After ascertaining that the workers in no situation sting the supernumerary queens, we were curious to learn how a stranger queen would be received in a hive wanting a reigning one. To elucidate this matter, we made numerous experiments, the detail of which would protract this letter too much, therefore I shall relate only the principal results.
Bees do not immediately observe the removal of their queen; their labours are uninterrupted; they watch over the young, and perform all their ordinary occupations. But, in a few hours, agitation ensues; all appears a scene of tumult in the hive. A singular humming is heard; the bees desert their young; and rush over the surface of the combs with a delirious impetuosity. Then they discover their queen is no longer among them. But how do they become sensible of it? How do the bees on the surface of the comb discover that the queen is not on the next comb? In treating of another characteristic of these animals, you have yourself, Sir, proposed the same question; I am incapable of answering it indeed, but I have collected some facts, that may perhaps facilitate the elucidation of this mystery.
I cannot doubt that the agitation arises from the workers having lost their queen; for on restoring her, tranquillity is instantly regained among them; and, what is very singular, they recognise her: you must interpret this expression strictly. Substitution of another queen is not attended with the same effect, if she is introduced into the hive within the first twelve hours after removal of the reigning one. Here the agitation continues; and the bees treat the stranger the same as when the presence of their own leaves them nothing to desire. They surround, seize, and keep her captive, a very long time, in an impenetrable cluster; and she commonly dies either from hunger or privation of air.
If eighteen hours elapse before substitution of a stranger queen for the native one removed, she is at first treated in the same manner, but the bees leave her sooner; nor is the surrounding cluster so close; they gradually disperse; and the queen is at last liberated. She moves languidly; and sometimes expires in a few minutes. However some queens have escaped in good health from an imprisonment of seventeen hours; and ended with reigning in the hives where they had originally been ill received.
If, before substituting the stranger queen, twenty-four hours elapse, she will be well received, and reign from the moment of her introduction into the hive. Here I speak of the good reception given to a queen after an interregnum of twenty-four hours. But as this word reception is very indefinite, it is proper to enter into some detail for explaining the exact sense in which I use it. On the 15. of August, I introduced a fertile queen, eleven months old, into a glass hive. The bees were twenty-four hours deprived of their queen, and had already begun the construction of twelve royal-cells, such as described in the preceding chapter. Immediately on placing this female stranger on the comb, the workers near her touched her with their antennæ, and, passing their trunks over every part of her body, they gave her honey. Then these gave place to others that treated her exactly in the same manner. All vibrated their wings at once, and ranged themselves in a circle around their sovereign. Hence resulted a kind of agitation which gradually communicated to the workers situated on the same surface of the comb, and induced them to come and reconnoitre, in their turn, what was going on. They soon arrived; and, having broke through the circle formed by the first, approached the queen, touched her with the antennæ, and gave her honey. After this little ceremony they retired; and, placing themselves behind the others, enlarged the circle. There they vibrated their wings, and buzzed without tumult or disorder, and as if experiencing some very agreeable sensation. The queen had not yet moved from the place where I had put her, but in a quarter of an hour she began to move. The bees, far from opposing her, opened the circle at that part to which she turned, followed her, and formed a guard around. She was oppressed with the necessity of laying, and dropped eggs. Finally, after four hours abode, she began to deposit male eggs in the cells she met.
While these events passed on the surface of the comb where the queen stood, all was quiet on the other side. Here the workers were apparently ignorant of a queen's arrival in the hive. They laboured with great activity at the royal cells, as if ignorant that they no longer stood in need of them: they watched over the royal worms, supplied them with jelly and the like. But the queen having at length come to this side, she was received with the same respect that she had experienced from their companions on the other side of the comb. They encompassed her; gave her honey; and touched her with their antennæ: and what proved better that they treated her as a mother, was their immediately desisting from work at the royal cells; they removed the worms, and devoured the food collected around them. From this moment the queen was recognised by all her people, and conducted herself in this new habitation as if it had been her native hive.
These particulars will give a just idea of the manner that bees receive a stranger queen; when they have time to forget their own, she is treated exactly as if she was their natural one, except that there is perhaps at first greater interest testified in her, or more conspicuous demonstrations of it. I am sensible of the impropriety of these expressions, but M. de Reaumur in some respect authorises them. He does not scruple to say, that bees pay attention, homage, and respect, to their queen, and from his example the like expressions have escaped most authors that treat on bees.
Twenty-four or thirty hours absence is sufficient to make them forget their first queen, but I can hazard no conjecture on the cause.