That bees can remember agreeable sensations at least, is evident from the following anecdote related by Huber.—One autumn some honey was placed upon a window—the bees attended it in crowds. The honey was taken away, and the window closed with a shutter all the winter. In the spring, when it was re-opened, the bees returned, though no fresh honey had been placed there[259].
From the earliest times our little citizens of the hive have had the character of being an irritable race. Their anger is without bounds, says Virgil; and if they are molested, this character is no exaggeration. Some individuals, however, they will suffer to go near their hives, and to do almost any thing: and there are others to whom they seem to take such an antipathy, that they will attack them unprovoked. A great deal will probably depend upon this—whether any thing has happened to put them out of humour. The bees usually do not attack me; but I remember one day last year, when the asparagus was in blossom, which a large number were attending, I happened to go between my asparagus beds; which discomposed them so much, that I was obliged to retreat with hasty steps, and some of them flew after me; I escaped however unstung. Thorley relates an anecdote of a gentleman, who, desirous of securing a swarm of bees that had settled in a hollow tree, rashly undertook to dislodge them. He succeeded; but though he had used the precaution of securing his head and hands, he was so stung by the furious animals, that a violent fever was the consequence, and his recovery was for some time doubtful. The strength of his constitution at length prevailed; and the hole of the tree being stopped, the survivors of the battle settled upon a branch, were hived, and became the dear-bought property of their conqueror[260].
In Mungo Park's last mission to Africa, he was much annoyed by the attack of bees, probably of the same tribe with our hive-bee. His people, in search of honey, disturbed a large colony of them. The bees sallied forth by myriads, and attacking men and beasts indiscriminately, put them all to the rout. One horse and six asses were either killed or missing in consequence of their attack; and for half an hour the bees seemed to have completely put an end to their journey. Isaaco upon another occasion lost one of his asses, and one of his men was almost killed by them[261].
Bees, however, if they are not molested, are not usually ill-tempered: if you make a captive of their queen, they will cluster upon your head, or any other part of your body, and never attempt to sting you. I remember, when a boy, seeing the celebrated Wildman exhibit many feats of this kind, to the great astonishment and apprehension of the uninformed spectators. The writer lately quoted (Thorley) was assisted once by his maidservant to hive a swarm. Being rather afraid, she put a linen cloth as a defence over her head and shoulders. When the bees were shaken from the tree on which they had alighted, the queen probably settled upon this cloth; for the whole swarm covered it, and then getting under it, spread themselves over her face, neck, and bosom, so that when the cloth was removed she was quite a spectacle. She was with great difficulty kept from running off with all the bees upon her; but at length her master quieted her fears, and began to search for the queen. He succeeded; and hoped when he put her into the hive that the bees would follow; but they only seemed to cluster more closely. Upon a second search he found another queen, (unless the same had escaped and returned,) whom seizing, he placed in the hive. The bees soon missed her, and crowded after her into it: so that in the space of two or three minutes not one was left upon the poor terrified girl. After this escape, she became quite a heroine, and would undertake the most hazardous employments about the hives[262].
Many means have been had recourse to for the dispersion of mobs and the allaying of popular tumults. In St. Petersburgh (so travellers say) a fire-engine playing upon them does not always cool their choler; but were a few hives of bees thus employed, their discomfiture would be certain. The experiment has been tried. Lesser tells us, that in 1525, during the confusion occasioned by a time of war, a mob of peasants assembling in Hohnstein (in Thuringia) attempted to pillage the house of the minister of Elende; who having in vain employed all his eloquence to dissuade them from their design, ordered his domestics to fetch his bee-hives, and throw them in the middle of this furious mob. The effect was what might be expected; they were immediately put to flight, and happy if they escaped unstung[263].
The anger of bees is not confined to man; it is not seldom excited against their own species. From what I have said above respecting the black bees[264] and their fate, it seems not improbable that, when the workers become too old to be useful to the community, they are either killed, or expelled from the society. Reaumur, who observed that the inhabitants of the same hive had often mortal combats, was of opinion that this was their object in these battles[265], which take place, he observes, in fine or warm weather. On these occasions the bees are sometimes so eager, that examining them with a lens does not part them:—their whole object is to pierce each other with their sting, the stroke of which, if once it penetrates to the muscles, is mortal. In these engagements the conqueror is not always able to extricate this weapon, and then both perish. The duration of the conflict is uncertain; sometimes it lasts an hour, and at others is very soon determined: and occasionally it happens that both parties, fatigued and despairing of victory, give up the contest and fly away.
But the wars of bees are not confined to single combats; general actions now and then take place between two swarms. This happens when one takes a fancy to a hive that another has pre-occupied. In fine warm weather, strangers, that wish to be received amongst them, meet with but an indifferent welcome, and a bloody battle is the consequence. Reaumur witnessed one that lasted a whole afternoon, in which many victims fell. In this case the battle is still between individuals, who at one time decide the business within the hive, and at another at some distance without. In the former case the victorious bee flies away, bearing her victim under her body between her legs, sometimes taking a longer and sometimes a shorter flight before she deposits it upon the ground.—She then takes her repose near the dead body, standing upon her four anterior legs, and rubbing the two hinder ones against each other. If the battle is not concluded within the hive, the enemy is carried to a little distance, and then dispatched.
This strange fury however does not always show itself on this occasion; for now and then some friendly intercourse seems to take place. Bees, from a hive in Mr. Knight's garden, visited those in that of a cottager, a hundred yards distant, considerably later than their usual time of labour, every bee as it arrived appearing to be questioned. On the tenth morning, however, the intercourse ceased, ending in a furious battle. On another occasion, an intimacy took place between two hives of his own, at twice the distance, which ceased on the fifth day. Sometimes he observed that this communication terminated in the union of two swarms; as in one instance, where a swarm had taken possession of a hollow tree[266], it is probable that the reception of one swarm by another may depend upon their numbers, and the fitness of their station to accommodate them. Thorley witnessed a battle of more than two days continuance, occasioned by a strange swarm forcing their way into a hive[267]. Two swarms that rise at the same time sometimes fight till great numbers have been destroyed, or one of the queens slain, when both sides cease all their enmity and unite under the survivor[268].
These apiarian battles are often fought in defence of the property of the hive. Bees that are ill managed, and not properly fed, instead of collecting for themselves, will now and then get a habit of pillaging from their more industrious neighbours: these are called by Schirach corsair bees, and by English writers, robbers. They make their attack chiefly in the latter end of July, and during the month of August. At first they act with caution, endeavouring to enter by stealth; and then, emboldened by success, come in a body. If one of the queens be killed, the attacked bees unite with the assailants, take up their abode with them, and assist in plundering their late habitation[269]. Schirach very gravely recommends it to apiarists whose hives are attacked by these depredators, to give the bees some honey mixed with brandy or wine, to increase and inflame their courage, that they may more resolutely defend their property against their piratical assailants[270]. It is however to be apprehended that this method of making them pot-valiant might induce them to attack their neighbours, as well as to defend themselves.
Sometimes combats take place in which three or four bees attack a single individual, not with a design to kill, but merely to rob: one seizes it by one leg, another by another; till perhaps there are two on each side, each having hold of a leg, or they bite its head or thorax. But as soon as the poor animal that is thus haled about and maltreated unfolds its tongue, one of the assailants goes and sucks it with its own, and is followed by the rest, who then let it go. These insects, however, in their ordinary labours are very kind and helpful to each other; I have often seen two, at the same moment, visit the same flower, and very peaceably despoil it of its treasures, without any contention for the best share.