Part 15

By the Greeks, Bees were accounted an omen of future eloquence;[609] the soothsayers of the Romans, however, deemed them always of evil augury.[610] They afforded also to the Romans presages of public interest, “clustering, as they do, like a bunch of grapes, upon houses or temples; presages, in fact, that are often accounted for by great events.”[611] The instances of happy omens afforded by swarms of Bees are the following:

“It is said of Pindar,” we read in Pausanias’ History of Greece, “that when he was a young man, as he was going to Thespia, being wearied with the heat, as it was noon, and in the height of summer, he fell asleep at a small distance from the public road; and that Bees, as he was asleep, flew to him and wrought their honey on his lips. This circumstance first induced Pindar to compose verses.”[612]

A similar incident is mentioned in the life of Plato:

“Whilst _Plato_ was yet an infant carried in the arms of his mother _Perictione, Aristo_ his father went to _Hymettus_ (a mountain in _Attica_ eminent for abundance of Bees and Honey) to sacrifice to the Muses or Nymphs, taking his Wife and Child along with him; as they were busied in the Divine Rites, she laid the Child in a Thicket of Myrtles hard by; to whom, as he slept (_in cunis dormienti_) came a Swarm of Bees, Artists of Hymettian Honey, flying and buzzing about him, and (as it is reported) made a Honeycomb in his mouth. This was taken for a presage of the singular sweetness of his discourse; his future Eloquence foreseen in his infancy.”[613]

From Butler’s Lives of the Saints we have the following:

“The birth of St. Ambrose happened about the year 340 B.C., and whilst the child lay asleep in one of the courts of his father’s palace, a swarm of Bees flew about his cradle, and some of them even crept in and out at his mouth, which was open; and at last mounted up into the air so high, that they quite vanished out of sight. This,” concludes the Reverend Alban, “was esteemed a presage of future greatness and eloquence.”[614]

Another instance is mentioned in the Feminine Monarchie, printed at Oxford in 1634, p. 22.

“When _Ludovicus Vives_ was sent by Cardinal Wolsey to Oxford, there to be a public professor of Rhetoric, being placed in the College of Bees, he was welcomed thither by a swarm of Bees; which sweet creatures, to signifie the incomparable sweetnesse of his eloquence, settled themselves over his head, under the leads of his study, where they have continued to this day.... How sweetly did all things then accord, when in this neat μουσαῖον newly consecrated to the Muses, the Muses’ sweetest favorite was thus honoured by the Muses’ birds.”[615]

Moufet, in his Theater of Insects, and Topsel, in almost the same words in his History of Four-footed Beasts and Serpents, gives the following list of remarkable omens drawn from Bees:

“Whereas the most high God did create all other creatures for our use; so especially the Bees, not only that as mistresses they might hold forth to us a patern of politick and œconomic vertues, and inform our understanding; but that they might be able as extraordinary foretellers, to foreshew the success and event of things to come; for in the years 90, 98, 113, 208, before the birth of Christ, when as mighty huge swarms of Bees did settle in the chief market-place, and in the beast-market upon private citizens’ houses, and on the temple of Mars, there were at that time stratagems of enemies against Rome, wherewith the whole state was like to be surprised and destroyed. In the reign of Severus, the Bees made combes in his military ensigns, and especially in the camp of Niger. Divers wars upon this ensued between both the parties of Severus and Niger, and battels of doubtful event, while at length the Severian faction prevailed. The statues also of Antonius Pius placed here and there all over Hetruria, were all covered with swarms of Bees; and after that settled in the camp of Cassius; what great commotions after followed Julius Capitolinus relates in his history. At what time also, through the treachery of the Germans in Germany, there was a mighty slaughter and overthrow of the Romans. P. Fabius, and Q. Elius being consuls in the camp of Drusus in the tent of Hostilius Rutilus, a swarm of Bees is reported to have sate so thick, that they covered the rope and the spear that held up the tent. M. Lepidus, and Munat. Plancus being consuls, as also in the consulship of L. Paulus, and C. Metellus, swarms of Bees flying to Rome (as the augurs very well conjectured) did foretell the near approach of the enemy. Pompey likewise making war against Cæsar, when he had called his allies together, he set his army in order as he went out of Dyrrachium, Bees met him and sate so thick upon his ensigns that they could not be seen what they were. Philistus and Ælian relate, that while Dionysius the tyrant did in vain spur his horse that stuck in the mire, and there at length left him, the horse quitting himself by his own strength, did follow after his master the same way he went with a swarm of Bees sticking on his mane; intimating by that prodigy that tyrannical government which Dionysius affected over the Galeotæ. In the Helvetian History we read, that in the year 1385, when Leopoldus of Austria began to march towards Sempachum with his army, a swarm of Bees flew to the town and there sate upon the tyles; whereby the common people rightly foretold that some forain force was marching towards them. So Virgil, in 7 Æneid:

The Bees flew buzzing through the liquid air: And pitcht upon the top o’ th’ laurel tree; When the Soothsayers saw this sight full rare, They did foretell th’ approach of th’ enemie.

That which Herodotus, Pausanias, Dio Cassius, Plutarch, Julius Cæsar, Julius Capitolinus, and other historians with greater observation then reason have confirmed. Saon Acrephniensis, when he could by no means finde the oracle Trophonius; Pausanias in his œticks saith he was lead thither by a swarm of Bees. Moreover, Plutarch, Pausanias, Ælian, Alex. Alexandrinus, Theocritus and Textor are authors that Jupiter Melitæus, Hiero of Syracuse, Plato, Pindar, Apius Comatus, Xenophon, and last of all Ambrose, when their nurses were absent, had honey dropt into their mouths by Bees, and so were preserved.”[616]

In East Norfolk, England, if Bees swarm on rotten wood, it is considered portentous of a death in the family.[617] This superstition is as old at least as the time of Gay, for, among the signs that foreshadowed the death of Blonzelind, it is mentioned:

Swarmed on a rotten stick the Bees I spy’d Which erst I saw when Goody Dobson dy’d.[618]

In Ireland, the mere swarming of Bees is looked upon as prognosticating a death in the family of the owner.

In parts of England it is believed, that if a swarm of Bees come to a house, and are not claimed by their owner, there will be a death in the family that hives them.[619]

It is a very ancient superstition that Bees, by their acute sense of smell, quickly detect an unchaste woman, and strive to make her infamy known by stinging her immediately. In a pastoral of Theocritus, the shepherd in a pleasant mood tells Venus to go away to Anchises to be well stung by Bees for her lewd behavior.

Now go thy way to Ida mount-- Go to Anchises now, Where mighty oaks, where banks along Of square Cypirus grow, Where hives and hollow trunks of trees, With honey sweet abound, Where all the place with humming noise Of busie Bees resound.

Incontinence in men, as well as unchastity in women, was thought to be punished by these little insects. Thus in the lines of Pindarus:

Thou painful Bee, thou pretty creature, Who honey-combs six angled, as the be, With feet doest frame, false Phœcus and impure, With sting has prickt for his lewd villany.[620]

Pliny says: “Certain it is, that if a menstruous woman do no more but touch a Bee-hive, all the Bees will be gone and never more come to it again.”[621]

In Western Pennsylvania, it is believed that Bees will invariably sting red-haired persons as soon as they approach the hives.

It is a common opinion that Bees in rough and boisterous weather, and particularly in a violent storm, carry a stone in their legs, in order to preserve themselves by its weight against the power of the wind. Its antiquity is also great, for in the writings of Plutarch we find an instance of this remarkable wisdom. “The Bees of Candi,” says this philosopher, “being about to double a point or cape lying into the sea, which is much exposed to the winds, they ballase (ballast) themselves with small grit or petty stones, for to be able to endure the weather, and not be carried away against their wills with the winds through their lightness otherwise.”[622]

Virgil, too, about a century earlier, mentions this curious notion in the following lines:

And as when empty barks on billows float, With sandy ballast sailors trim the boat; So Bees bear gravel stones, whose poising weight Steers through the whistling winds their steady flight.[623]

Swammerdam, who has noticed this belief of the ancients, makes the following remarks: “But this, as Clutius justly observes, has not been hitherto remarked by any Bee-keeper, nor indeed have I myself ever seen it. Yet I should think that there may be some truth in this matter, and probably a certain observation, which I shall presently mention, has given rise to the story. There is a species of wild Bees not unlike the smallest kind of the Humble-Bee, which, as they are accustomed to build their nests near stone walls, and construct their habitations of stone and clay, sometimes carry such large stones that it is scarcely credible by what means so tender insects can sustain so great a load, and that even flying while they are obliged also to support their own body. Their nest by this means is often so heavy as to weigh one or two pounds.”[624]

It was the general opinion of antiquity that Bees were produced from the putrid bodies of cattle. Varro says they are called Βουγόναι by the Greeks, because they arise from petrified bullocks. In another place he mentions their rising from these putrid animals, and quotes the authority of Archelaus, who says Bees proceed from bullocks, and wasps from horses.[625] Virgil, however, is much more satisfactory, for he gives us the recipe in all its details for producing these insects:

First, in a place, by nature close, they build A narrow flooring, gutter’d, wall’d, and til’d. In this, four windows are contriv’d, that strike To the four winds oppos’d, their beams oblique. A steer of two years old they take, whose head Now first with burnished horns begins to spread: They stop his nostrils, while he strives in vain To breathe free air, and struggles with his pain. Knock’d down, he dies: his bowels bruis’d within, Betray no wound on his unbroken skin. Extended thus, in his obscene abode, They leave the beast; but first sweet flowers are strow’d Beneath his body, broken boughs and thyme, And pleasing Cassia, just renew’d in prime. This must be done, ere spring makes equal day, When western winds on curling waters play; Ere painted meads produce their flowery crops, Or swallows twitter on the chimney tops. The tainted blood, in this close prison pent, Begins to boil, and thro’ the bones ferment. Then wond’rous to behold, new creatures rise, A moving mass at first, and short of thighs; Till shooting out with legs, and imp’d with wings, The grubs proceed to Bees with pointed stings: And more and more affecting air, they try Their tender pinions and begin to fly.[626]

This absurd notion was also promulgated by the great English chronicler, Hollingshed; for, says this author, “Hornets, waspes, Bees, and such like, whereof we have great store, and of which an opinion is conceived, that the first doo breed of the corruption of dead horses, the second of pears and apples corrupted, and the last of kine and oxen; which may be true, especiallie the first and latter in some parts of the beast, and not their whole substances, as also in the second, sith we never have waspes but when our fruit beginneth to wax ripe.”[627]

To conclude the history of this belief, the following remarks of the learned Swammerdam will not be inappropriate. He says: “It is probable that the not rightly understanding Samson’s adventure of the Lion, gave rise to the popular opinion of Bees springing from dead Lions, Oxen, and Horses; and this opinion may have been considerably strengthened, and indeed in a manner confirmed, by the great number of Worms that are often found during the summer months in the carcasses of such animals, especially as these Worms somewhat resemble those produced from the eggs of Bees. However ridiculous this opinion must appear, many great men have not been ashamed to adopt and defend it. The industrious Goedaert has ventured to ascribe the origin of Bees to certain dunghill Worms, and the learned de Mei joins with him in this opinion; though neither of them had any observation to ground their belief upon, but that of the external resemblance between the Bee and a certain kind of Fly produced from these Worms.”[628]

The opinion that stolen Bees will not thrive, but pine away and die, is almost universal.[629] It is, too, of reverend antiquity, for Pliny mentions it: “It is a common received opinion, that Rue will grow the better if it be filched out of another man’s garden; and it is as ordinarie a saying that stolen Bees will thrive worst.”[630]

In South Northamptonshire, England, there is a superstition that Bees will not thrive in a quarrelsome family.[631] It might be well to promulgate this and the next preceding superstition. This prevails among us.

In Hampshire, England, it is a common saying that Bees are idle or unfortunate at their work whenever there are wars. A very curious observer and fancier says that this has been the case from the time of the movements in France, Prussia, and Hungary, up to the present time.[632]

In Bishopsbourne, England, there prevails the singular superstition of informing the Bees of any great public event that takes place, else they will not thrive so well.[633]

In Monmouthshire, England, the peasantry entertain so great a veneration for their Bees, that, says Bucke, some years since, they were accustomed to go to their hives on Christmas eve at twelve o’clock, in order to listen to their humming; which elicited, as they believed, a much more agreeable music than at any other period; since, at that time, they celebrated, in the best manner they could, the morning of Christ’s nativity.[634]

Sampson, in his Statistical Survey of the County of Londonderry, 1802, p. 436, says that there “Bees must not be given away, but sold; otherwise neither the giver nor the taker will have _luck_.”[635]

A clergyman in Devonshire, England, informs us that when any Devonian makes a purchase of Bees, the payment is never made in money, but in things (corn, for instance) to the value of the sum agreed upon; and the Bees are never removed but on a Good Friday.[636] In western Pennsylvania, it is thought by some of the old farmers that the vender of the Bees must be away from home when the hive is taken away, else the Bees will not thrive.

Another superstition is that if a swarm of Bees be met with in an open field away from any house, it is useless to hive them, for they will never do a bit of good.

In many parts of England, a popular opinion is that when Bees remove or go away from their hives, the owner of them will die soon after.[637]

It is commonly believed among us that if Bees come to a house, it forebodes good luck and prosperity; and, on the contrary, if they go away, bad luck.

A North German custom and superstition is, that if the master of the house dies, a person must go to the Beehive, knock, and repeat these words: “The master is dead, the master is dead,” else the Bees will fly away.[638] This superstition prevails also in England, Lithuania, and in France.[639]

[Some years since, observes a correspondent of the Athenæum, quoted by Brande, a gentleman at a dinner table happened to mention that he was surprised, on the death of a relative, by his servant inquiring “whether his master would inform the Bees of the event, or whether _he_ should do so.” On asking the meaning of so strange a question, the servant assured him that Bees ought always to be informed of a death in a family, or they would resent the neglect by deserting the hive. This gentleman resides in the Isle of Ely, and the anecdote was told in Suffolk; and one of the party present, a few days afterward, took the opportunity of testing the prevalence of this strange notion by inquiring of a cottager who had lately lost a relative, and happened to complain of the loss of her Bees, “whether she had told them all she ought to do?” She immediately replied, “Oh, yes; when my aunt died I told every skep (_i.e._ hive) myself, and put them....

“Into mourning.” I have since ascertained the existence of the same superstition in Cornwall, Devonshire (where I have seen black crape put round the hive, or on a small black stick by its side), and Yorkshire. It probably exists in every part of the kingdom.... The mode of communicating is by whispering the fact to each hive separately.... In Oxford I was told that if a man and wife quarreled, the Bees would leave them.][640]

“In some parts of Suffolk,” says Bucke, “the peasants believe, when any member of their family dies, that, unless the Bees are put in mourning by placing a piece of black cloth, cotton or silk, on the top of the hives, the Bees will either die or fly away.

“In Lithuania, when the master or mistress dies, one of the first duties performed is that of giving notice to the Bees, by rattling the keys of the house at the doors of their hives. Unless this be done, the Lithuanians imagine the cattle will die; the Bees themselves perish, and the trees wither.”[641]

At Bradfield, if Bees are not invited to funerals, it is believed they will die.[642]

In the Living Librarie, Englished by John Molle, 1621, p. 283, we read: “Who would beleeve without superstition (if experience did not make it credible), that most commonly all the Bees die in their hives, if the master or mistress of the house chance to die, except the hives be presently removed into some other place? And yet I know this hath hapned to folke no way stained with superstition.”[643]

A similar superstition is, that Beehives belonging to deceased persons should be turned over the moment when the corpse is taken out of the house.[644] No consequence is given for the non-performance of this rite.

The following item is clipped from the Argus, a London newspaper, printed Sept. 13, 1790: “A superstitious custom prevails at every funeral in Devonshire, of turning round the Bee-hives that belonged to the deceased, if he had any, and that at the moment the corpse is carrying out of the house. At a funeral some time since, at Columpton, of a rich old farmer, a laughable circumstance of this sort occurred: for, just as the corpse was placed in the hearse, and the horsemen, to a large number, were drawn in order for the procession of the funeral, a person called out, ‘Turn the Bees,’ when a servant who had no knowledge of such a custom, instead of turning the hives about, lifted them up, and then laid them down on their sides. The Bees, thus hastily invaded, instantly attacked and fastened on the horses and their riders. It was in vain they galloped off, the Bees as precipitately followed, and left their stings as marks of indignation. A general confusion took place, attended with loss of hats, wigs, etc., and the corpse during the conflict was left unattended; nor was it till after a considerable time that the funeral attendants could be rallied, in order to proceed to the interment of their deceased friend.”[645]

After the death of a member of a family, it has frequently been asserted that the Bees sometimes take their loss so much to heart as to alight upon the coffin whenever it is exposed. A clergyman told Langstroth, that he attended a funeral, where, as soon as the coffin was brought from the house, the Bees gathered upon it so as to excite much alarm. Some years after this occurrence, being engaged in varnishing a table, the Bees alighted upon it in such numbers as to convince the reverend gentleman that love of varnish, rather than sorrow or respect for the dead, was the occasion of their conduct at the funeral.[646]

The following is an extract from a _Tour through Brittany_, published in the Cambrian _Quarterly Magazine_, vol. ii. p. 215: “If there are Bees kept at the house where a marriage feast is celebrated, care is always taken to dress up their hives in red, which is done by placing upon them pieces of scarlet cloth, or one of some such bright color; the Bretons imagining that the Bees would forsake their dwellings if they were not made to participate in the rejoicings of their owners: in like manner they are all put into mourning when a death occurs in a family.”[647]

In the Magazine of Natural History we find the following instance of singing psalms to Bees to make them thrive: “When in Bedfordshire lately, we were informed of an old man who sang a psalm last year in front of some hives which were not doing well, but which, he said, would thrive in consequence of that ceremony. Our informant could not state whether this was a local or individual superstition.”[648]

It is commonly said that if you sing to your Bees before they swarm, it will prevent their leaving your premises when they do swarm.

Peter Rotharmel, a western Pennsylvanian, had a singular notion that no man could have at one time a hundred hives of Bees. He declared he had often as many as ninety-nine, but could never add another to them.[649] I have since learned that this is not an individual superstition, but one that pretty generally prevails.

The Apiarians of Bedfordshire, England, have a custom of, as they call it, ringing their swarms with the door-key and the frying-pan; and if a swarm settles on another’s premises, it is irrecoverable by the owner, unless he can prove the ringing, but it becomes the property of that person upon whose premises it settles.[650]

The practice of beating pans, and making a great noise to induce a swarm of Bees to settle, is, at least, as old as the time of Virgil. He thus mentions it:

But when thou seest a swarming cloud arise, That sweeps aloft, and darkens all the skies: The motions of their hasty flight attend; And know to floods, or woods, their airy march they bend. Then melfoil beat, and honey-suckles pound, With these alluring savors strew the ground, And mix with tinkling brass the cymbal’s drowning sound.[651]

But concerning this practice, Langstroth says: “It is probably not a whit more efficacious than the hideous noises of some savage tribes, who, imagining that the sun, in an eclipse, has been swallowed by an enormous dragon, resort to such means to compel his snakeship to disgorge their favorite luminary.”[652]

Dr. Toner, the author of that very interesting little work, “Maternal Instinct or Love,” informs me that when a boy he witnessed a mode of alluring a swarm of Bees to settle, performed by a German man and his wife, which struck him at the time as being remarkable, and which was as follows: Having first put some pig-manure upon the hive into which they wished the Bees to go, they ran to and fro under the swarm, singing a monotonous German hymn; and this they continued till the Bees were settled and hived.