Among others who took a deep interest in our exhibition was Mr. Edward Wilson, President of the Acclimatisation Society of Victoria. This gentleman requested us to pack four stocks of the Ligurian bees for conveyance to Melbourne. With the assistance of Mr. Woodbury—whose aid was, indeed, essential—these stocks were sent off on the 25th of September, 1862, by the steam ship Alhambra, so as to arrive at the colony during the Austral summer. The hives were Woodbury frame hives, having ample space and ventilation, as well as the means of supplying water to their inmates during the voyage; there was, also, a sufficient store of honey to last until the following March. The bees arrived at Melbourne, where they were released after an imprisonment of seventy-nine days, and have since rapidly multiplied, the climate and pasturage of Australia greatly favouring the increase of this superior variety of the bee.
Mr. Wilson was so well pleased with the careful manner in which these stocks were fitted out for their voyage across the seas, that he subsequently instructed us to prepare him three more hives, which were sent out in a sailing vessel. Owing to the mismanagement of the water supply during the voyage, only one stock survived in this instance. Mr. Wilson informs us that one of these hives contained 136 lbs. of honey, on the 25th of December, 1864 (Midsummer in Australia).
Upwards of twenty years ago, we sent a Nutt's hive stocked with bees to New Zealand. We then adopted the plan of fixing the hive in a meat safe, so that the bees could fly about a little, and also cleanse the hive of their dead, for bees are very attentive to sanitary arrangements; they always remove the dead ones from their midst, and do not void excrement within the hive.
When bees are shut up in their hives too long, even with adequate ventilation, they are apt to be attacked by a disease called by apiarians dysentery. Sometimes, when confined by the unfavourableness of the weather in winter, or the lateness of spring, this disease produces serious mischief amongst the bees. Various remedies have been recommended; but we believe, the best is to see that there is wholesome food within the hive, and plenty of it, and, when fine weather returns, the health of the bees will return with it. Dampness of the hives, and too late feeding in the autumn, are also frequent causes of this disease.
BEE-KEEPING IN LONDON.
There are many persons now in this noisy city pent, who frequently remember the days of childhood, when, among pastures of clover, or amidst flowery heath and woodlands, they listened to the cheerful hum of bees. Partly from a desire to revive these old associations, and also from a natural liking for the tendance of living creatures, such persons would be glad to keep bees if they thought it possible to do so in London or its suburbs with any chance of success. We do not wonder that many should doubt even the possibility of bees feeding themselves amidst such an "endless meal of brick;" but we can easily prove that bees, if not placed too near to smoky chimneys, are able to produce honey, both for themselves and for their masters. To make this plain, we will mention some special instances of metropolitan bee-keeping.
About ninety years ago, a Mr. Wildman kept a bee-house and honey warehouse, near to Middle Row, Holborn. He was not only a tradesman, but was also the apiarian of his day. He kept hives of thriving bees on the roof of his house in Holborn, and many of the nobility and gentry used to mount thither, in order to inspect the apiary. At that period, St. Pancras was a "village two miles north-west of London," and what is now the Regent's Park was open country. It was then much easier for London bees to find their favourite forage, but Mr. Wildman believed that his hives were filled with stores from a considerable distance. Whilst enjoying his country rambles on Hampstead Heath, he had a shrewd suspicion that many of the bees he there observed gathering honey were labourers from his own apiary. In order to identify his own flock amongst the rest, he hit upon a homely but very effective expedient. Having borrowed Mrs. Wildman's "dredging box," he stationed himself near the entrance of his hives, and gently dusted his bees with flour as they issued forth. He then betook himself to Hampstead, where he found his previous surmise confirmed, for there were numbers of his bees in their livery of white.
Wildman became noted for the remarkable control he obtained over his bees, many instances of which he exhibited before the public. Several of his operations with them were regarded as feats of legerdemain by the uninitiated, as when he appeared before King George III., with a swarm of bees hanging in festoons from his chin, or suspended in a cluster at arm's length. The Journal of Horticulture recently, in alluding to Wildman, gives the following particulars as to his performances:—
"Near the 'Three Hats,' Islington, was a place of popular entertainment called 'Dobney's Tea Gardens,' kept by Mrs. Ann Dobney. These gardens occupied the ground between White Lion Street and Winchester Place, and were established as far back as 1728. In 1771, the house was taken for a short time as a boarding school; but it was soon changed to its original purpose as a place of amusement, for, in 1772, Daniel Wildman exhibited bees here. This is a copy of the advertisement:—
"'June 20, 1772. Exhibition of bees on horseback! at the Jubilee Gardens, Islington (late Dobney's), this and every evening, until further notice (wet evenings excepted).