CHAPTER XIV.

BEE-FEEDING.

Neglected generally, as is the management of Bees by their

cottage possessors, there is no part of it less attended to, nor more

slovenly performed, when performed at all, than that of feeding. The

cottager commonly takes up, as he terms it, his best hives for the sake

of the treasures they contain, or are supposed to contain. This is

destroying Bees because they are rich! He also takes up the lightest and

poorest--of course the late swarms--and those that are the least likely

to live through the winter; because if he get from one of these but two

or three pounds of honey, though he seldom gets so much, and a few ounces

of wax, he thinks that that is all clear gain: and, if he get neither

honey nor wax, he, at any rate, gets rid of the _expense_ and _trouble_

of feeding _his good-for-nothing swarms_, which, in his opinion, however

fed, would never come to any good. A pennyworth of brimstone will do

the job at once, and is more easily paid for than a pound of sugar, and

after that another, and perhaps another. Such is the reasoning, and

calculation, and cruel practice of the generality of cottage Bee-keepers!

Such is the destruction annually dealt out to hundreds of poor swarms,

and thousands and millions of _poor_ Bees!! I do from my heart pity

and deplore the untimely fate of these suffocated, innocent, valuable

insects. To destroy Bees because they are rich is a _barbarous_ practice,

and ought by all means to be discountenanced and discontinued;--to

destroy Bees because they are poor and may need support, is cruel---is

inhuman--is shocking, however little may be thought of it by those who

still adhere to this practice. Even with the common straw-hives, this

terrible havoc among poor stocks and late swarms might be prevented,

if they, who happen to have them, would so far improve themselves in

the practical management of an apiary, as to be able to fumigate, and

to take such Bees out of the hives containing them, and to join them

to their richer stock-hives, in the latter end of August, or any time

in September. This is by far the best plan that can be adopted with

poor hives; and there really is no difficulty in the operation. This

strengthens the population of rich stocks, and causes them to swarm

early in the ensuing spring, _it preserves the Bees_, which is of

itself, independently of the advantages accruing from it afterwards, a

consideration that never should be lost sight of,--it leaves the contents

of the fumigated hive, as absolutely in the possession of the Bee-owner,

as if the Bees had been suffocated and destroyed,--and in most cases it

entirely does away with the necessity of feeding. I confess I should

rejoice greatly, and flatter myself that every friend of humanity would

rejoice with me, to see this mode of disposing of weak hives universally

adopted; because, it may be presumed, that the next step in the way of

improvement would be to take away the superabundant treasure of the Bees

and _still preserve them_.

Notwithstanding, under certain circumstances it will always be necessary,

and judicious in Bee-masters, to have recourse to _feeding_. If, for

instance, after an early swarm is put into a hive, or into a box, two or

three or more cold, ungenial days should follow, and more particularly if

those days should happen to be rainy also, by feeding such a swarm you

will assist your impoverished labourers, not only with _necessary food_,

but with materials and treasure, which, unfortunately for them, they

cannot at such an unfavourable juncture get abroad to collect elsewhere.

Different apiarians have adopted and recommended different ways of

feeding Bees, none of which, in my opinion, possess any great merit; in

order, therefore, to improve this part of Bee-management, my endeavours

have been directed to the contrivance and construction of a feeding

department; which is attached to my collateral-hives in so convenient a

manner, that I can feed my Bees, at any time when feeding is required--in

spring, in autumn, or in winter, without disturbing the position of the

hive, and without changing its interior temperature; which temperature

cannot be kept equable and comfortable, where a hive is frequently lifted

up from its stand, and its interior is suddenly exposed to the action of

perhaps an extremely cold atmosphere. Besides, a hive cannot be lifted up

without breaking the propolis by which it has been cemented all round

and made fast to its stool. In sharp, cold weather, disruption of the

hive from its stool is a serious mischief done to the Bees; because,

however carefully it maybe set down again, there will have been made many

vents and crevices between the edge of the hive and the stool, which

will occasion various currents of air, cold, frosty, or other--proper or

improper--to be continually passing through the lower part of the hive.

And should Bees be tempted by food, or urged by hunger, to descend into

these currents in sharp, frosty weather, but few of them will get away

alive; the keen air acting upon them whilst feeding, paralyzes and kills

them. I am an advocate for keeping Bees cool in winter--yes, _cool and

still also:_ let them not be disturbed nor disunited,--let them not be

forced nor tempted to (if I may so say) uncluster themselves. I have no

objection to a current of air passing through the lower part of a hive

in winter, _provided the Bees be not disturbed--be not exposed singly to

its nipping influence;_ but I strongly object to the feeding of Bees in

such currents, because, in that case, feeding is prejudicial to them.

The cottager seldom protects his hives in winter with any other covering

than that which a pot, called a pancheon, whelmed over each hive, forms;

capped with this unsightly piece of earthenware, his hives are exposed

to all weathers; consequently the less he disturbs them the better. He

therefore should give his weak stocks _a copious feeding_, in September

at the latest,--not molest them during the severity of winter,--but in

the spring, as soon as the Bees begin to make their appearance at the

mouth of his hives, introduce his wooden trough furnished with a _little_

Bee-sirup, and then close up the entrance,--withdraw the trough in the

morning, and return it replenished every evening, as long as feeding is

necessary. Tearing off a hive at Christmas, and scattering a few ounces

of brown sugar upon the stand, and then setting down the hive again,

deserves not the name of feeding; though it is all the bounty that is

bestowed on some stocks; and is even more than others are treated with.

It need not then be wondered at that so many stocks of Bees perish in the

winter, and in the spring of every year. _By judicious feeding, at proper

seasons, almost any stock of Bees may be preserved: by injudicious

feeding_, at an improper season, even good stocks--stocks that would

survive, if not fed at all, nor molested, during the depth and severity

of winter, may be seriously injured--may be totally destroyed. The

peasant Bee-keeper, however, does not often subject himself to the charge

_complimental_ of being accessary to the death of his Bees _through

mistaken kindness_.

The sum and substance of my directions, as respects Bee-feeding, are

these:--

1. In spring feed _sparingly_.

2. In autumn feed _plentifully_.

3. In winter _do not feed at all_.

4. Feed swarms, if unseasonable weather immediately follow the act of

swarming.

5. Preserve the Bees of weak stocks, and prevent a great deal of the

necessity for feeding, by adding them to those that are rich and able

to support them. This last is the best and cheapest, nay--it is even a

_profitable_ method of feeding Bees.

Early swarming, where swarming is necessary as in the straw-hive

colonies, is of great advantage to the watchful apiarian, but not to the

inattentive and slothful manager. I have seen in a cottager's garden a

swarm of Bees on the 10th of May, which was considerably weaker in the

month of August, than was a swarm on the 10th of July, and that solely on

account of not being fed and properly attended to.

If early swarms are judiciously fed, and supported by a natural heat

within, they will be greatly benefitted thereby, and eventually prosper.

But, notwithstanding what has been already said, the cottager may

probably ask--"how can I feed my Bees without lifting up their hive?" I

again and again request him to examine my collateral box-hive; and he

will perceive that he may easily feed the Bees in his cottage-hive in

the same easy manner, if he have but ingenuity enough to attach a proper

feeder to the stool or floor of his hive.

Mr. Huish advises apiarians to make choice of a fine and warm day in

which to feed Bees, he says, the danger to be apprehended from the

change of the temperature in the hive will thereby be obviated. This, I

grant, is rational and humane, and in some degree a confirmation of my

already expressed opinion, respecting the mischiefs resulting from the

inconsiderate practice of exposing the interior of a hive to sudden

and extreme alternations of temperature. But it matters not what sort

of weather it may be, if my mode of feeding be adopted. I feed my Bees

in their native temperature, without disturbing them or exposing their

food to the temptation of robbers, which feeding in the ordinary way so

frequently encourages, during the spring and autumnal seasons; and it is

at these times that Bees stand in most need of assistance.

In the year 1828, I purchased a cottage-hive of a neighbour, it was

a large hive, and well-stocked with Bees, but extremely light; I was

fearful for the safety of its inmates, and, therefore, placed it over one

of my feeders; in order to give them support by feeding, I placed the

sirup intended for their food beneath the hive; but to my great surprise

the Bees refused to take the proffered bounty. I persevered in my

endeavours to induce them to feed for four days, but they would not touch

the well-intended boon: I therefore resolved to ascertain the cause of

their refusal, and on turning up the hive I discovered that thousands of

the Bees were in a dying state, I had the curiosity to take the whole of

them out singly. After several hours' particular attention and patient

search, I found the Queen was dead. I then united the weak, enfeebled

Bees to a rich stock, and they nearly all recovered their strength.

Their numbers greatly assisted in the labour of the hive to which they

were joined. Certain it is, that if any accident befal their Queen in

winter, it is total _ruin_ to that stock of Bees: where such a death is

discovered, feeding will avail nothing, the Bees dwindle away and perish.

Mr. Huish says--and he is perfectly correct in saying--that there are

some persons who defer the feeding of their Bees until the moment they

suppose that they may be in actual want. This is a most reprehensible

plan; for should feeding be too long delayed, the Bees will become so

weak and debilitated, that they will be unable to convey the food into

their cells: the food ought to be administered to poor stocks, three

weeks or a month before they may be supposed to be in actual want;

it will then be conveyed with the greatest despatch into the cells,

and the hive will be saved from a death of famine. He then goes on to

observe--that some apiarians conceive that the feeding of Bees in the

spring renders them lazy and inactive. On what this opinion is grounded

he is at a loss to conjecture, as must be every practical apiarian;

for it is in direct contradiction, not only to Mr. Huish's experience,

but also to that of many other apiarians. A little food granted to

a populous, and even well-provisioned box or hive in the spring, is

attended with very beneficial consequences. It diffuses animation and

vigour throughout the whole community;--it accelerates the breeding

of the Queen--and consequently conduces to the production of early

swarms, where room is not previously given in order to prevent swarming

altogether.

BEE-FOOD.

Artificial food proper for Bees may be made by mixing _coarse_, raw

sugar, and good, sound ale, in the following proportions:--

To a quart of ale add a pound and a half of sugar, gently boil them, in

a sweet, well-tinned saucepan, over a fire clear from smoke, for five or

six minutes, or until the sugar be dissolved and thoroughly incorporated

with the ale; and, during the process of boiling, skim off the dross

that rises to the surface. Some persons boil these ingredients much

longer, and until they become, when cool, a thick, clammy sirup; this

not only diminishes the quantity of the mixture, but renders it rather

disadvantageous, to weak Bees in particular, by clogging and plaguing

them, if, as they are almost sure to do, they get their legs or wings

daubed with it. I prefer sirup in a more liquid state.

For spring feeding, I advise--that not more than a pound of sugar be put

to a quart of ale, or sweet wort, if it can be obtained, and that a small

quantity of common salt be added. By a _small quantity_ I mean--a drachm

or two at the most to a quart of the sirup. Salt, it has been said, is

conducive to the health of Bees, and the most efficacious remedy for the

dysentery, which sometimes affects Bees in the spring; therefore, it may

not be amiss to put a little salt into their food, by way of preventive,

rather than to have recourse to it afterwards as a remedy.

Speaking of the substances which are proper for the feeding of Bees,

Mr. Huish says[I]--"he is perfectly convinced that honey alone is very

injurious to Bees, as it in general gives them the dysentery." Whether

by this _extraordinary passage_ Mr. Huish has, or has not, subjected

himself to the lash of his own ridicule, it would be hypercritical and

unbecoming in me to determine. As an apiarian I respect him; in no other

character am I acquainted with him. His work on the management of Bees

I have read, and have derived information and occasionally assistance

from some of its pages. There are in it, nevertheless, several untenable

positions, of which I consider the above-quoted passage to be one: and,

if what he has remarked somewhat sarcastically, in a note at the foot of

page 31, be read in conjunction with this passage, it will be for the

candid reader, apiarian, or other, to decide whether Mr. Huish in propriâ

personâ does not, oddly enough, exemplify his own remark. It is there

said--that "there is no wonder in nature which an apiarian has not seen."

Professedly an apiarian himself, he must have seen some, at least, of

_the wonders in nature_, otherwise he never could have been "_perfectly

convinced_"--that honey--"_honey alone_"--the very substance which Bees,

guided by the instinct of their nature, collect with so much industry,

and store up with so much care, for their subsistence, should be "very

injurious to them, and in general give them the dysentery." From this

it seems that the substance, which is the natural food for one stock of

Bees, is physic for another, if not poison!! I cannot but express my

astonishment that a gentleman, so acute and experienced as Mr. Huish

undoubtedly is, should have asserted in the most unqualified manner--that

"honey alone is very injurious to Bees." Were this the fact, rich stocks,

and all stocks that subsist upon "honey alone" during winter, would "in

general" be affected with dysentery in the spring, which certainly is

not the case. "In general" rich stocks are healthy and strong in the

spring. Poverty is the predisposing cause of dysentery among Bees: a

regular supply of their natural--their peculiar food, does not induce

dysentery or disease of any sort. Had Mr. Huish analyzed the honey given

to Bees as food, and which induced dysentery, he would, I suspect, have

discovered that it was not "honey alone," but--_medicated honey_--_honey

and brimstone_, or honey strongly tinctured either with brimstone or

tobacco. That honey, tinctured with the pernicious qualities of those

substances, should have a laxative effect upon impoverished, debilitated

Bees, is no more than might be expected: but then it is not the honey

that has the "injurious" effect, but the essence of the brimstone or of

the tobacco that is administered along with it. What effect honey, that

has not been stoved and saturated with brimstone or with tobacco, may

have upon _weak_ Bees, when given to them for _spring food_, I pretend

not to determine, because I have never tried the experiment. But I do

say that before the arrival of spring, honey, that has been drained or

expressed from the comb, undergoes fermentation, and that fermentation

may, for aught I know, impart to it physical properties, which in its

pure, liquid, unchanged state, in the warm hive, it does not possess. I

am not chemist enough to venture to assert that it is so, but I think

it highly probable that fermentation may alter the properties of honey,

and perhaps may render it unwholesome to Bees. But fresh, unfermented

honey, even that in the blackest and oldest combs--the very refuse, and

all such as the cottage-housewife makes into common mead, if spread upon

large dishes and placed in an apiary, will be banqueted upon by the Bees

in the most eager manner, and is apparently much enjoyed by them. They

soon carry into their hives what they do not consume on the spot, and

suffer no inconvenience whatever from the treat. I have feasted my Bees

in this way scores of times, and esteem it the very best mode of autumnal

feeding, and the most profitable way of disposing of broken combs and

refuse honey. "Honey alone" is the natural food of Bees, and if given

to them pure and untainted, in its primitive, limpid state, so far from

being injurious, it is highly beneficial to them; of this I have not the

shadow of a doubt. For autumnal feeding, I prefer honey to all other

substances, and recommend it as the most proper food that can be given to

them.

[Footnote I: Huish on Bees, page 272.]

Humanity to Honey-Bees or, Practical Directions for the Management of Honey-Bees Upon an Improved and Humane Plan, by Which the Lives of Bees May Be Preserved, and Abundance of Honey of a Superior Quality May Be Obtained · 第 14 / 16 章