A thick strong-made hive is a more certain protection from the cold than one that is thin and light. It keeps in the warmth, like suitable winter clothing; while the other resembles an unseasonable summer garment: and, for this reason, I have recommended, in [Chapter VI.] not to spare the material. Notwithstanding the excessive cold of Lithuania, and the north of Russia, the swarms succeed in finding for themselves a comfortable abode in the hollows of the thick oak-trees, through which the cold does not penetrate. But, in addition to the warmth arising from the thickness of the hive, I always cover mine, during severe weather, with a piece of old blanket, or some such thing, to check the first impression of the cold; and as few country people have a thermometer, by which to estimate the degree of temperature, they should hasten to thatch, or cover them, in some way, whenever they perceive the hoar frost on the glass of their windows, which will be the case when the common thermometer of Fahrenheit descends three or four degrees below the freezing point.
CHAPTER XXIX.
MANNER OF PRESERVING HIVES BY TAKING THEM INTO THE HOUSE IN WINTER.
It is generally supposed that, in the high valleys, and in the mountains, bees can only be preserved by taking the hives into the house in winter, where they must remain, until the snow has disappeared, before they can be set at liberty. I had this fatal prejudice for many years; but it was dispelled by the success attending the union of the five swarms of which I have given a detailed account in [Chapter XVIII.], at which time a ray of light broke in upon me that has since continued to guide me.
The following winter I left out the one-half of my hives, and moved the other half into a cold room, according to my usual custom, where all the pains I bestowed upon them did not altogether keep them alive, nor preserve them from damp and infection. In vain I swept and cleaned the boards, or placed them on dry hay to absorb the moisture; in vain I gave them capes or joinings. With all my care, there was not one of them free of diseases and infection. The winter was long and severe; and they could not be returned to the air before the last week in March, by which time they were feeble and languid, and far less prosperous than those that had passed the winter out of doors. From that time, I have never taken one into the house. But, as hives that have been weakened by giving out too many swarms, especially swarms of the same year, that have not nearly filled the interior of their habitation with combs, are less subject to become overheated, and to mould, than those that are quite filled, and of which the population is very strong, the inhabitants of the mountains might have the latter in the open air all winter, and only move the others into the house. They will find, as I have done, that strong well filled hives are far best out of doors, provided they take the necessary precautions to prevent them from freezing.
I have somewhere or other read an account of a very ingenious method of preserving hives in winter, but have not made trial of it, in consequence of not having a place fitting for it. According to this plan, one must have an empty room, very cold and dry, in which, from end to end, two long poles are suspended parallel to each other, and a foot of distance between them. As soon as the severe cold begins, and the thermometer is at the freezing point, the hives are all moved into this room, and set up upon the poles, without any board beneath them, and separate about half a foot from each other. Each hive must be numbered, and the numbers noted down, as well as the board and place that each occupied in the apiary, in order that they may be replaced in exactly the same situation on the return of spring. This done, the room is darkened, as the smallest ray of light will induce the bees to quit their hives; and, in this manner, they may be preserved in a healthy state, and without diminution of their numbers, during the winter; and, from being left entirely open below, any dead bees, or bits of wax, fall on the floor, and they escape the danger of infection.
On the return of the fine season, and early in the morning of a calm day, the room is opened, and each hive returned to its own place on the apiary.
I have reason to think that hives, wintered in this way, will consume a quarter, a third, or perhaps one-half less provision than others, if left on the apiary, or shut up entirely from the air; but we must attend less to the rigid economy of the honey, than to the preservation of the valuable insects that collect it for us.
I possess only the theory of a practice of which I should have gloried in being the inventor, as it appears to me infallible, and advantageous in all its relations, but more especially to the inhabitants of the mountains. There two or three people might hire a room among them for the purpose; and, should the air become impure from so many hives being closed up together, it could be purified by opening the door during the night, and closing it well up again in the morning.