the Bees. I had one, and only one, alternative left,--and that was to
take from my colony a collateral-box. I therefore took it; and a most
beautiful box it was: its weight was fifty pounds. I immediately placed
an empty box in the situation the full one had occupied. I then drew
from the side of the pavilion the dividing tin-slide, and the whole of
the colony was shortly at the desired temperature of 65, that being the
exterior heat of the evening. I was now fully convinced of the propriety
of returning the swarm. I commenced operations for accomplishing that
object at ten o'clock in the evening, by constructing a temporary stage
near the mouth of the parent-stock. I then procured a white sheet, and
laid it upon the table or temporary stage, and in a moment struck the
swarm from the hive into which the Bees had been taken from the bough
in the evening. My next difficulty was to imprison the sovereign of
the swarm: but with a little labour I succeeded in discovering her, and
made her my captive. No sooner was she my prisoner than the Bees seemed
to be acquainted with her absence. But so near were they placed to the
mouth of the parent-stock that they soon caught the odour of the hive,
and in the space of about fifteen minutes the whole swarm, save only her
majesty, were under the roof of their parent-home. The following morning
increased my anxiety about the welfare of my stock. Fearful lest my
carious anticipations should meet with a disappointment, at sun-rise in
the morning I released from her imprisonment the captive Queen. I placed
her on the front-board, near the entrance of her hive, to ascertain, if
possible, whether there was within the state one greater than herself.
But no visible sign of such being the case presented itself. The
influence of the cheery sun soon caused her to move her majestic body to
the entrance of her native domicil, where she was met, surrounded, and no
doubt welcomed, by thousands of her subjects, who soon conducted her into
the hive, and, it may be presumed, re-instated her on the throne, which a
few hours before she had been compelled to abdicate. The Bees afterwards
sallied forthwith extraordinary alacrity and regularity, and, beyond my
most sanguine expectations, filled a large glass with honey in the short
space of six days. That glass of honey was exhibited at the National
Repository, with a model of my apiary, and was much admired by many of
the members and visitors of that noble institution.
I have now to remark, that during the nine days after the swarm had
been returned to the parent-stock, the thermometer continued rising
until it reached the temperature of 90 within the collateral-box; and
on the tenth day, at five o'clock in the morning, I witnessed the grand
secret,--I viewed with unutterable delight the extraordinary fact I had
been endeavouring to ascertain,--viz.--_two royal nymphs laid prostrate
on the alighting-board_, near the exterior entrance of the hive. This
circumstance alone convinced me that no more swarming was necessary.
I have further to notice, that on the third day afterwards the Bees
commenced their destruction of the drones,--which was a satisfactory
proof that I had gained my point. That colony has never swarmed since
the period I thus first satisfactorily established the utility of
ventilation. And on minutely attending to the extraordinary movements
of this my favourite colony, it was not uncommon to notice the most
infant appearance of the royal brood lying upon the front-board of the
pavilion. So that I am well satisfied that the royal larva is always in
existence in the hive, independently of the reigning Queen. Let me not
be misunderstood; I do not mean by this expression to assert--that the
royal larva exists in the hive without the instrumentality or agency of
the reigning Queen;--far from it; for no common Bees can make a sovereign
Bee without the egg from the royal body: what I do mean is--that the
royal larva is always in existence in a colony of Bees, notwithstanding
the existence and presence of a reigning Queen--that the Queen is there,
and that the royal larva is there at the same time. In this the wisdom
of Providence is manifest; for Nature has _thus_ provided that the
royal cradle should contain the royal brood, that in case any accident,
misfortune, casualty, or necessity, should occasion the absence of the
reigning Queen, another may be brought forth. This larva in reserve, as
it were, is protected and reared by the inhabitants with the utmost
care, nay, in the absence of the Queen, it is almost worshipped, until
it becomes sufficiently matured to take the office and fulfil the duties
of its royal predecessor; of course it then reigns supreme,--it is
then Queen absolute. On this point I not only coincide in opinion with
Thorley, but have seen enough in the course of my experience among Bees
to confirm the truth of what I have now stated. As, however, the further
discussion of this nice point belongs to the natural history of the Bee
rather than to the explanation and inculcation of my practical mode of
Bee-management, I refrain from saying more upon it, lest by so doing
I should inadvertently excite criticism and controversy. I therefore
proceed with my proper subject.
The following thermometrical observations are from the journal before
mentioned. The first column gives the day of the month,--the second shows
the hour of the day when the thermometer was examined,--and the third is
its height at those several times in the colony of Bees upon which my
experiments were so successfully made.
1826. At this state of the Thermometer
April Hour Ther. it is highly necessary
to remove your Bees to their
1 8 38 summer stand. A great decrease
-- 12 46 of wealth in the hive will appear
2 8 38 daily under this temperature;
-- 12 43 and feeding should be resorted
3 8 32 to until it rise to 50: and if
-- 12 37 _moderate feeding_ be continued
4 12 37 until the interior temperature
5 37 reach 55, it will materially
6 37 strengthen and invigorate your
7 37 Bees. And as the thermometer
8 8 40 continues to rise, you will find
-- 12 45 your hive improve. It will soon
9 8 46 be in a good state for the spring.
10 12 58 Considerable improvements in
11 6 46 the combs, and immense gathering
-- 10 58 of farina, appear to occupy
12 9 52 the Bees at this time.
-- 1 64
13 12 64 The enemies of Bees are
14 64 numerous and active in this
15 64 month. As much as possible
16 64 guard against their attacks, and
17 64 be careful to defend your Bees
18 8 54 against them. At all times keep
19 12 60 their floor-boards clean; and
20 56 now withdraw the dead Bees, if
21 12 58 there should appear to be any
22 50 lying on the floor-boards or
23 52 other stands. This will save
24 60 the live Bees much labour, and
25 65 may be done very easily.
26 70
27 74
28 68
29 74
30 70
May Hour Ther. Swarming may be expected in
1 5 42 this month if the hives be rich
-- 9 58 and the season favourable. To
-- 12 70 prevent which enlarge your
2 5 41 hives, by adding three or four
-- 8 48 rounds, i. e. an eke, to the
-- 12 60 bottom of each of them.
3 5 43
-- 12 56 If you have the collateral-box
4 7 51 hives, you need only draw up
5 7 52 the tin-slides, or one of them,
-- 4 52 as occasion may require. By
6 7 46 this means you enlarge the Bees'
-- 1 63 domicil, without admitting the
7 5 42 atmospheric air. This move
8 12 60 so pleases these indefatigable
9 1 78 creatures, that you will behold
10 12 58 at once the utility and humanity
11 12 54 of this mode of management.
12 12 62
13 12 72
14 12 70
-- 1 75
15 5 43
-- 12 70
-- 2 74
16 12 70 Should the weather be seasonable,
17 12 68 the boxes will now be filled
18 8 58 rapidly, and the thermometer
19 8 50 will rise quickly. At this period
-- 12 70 ventilation will demonstrate
20 8 58 what has hitherto been a secret
-- 12 60 of nature;--viz. many young
21 8 54 sovereigns in various states of
-- 12 62 perfection will be seen daily cast
-- 2 58 out of the hives: and the waxen
22 8 54 cells will be extended to the
-- 12 62 remotest corners of their domicil.
-- 2 58
23 7 50 Riches are now rapidly accumulated:
-- 12 62 and the glasses filled
-- 2 70 with the purest sweets. Small
24 7 50 glasses may be taken off from
-- 12 68 the inverted-hives, if the weather
-- 2 72 prove fine.
25 5 60
-- 8 62 Mem.--A glass of honey, weighing
-- 11 64 12 lbs. and a collateral-box,
-- 12 70 weighing 42 lbs. taken.
-- 3 71
26 7 58 After taking the above treasure
-- 10 74 from the collateral-hive,
-- 1 80 and placing an empty glass and
-- 4 73 an empty box in the places of
27 6 61 those taken off, the interior
-- 10 74 temperature was reduced to 60
-- 12 84 degrees, while the atmosphere
-- 2 82 was 56 at twelve o'clock at
-- 4 80 night.
-- 5 70
28 6 60
-- 12 68 The pure honey taken was
-- 2 68 about one-fourth of the weight
-- 3 70 of the hive, and it will be
-- 8 61 observed that the heat shows a
29 5 60 decrease in the temperature of
-- 10 64 one fourth.
-- 1 76
-- 7 66
-- 9 64
30 6 60
-- 8 64
-- 9 74
-- 12 78
31 6 61
-- 12 74
-- 2 78
-- 4 76
June Hour Ther.
1 7 62
-- 12 76
2 6 62
-- 12 78
-- 5 76
3 6 60 Mem.--A collateral-box of
-- 12 76 honey, weighing 56 lbs. and a
-- 5 74 glass on the 10th, weighing 14-1/2
4 6 60 lbs. taken.
-- 12 74
-- 3 78
5 6 54
-- 12 68
6 6 58
-- 12 66
-- 3 62
7 6 54
-- 2 62
-- 4 64
8 6 52
-- 12 56
-- 4 52
9 7 54
-- 12 74
-- 2 80
10 6 60
-- 12 74
-- 3 72
11 6 60
-- 12 70
-- 3 76
-- 4 78
-- 9 70
12 6 64 Mem.--A collateral-box,
-- 12 74 weighing 60 lbs. and
-- 2 82 another, weighing 52 lbs.
13 6 60 taken.
-- 10 82
-- 12 90
14 6 64
-- 12 84
-- 2 88 --------------------------
-- 4 86
15 7 66
-- 10 70
-- 3 88
-- 6 80 24 7 66
17 12 70 -- 8 82
-- 3 88 -- 3 90
-- 9 68 25 6 70
18 6 66 -- 10 90
-- 12 70 -- 12 94
-- 2 76 26 7 86
19 6 60 -- 11 94
-- 12 70 -- 5 91
-- 5 66 -- 9 86
20 8 60 27 7 84
-- 12 70 -- 9 90
-- 3 76 -- 1 96
21 7 60 28 6 88
-- 12 70 -- 12 94
-- 3 72 -- 11 90
22 9 70 29 6 86
-- 12 70 -- 12 94
-- 3 65 -- 2 96
23 6 70 -- 7 91
-- 12 75 30 5 90
-- 3 82 -- 12 96
-- 6 76 -- 4 84
July Hour Ther.
1 6 94 If the pasturage for Bees begin
-- 12 96 to fail in your neighbourhood
-- 4 94 at this time, it is advisable, if
-- 7 94 it be practicable, to remove your
2 6 94 colonies to a better and a more
-- 12 96 profitable situation. You will be
-- 6 94 richly rewarded for this attention
-- 10 94 to the prosperity of your apiary.
3 6 94
-- 12 96
-- 6 94
-- 10 90 --------------------------------
4 6 92
-- 12 94 July Hour Ther.
-- 6 90 14 6 76
5 6 90 -- 12 78
-- 12 92 -- 6 76
-- 6 90 15 6 74
7 6 90 -- 12 76
-- 12 92 -- 6 78
-- 6 92 16 6 78
-- 10 92 -- 12 86
8 7 92 -- 6 86
-- 12 92 -- 10 80
-- 6 90 17 6 78
-- 11 90 -- 10 78
9 6 88 -- 12 80
-- 12 92 18 6 76
-- 3 82 -- 12 80
-- 10 80 -- 6 78
10 6 78 -- 10 76
-- 12 80 19 6 76
-- 6 82 -- 12 80
11 6 80 -- 6 74
-- 12 84 -- 10 74
-- 6 86 20 6 68
-- 10 90 -- 12 70
12 6 86 -- 6 70
-- 12 80 -- 10 70
-- 6 76 21 6 66
-- 10 74 -- 12 68
13 6 74 -- 4 64
-- 12 76
-- 6 76
Summary of memorandums of the several deprivations or takings of honey
from one set of boxes this season:
May 27. Glass and box 54 lbs.
June 9. Box 56 ..
---- 10. Glass 14-1/2 ..
---- 12. Box 60 ..
---- 13. Ditto 52 ..
Collateral-box 60 ..
--------
296-1/2 lbs.
Did I deem it necessary, I could, from the letters of a variety of
highly respectable correspondents, show that the mode of managing Bees
in the way, and upon the principles, now explained, has been adopted,
and _has succeeded_ even beyond the most sanguine expectations of many
of my worthy friends and patrons; but I will content myself at present
with giving the two following letters, which I have just received from
a gentleman in this neighbourhood, whose very name, to all who have any
knowledge of or acquaintance with him, will be a sufficient guarantee
that his statements are facts. Besides, his letters are a condensed, and
I must say--clever epitome of my practical directions for the management
of Bees in my boxes, and may be useful on that account; and moreover, I
have, as will be seen presently, his unsolicited authority to make them
public, and therefore run no risk of being called to order for so doing.
"Gedney-Hill, 13th July, 1832.
"Dear Sir,
"You will, I am persuaded, excuse me for troubling you with the
information that I yesterday took off a fine glass of honey from one of
my Bee-colonies. I went to work secundum artem, that is, in one word,
_scientifically_, or in four words, _according to your directions_; and
I have the satisfaction, nay more,--I have the pleasure to add that
I succeeded--I had almost said _completely_, but I must qualify that
expression by saying, that _I succeeded all but completely_; for one
luckless Bee had the misfortune to be caught between the edges of the
dividing-tin and the glass, and to be crushed to death in consequence.
Excepting that accident, I believe that not one Bee was injured, nor
lost. They left the glass, as soon as I gave them the opportunity of
leaving it, in the most peaceable manner; in a subdued and plaintive
tone they hummed round me,--settled upon me,--crept over me in all
directions,--but not one of them stung me; in short, they returned to
their home without manifesting the slightest symptoms of resentment, and
in less than half an hour from the commencement of the operation, _there
was not a single Bee left in the glass_. In my eye it is a very handsome
glass of honey; it weighs exactly 13 lbs, and it has not one brood-cell
in it. I intend to close it up,--to label it,--and to keep it, at least
until I get another as handsome. It is a _rich_ curiosity to exhibit to
one's friends, especially to those who have never seen such a thing.
"On the other side, I send you a fortnight's register of the heights and
variations of a thermometer, placed in the colony from which I have taken
the glass, and also, of one placed in the shade, and apart from all Bees;
from which register you will know, in a moment, whether I have managed my
Bees properly. I am willing to flatter myself that I have, and that you
will say I have been very attentive indeed.
Ther. Ther. Ther. Ther.
1832. in the in the 1832. in the in the
July Hour Colony Shade July Hour Colony Shade
-------------------------------- -------------------------------
1 11 86 66 5 9 88 64
.. 6 88 66 6 8 88 64
2 6 90 65 .. 2 88 65
.. 1 92 66 .. 9 88 64
.. 1 92 66 7 8 89 64
.. 9 86 65 .. 9 88 64
3 8 88 65 8 9 86 64
.. 1 87 65 .. 9 86 64
.. 3 89 65 9 7 90 64
.. 5 87 64 .. 2 89 65
.. 9 88 64 .. 8 88 66
4 4 88 64 10 8 88 66
.. 10 83 64 .. 2 89 66
.. 12 86 65 11 9 88 66
.. 5 90 65 .. 2 89 66
.. 9 86 64 12 9 90 65
5 7 89 64 .. 1 94 66
.. 10 88 64 .. 9 89 68
.. 1 90 65 13 8 89 66
.. 5 89 65 .. 5 90 66
"In addition to this I could, time and space permitting, tell you from
what point the wind blew on each of these days, when it came full in
front of my boxes, and when it came upon them in any other direction,
when it was high, and when it was otherwise, on what days the Bees were
able to get abroad, and also when they were kept at home by rain, or by
any other cause. From these observations of the wind and weather, and
particularly from the manner in which the wind is directed towards, or
into the ventilators in the boxes, in conjunction with the movements
of the Bees, I think I can account pretty satisfactorily for what may
appear, at first sight, to be a little contradictory, viz. for the rising
of the thermometer in the boxes sometimes when it was falling in the
shade; and vice versa, for its sometimes rising in the shade when it was
falling in the boxes. But instead of writing you a dissertation on these
subjects, or on any of them, I choose rather to put you into possession
of the whole of my Bee-practice, by submitting to your notice a copy,
or as nearly as I can make it a copy, of a letter I took the liberty of
addressing to the Editor of 'The Voice of Humanity,' in October last,
after the appearance in No. V. of that publication, of a representation
and _imperfect_ explanation of your boxes. I was encouraged to write
that letter by the following announcement in an article in that No.--'A
due regard of rational humanity towards the Bee, though but an insect,
we shall feel a pleasure in promoting in the future as well as the
present pages of our publication. This subject has, moreover, a very
strong claim, inasmuch as it also exemplifies the grand principle upon
which The Voice of Humanity is founded--the true _prevention of cruelty_
to animals, by substituting a practical, an _improved system_, in the
place of one which is defective; this, in reference to the present
subject, &c, _is true prevention of cruelty_, not only to units, but to
thousands and tens of thousands of animals.' Notwithstanding this very
_rational_ announcement, and the prompt acknowledgment of the receipt of
my letter, it did not appear in either of the next two numbers, nor am
I aware that it is in the last, but I have not yet seen the last No. of
that publication, therefore must not be positive. But this is not all:
in No. 6, the conductors of that work express i sincere pleasure' in
inserting an article which, they say, c forms an admirable addition to
that on Mr. Nutt's Bee-hive;' and that 'the plan which it developes, in
addition to its humanity, has the recommendation of being more simple
and practicable than even the excellent improvements of Mr. Nutt.' Now
what do you suppose this _admirable_ addition to your Bee-hive,---this
plan recommended on account of its _humanity_, as well as on other
accounts--is? It is no other than that most cruel and destructive one
of depriving Bees of their honey _and of every thing else_, by 'driving
them out of a full hive into an empty one, so early in the season as to
afford the Bees sufficient time to provide themselves with another stock
of winter food before the bad weather begins.' Very considerate this,
certainly! but who can tell how soon the bad weather may begin? Of all
the methods ever resorted to of getting their honey from Bees, this,
in my humble opinion, is the most cruel and _inhuman_: suffocating the
Bees and destroying them at once is far preferable to this (I had hoped)
exploded mode of robbing them. If practised, it will, however, soon cure
itself: but is it not a strange practice for 'The Voice of Humanity' to
revive? Either the utterers of that sweet Voice are unacquainted with
the humane management of Bees upon your plan, or they are unaware of the
mischievous and destructive consequences attendant on the driving mode
of deprivation, or they have little claim to the title they bear on the
score of their humanity to Bees. I believe the former to be the case
with them: and therefore, in addition to the reason already given for
troubling you herewith, and in order to set them right on this _vital_
subject, I give you full power to do what you please with these letters.
If they will be of any use to you in your projected publication, give
them a place in it, and welcome: only do not garble them, _give them
entire, if you give them at all_. I am decidedly opposed to the driving
scheme; and I as decidedly approve of yours, which is, if properly
attended to, at once simple, practicable, profitable, admirable, and
truly humane.
Accept me, Dear Sir,
Yours very truly,
Thomas Clark."
"Mr. Editor,
"Since the publication of the last No. of 'The Voice of Humanity,'
in which you treated your readers with some interesting particulars
explanatory of the construction and different parts of Mr. Nutt's
Bee-boxes, and also of the mode of managing the Bees in them, so
far at least as regards the taking away a box when stored with the
delicious sweet (i. e. with honey), it has been suggested to me, that
a plain, simple history of a colony of Bees in my possession, and
managed according to Mr. Nutt's excellent plan, may not be altogether
unacceptable to the general readers and friends of 'The Voice of
Humanity' and may be even _a treat_ to amateur apiarians, who may be
unacquainted with the merits of Mr. Nutt's plan; or who, if partially
acquainted therewith, may have their doubts as to its practicability, or,
at least, as to its advantages, i. e. superiority over other plans. As
far, then, as 6 The Voice of Humanity' can make them (the merits of Mr.
Nutt's plan) known, I trust it will be as music to that Voice to publish
the following facts.
"Having had a complete set of Mr. Nutt's boxes presented to me, I,
though comparatively a novice in apiarian science, and not at that time
particularly attached to it, could not, in compliment to the donor,
do less than endeavour to work them, that was--get them stocked. That
was done with a swarm on the 18th of May 1830; and the middle-box, or
pavilion of nature, as Mr. Nutt calls it, into which the said swarm was
taken just in the same way it would have been if put into a common
straw-hive, was conveyed a distance of nearly four miles and placed
in my garden in the evening of the same day. The next day being fine,
I observed that the Bees were very busy constructing comb, and had,
within twenty-four hours of their being domiciled in their new abode,
actually made a progress in that most curious work that astonished me:
they were passing and re-passing, and literally all alive; many were
visibly loaded with materials for their ingenious work. My curiosity
was excited, and so much was I pleased with my multitudinous labourers
that I visited them daily, and many times in the course of each day,
when the weather was favourable for their getting abroad. Their combs
were rapidly advanced; but to my great mortification they very soon
obstructed my view of their interior works, by bringing a fine comb quite
over the only little window at the back of the pavilion, at the distance
of about half an inch from the glass. I was not, however, without the
means of ascertaining that they were filling the pavilion with their
treasures, and consequently that they would soon be in want of more
room. I, therefore, at the end of a fortnight admitted them into the
large bell-glass by withdrawing the slide, which, when closed, cuts
oft' the communication between the pavilion and the said glass. They
(the Bees) immediately reconnoitred it, as it were, and examined it
round and round, and presently took possession of it in great numbers;
and in the course of the second day afterwards I could perceive that
they began to continue their work upwards from and upon the combs in
the box. Here I was again inexpressibly gratified by daily observing
the progress of their beautiful work, and by the busy thousands in
perpetual motion. When they had about half-filled the glass, and before
I was aware that there was any occasion for their admission into either
of the collateral-boxes, they suddenly threw off a swarm. That event
I attribute partly to my own inexperience in apiarian matters, and
partly--principally to the want of a thermometer by which to ascertain
and regulate the temperature of the crowded pavilion, so as to keep
the Bees _at the working, and below the swarming point of heat_. Mr.
Nutt assures me that a barn would not contain a colony of Bees if its
temperature were raised above a certain degree. What that precise degree
of heat is I leave to Mr. Nutt to determine and explain: at present
it is enough to state that I am convinced it is possible, nay, quite
easy, to keep Bees at work, and to prevent their swarming, by giving
them plenty of room, and by proper ventilation. After my Bees had thrown
off the swarm, as above mentioned, the work in the glass progressed but
slowly, indeed it was for some time almost deserted, owing, I presume, to
the room made in the pavilion by the absence of the thousands that had
left it: for, whenever the weather was such that they could get abroad,
they were always busy. The season, however, it is well-known, was so wet
as to be very unfavourable for Bees:--the summer of 1830 was not by any
means what is called a Bee-year; and early in the autumn I could see
that, instead of adding to their store, they were under the necessity of
living upon it. They were, however, abundantly provided for the winter,
and lived through it almost to a Bee. In the spring of this year (1831)
they appeared to be strong and in excellent condition. As early as the
middle of May they had replenished the emptied combs in the glass, and,
it may be presumed, in the pavilion too. In the first week of June, the
glass was completely filled in the most beautiful manner. I therefore
opened the communication to one of the end or collateral-boxes, and two
or three days afterwards, viz. on the 10th of June, I took off the glass
and replaced it with another. So rapidly did those industrious little
insects proceed with their work, that in about six weeks they completely
filled the end-box. I then opened the way to the empty box at the other
end of the pavilion: and a few days afterwards had the full box taken off
by Mr. Nutt himself (who happened to call upon me, and who handsomely
volunteered his services on the occasion), without any stifling of any
sort--without the destruction, or the loss, of--scarcely a Bee,--as
nearly in the manner described in your last No. as circumstances would
permit; for the Queen-Bee being in the box taken off made it necessary
for Mr. Nutt to vary the operation a little;--not a person was stung,
though ladies, very timid ladies, and children too, were among the
admiring lookers on; only, in returning the Queen-Bee, found in the box,
to the pavilion, I myself was stung, owing to my over-anxiety to see
how she would be received by the Bees in the pavilion. Her majesty's
presence in that box (the box taken off) at that time might probably
have puzzled me; but to Mr. Nutt it presented no difficulty; and to
witness his operation was to me a most instructive lesson, and would have
delighted any friend of humanity. It was performed in the middle of a
fine day. That box contained, as nearly as we could estimate, about 35
lbs. of honey, incomparably purer and finer than any I ever saw, except
from Mr. Nutt's boxes. The glass beforementioned contained 12 lbs.--so
that I have this year taken _forty-seven pounds_ of the very finest
honey from one stock of Bees;--I have all my Bees alive--and they are
at this time abundantly provided for the ensuing winter; nay, without
impoverishing them, I believe, I might take 6 or 8 lbs. more; but I have
already had enough; and, if my Bees have more than enough for their
winter's consumption, they will not waste it;--it will be found next year.
"The preservation of the Bees unhurt, uninjured, very many of them
undisturbed at all,--the quantity of honey that may be had,--and the very
superior quality of that honey, are advantages of Mr. Nutt's mode of
Bee-management, over the barbarous, stifling system, that cannot fail to
recommend it to the adoption of every friend of humanity,--to every lover
of the delicious sweet,--and to every apiarian who has nothing beyond
self-interest in view.
"One word more, and I have done. There are, I observe with pleasure,
persons of considerable influence among your subscribers, and probably
there may be persons of still greater influence among your readers. To
such I would most respectfully suggest the propriety of doing something
to reward Mr. Nutt for the services he has already rendered the Honey-Bee
and the cause of humanity. I--an obscure, country clergyman, know not how
to set about procuring it; but a _premium was never more richly deserved_.
"Though longer than I intended, when I sat down to write, I hope you will
find no difficulty in giving the foregoing communication a place in your
pages; and, in this hope, I beg to subscribe myself,
Your humble servant,
Thomas Clark.
"Gedney-Hill, near Wisbech,
October 20th, 1831."