In the season of 1865 wasps were as few as they were numerous the preceding year; their paucity was attributable either to frosts in May or to heavy rains in June, which destroyed them in their nests. In general wasps are great depredators of wall-fruit, but in the autumn before mentioned the bees occupied the wasps' foraging-ground. Perhaps never in the memory of bee-keepers did bees feast upon fruit in the same manner. Various reasons have been assigned for this unusual occurrence; some thought that as there were so few wasps the bees were unmolested, and enjoyed the saccharine matter in the fruit without let or hindrance—for bees are about as partial to the company of wasps as mice are to that of rats. Other bee-keepers remarked the sudden and early termination of the honey-gathering, and conjectured that the bees, being anxious to make up their winter store, endeavoured to bring home nectar from the fruit because the weather was unusually fine. There was one feature which is worth remarking: as far as our observation extended, the bees did not, like the wasps, break the skin of sound fruit, but were satisfied with lapping the juice of the ripe fruit that had the skin already broken.
There are some birds that are given to preying around beehives, and if their visits become too systematically troublesome, it may be worth while to take active measures for making their presence scarce in order to prevent these devourers from taking up a position near the alighting-board and pouncing upon each bee as it makes its exit. The toad is a less formidable enemy, but if one of these creatures is found beneath a hive-stand it may fairly be concluded that he is on the watch for such bees as may drop to the ground under their loads. Mice, again, will make their abode in a hive for the winter, and devour the stores when the bees are too inactive to interfere. Spiders, ants, and other insects will also have to be guarded against.
Other formidable enemies of bees are moths. These insects are creatures of the night, as the wasps are of the day, and they make their way into the hives under cover of darkness, in spite of the bee sentinels. They deposit their eggs in any crevices in or near the hive that they can find. There the warmth of the hive, or of the sheltered situation, causes the eggs speedily to hatch, and then the maggots soon work their way to the comb and larvæ food, which they greedily devour, thereby often bringing about the gradual but certain destruction of the whole community of bees. The best method of keeping moths outside the hives is to lessen the entrance, as before alluded to. Also, in the early spring, the hives should be lifted from their floor-boards, which must then be made thoroughly clean; and all crevices and corners about the hive and stand should be scraped, so as to get rid of all eggs of moths and other insects before the warm weather hatches them or enables them to do mischief The bee-moth is not so troublesome in England as it is in America and some parts of Germany; but still its encroachments should be carefully guarded against in this country, for if not it may easily increase to a very serious extent.
§ XI. 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 a century ago a Mr. Wildman kept a bee-house and honey warehouse in Holborn, near to where Middle Row lately stood. 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 arms' 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).
"'The celebrated Daniel Wildman will exhibit several new and amazing experiments, never attempted by any man in this or any other kingdom before. The rider standing upright, one foot on the saddle and one on the neck, with a mask of bees on his head and face. He also rides standing upright on the saddle with the bridle in his mouth, and, by firing a pistol, makes one part of the bees march over the table, and the other swarm in the air and return to their hive again, with other performances too tedious to insert. The doors open at six; to begin at a quarter before seven. Admittance—Box and gallery, 2s.; the other seats. 1s.'"