Bees in America

by Tammy Horn

  Within the last few years I have written articles for different German papers, in which I explained the advantages of our American hives and management; this caused Dzierzon to advise us not to use a hive with frames to be manipulated from above, because by taking out the first frame, the bees would be rolled and killed; and other beekeepers had other objections. Nevertheless, our hive system is gaining more friends in Germany. No one can honor Dr. Dzierzon more than I do, but to call him the inventor of a frame hive is just amusing, when he used every occasion to speak and write against frames.117

  The controversy concerning hives had important ramifications because many people tended to want to buy cheaper, smaller hives. The result was that often too much honey was taken from hives for the bees to survive the winter in the northern states. Or the hives would become crowded, causing the bees to swarm.

  A Kentuckian named George W. Demaree announced his famous swarm control plan in 1892. Demaree realized that the reason for swarming was overcrowding. When the queen detects such pressure in the hive, she quits laying eggs and prepares to leave the nest. This transfers energy away from honey production. Demaree proposed to transfer the combs containing brood from the brood chamber to an upper story with a queen excluder. One comb containing brood and eggs was left with the queen, and the balance was filled with empty combs to provide ample space for egg-laying.118

  Because this method required so much time if beekeepers had small hives, many transferred to the larger hives, which cut down on the swarming problem. “It was a start back to sanity in beekeeping,” notes Pellett. It would take many years and many colony losses for people to realize the “drastic” effects of Demaree’s swarm control plan, but it was an important reaction to the small hives so popular at the time.119

  Blue waters wash up to Oahu from every vantage point. Bird of paradise plants pose nonchalantly in the most mundane places: gas stations, hotel courtyards, sidewalks, and city parks. Hawaii blooms with plants and people. At first glance, then, the kiawe (or mesquite) tree is the ugly duckling in Paradise: it is a short, squat, scrappy little plant eking out an existence in the drier parts of the island. But this plant is responsible for a minor but profitable beekeeping industry in Hawaii.

  Hawaii was annexed as a territory in 1894, and its system of buying “bee rights” was unique. Because most of the land in Hawaii was divided into large tracts, beekeepers would have to approach the managers of a tract, buy the rights to agreed-upon locations, and arrange for payment. Although often the payment was in honey, at times beekeepers paid a fixed sum and assumed the risks associated with drought, disease, or other reasons for which there might not be a crop. If another beekeeper placed his colony within the limits of the prescribed area, according to “A Brief Survey,” “It can end in only one way, since the beekeeper who has a right there has the advantage…. The moral right of priority claim, which so many beekeepers advocate, has small place in the manipulations of territory in Hawaii, where the beekeeping companies pay for what they get and insist on getting it.”120 Although Hawaii didn’t officially become a state until 1959, it exported honey to the mainland as early as 1894. Beeswax was exported in 1897. These modest successes were indicative of how well the complex society—German, Hawaiian, American, French, and Japanese—worked together in Hawaii.

  In the absence of a common political party, religion, or language, many beekeepers found a niche in the emerging American industrial landscape through their love of bees. Beekeeping helped reaffirm common bands of friendship, love of landscape, practical farming, and similar cultural practices, such as wedding celebrations and funeral arrangements. By the end of the nineteenth century, American beekeepers formed a solid community, even though major ethnic, geographical, gender, and racial differences remained. When the nineteenth century ended, Americans had restructured beekeeping so that it could be profitable and manageable. Four inventions transformed beekeeping from a cottage industry into a major commercial industry: the Langstroth hive, the smoker, the extractor, and the comb foundation maker. All four have stayed essentially the same. The commercial beekeeping industry developed simultaneously with large-scale agriculture immediately after the Civil War. With trade routes reestablished within the country and without, American farmers started to develop regional crop patterns that would define the twentieth-century migratory commercial beekeepers.

  For all the emphasis on industrialization, American communities were determined to carve out religious or racially diverse utopias. For these people, beekeeping was as much about goodness of life and religious freedom as it was about profits and bank ledgers. Their songs about bees remain some of the best testaments of their faiths and of this country’s efforts to secure the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in spite of the high price of human lives the Civil War exacted.

  The independent honey hunter coexisted with the settled, profitable beekeeper. Mass publications perpetuated the image of honey hunter as an ideal just as society around him was changing to a corporate culture. The honey hunter remained an important but shadowy figure as the advertising, pop culture market, movie, radio, and children’s literature industries developed in full force during the twentieth century. However, the economic circumstances that supported him would no longer be in place.

  John Burroughs, a noted bee hunter, best reflected the transition period between the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In “An Idyll of the Honey-Bee,” he issued an invitation to go bee hunting: “If you would know the delights of bee-hunting, and how many sweets such a trip yields beside honey, come with me some bright, warm, late September or early October day.”121 But he also best described the changing appetite of the nation: “It is too rank and pungent for the modern taste; it soon cloys upon the palate. It demands the appetite of youth, and the strong, robust digestion of people who live in the open air.”122 By the twentieth century, the openness of the open air was very much in question, and honey bees and their keepers were at the center of the controversies.

  Part Four

  REQUEENING A GLOBAL HIVE

  Chapter 5

  EARLY TWENTIETH CENTURY INDUSTRIALIZATION, 1901–1949

  The only consistent thing about bees is their inconsistency.

  —Dr. C. C. Miller

  For much of the early twentieth century, America was balanced between a pastoral ideal of sustainable agriculture and an emerging commitment to a new form of agriculture that would characterize twentieth-century America. The two ancient symbols of sustenance—bees and cattle—were in forty-eight states as well as in the territories of Alaska and Hawaii. A third symbol—the train—made migratory beekeeping, a uniquely American twist to the agricultural industry, possible. The nomadic trade route patterns that were established continued to be in place and provided a framework for transforming America into an industrial countryside, to borrow Steven Stoll’s phrase. In Fruits of Natural Advantage: Making the Industrial Countryside in California (1998), Stoll suggests that five factors merged in the twentieth century to create a highly industrialized agricultural landscape: capital, science, innovative farmers and orchard growers, an independent yet inextricable relationship between farmers and government, and a solid hierarchy between owners and laborers that generally divided along class and racial lines.1 All of these factors played into a general agricultural trend for farmers to specialize in certain crops. Yet at the bottom of this industrial countryside was the honey bee, whose ability to pollinate would not be fully appreciated until after World War II, but who nevertheless made the agricultural transformation possible in the nineteenth century and visibly successful in the early twentieth.

  Furthermore, advertisements promoted this concept of industrial agriculture: those who worked the American soil would be rewarded. Advertisements with honey bees promoted pastoral images and children, suggesting innocence. No one would starve in the modern Canaan; advertisements said so. Yet it was hardly an ideal country. Industrialization affected the bee industry just as it did
other businesses. Commercial pollination, World Wars I and II, the queen rearing industry, a price support system, and imported bees improved American beekeeping. Making money in honey became the norm; beekeeping was no longer a sideline interest. However, beekeepers reeled in the wake of diseases, chemical pesticides, and zoning restrictions. As with many twentieth-century industries, science and technology could outpace an average beekeeper’s ability to apply new knowledge before changes were made again.

  Honey hunting did not disappear in modern America. Economic depressions, wars, and health reform movements encouraged people to find value in such activities as finding bee trees, making candles, and cooking with honey. The bee hunter, although marginalized, was still an admirable person in many poverty-stricken regions, and thus, a small literature of bee hunting tales still existed in these areas, promoting independence and sustainability.

  The honey bee remained an important image in the twentieth-century arts. In addition to reflecting more traditional values of industry and thrift, modern artists conveyed the complexities of racial and gender roles in American society. The honey bee—with its contradictory abilities to create honey but deliver a powerful sting—was a perfect metaphor by which to explore in movies, music, and literature the complexities of romantic relationships or traumatic experiences. In fact, artists embraced the honey bee for its cathartic potential.

  The honey bee was “the step child of agriculture” throughout the twentieth century, according to American Bee Journal editor G. H. Cale.2Nevertheless, in an increasingly technical and secular world, many Americans still harbored respect for bees, although bees and their keepers were decreasing in numbers.

  Progressive Beekeeping

  Progressivism marched through America with a vengeance, and beekeeping did not escape its influence. Although there had been health reform movements in the United States, the first law to protect consumers was passed in 1906, and much credit should go to honey producers such as Charles Dadant. Until this bill was passed, unscrupulous producers could sell honey that had been adulterated with sugar without fear of legal recrimination. Honey adulteration occurred often enough that the market suffered in the States and abroad. The problem was aggravated by the plethora of honey varieties produced in such a vast country. Hawaiian producers, for example, often provided two types of products: mesquite and honeydew. Mesquite honey, considered a delicacy, brought (and still brings) high prices. But honeydew is an inferior product, often made from sap or other sugary substances that foraging bees happen to collect. Pre-World War II bakeries liked to use honeydew because it has great baking properties. If the two liquids were mixed, however, mesquite honey would deteriorate in quality.

  With an extensive network of alliances in both France and America, Charles Dadant had organized political pressure to protect beekeepers and consumers as early as 1878. Although initially indifferent to the question of honey adulteration, A. I. Root gradually came to his friend’s support.3 In fact, one summer, “Three of the National Beekeeper’s Association Board raided a prominent Chicago operation producing adulterated honey. Eugene Secor, [Herman] Moore, and [George] York were commended in the Chicago papers and all the bee press for their actions,” reports Kim Flottum, current editor of Bee Culture.4

  After years of petitions and organization, beekeepers generated support among the states and territories for the bill to pass in Congress in 1906.5 The unity was widespread and consistent. The Pure Food Act was in part due to the organized presence of beekeeping associations that formed after the Civil War to educate people and share resources. But these associations were redefining their roles. According to Frank Pellett, the emphasis of beekeepers had changed from education to marketing in the twentieth century: “By 1910 the idea of doing big things in the way of advertising and selling honey began to be felt…. The following year, at Minneapolis, the society definitely launched on the plan of a business organization instead of an educational one, as it had always been. It was the beginning of the end of the golden age of beekeeping.”6 In 1911, the Round Rock Beekeeping Association in Texas accurately summed up the attitude binding beekeepers: “Progressive means doing something worthwhile. There is no standing still in this or any other business.”7

  The pollination industry developed alongside the transportation industry. In 1912, the Texas Department of Agriculture bulletin provided pictures of hives on tops of city buildings, a city window unit, and a series of photographs of migratory pollinators using horse-and-buggy outfits, Ford Model Ts, and railroad cars. Beekeepers traveled to farms throughout the year, thus systematically earning money and providing a much-needed service to commercial farmers.

  Nephi Miller was especially successful at migratory beekeeping. In 1894, Miller traded five bags of leftover oats to a neighbor for a colony of bees. By 1904, he had enough confidence in his beekeeping skills to quit his job on a wheat-threshing crew and become a full-time beekeeper. In 1906, to help out with the labor, he hired a twelve-year-old Swiss immigrant named A. H. Meyer, who would go on to become a commercial beekeeper in South Dakota.8 Miller was doing rather well for himself until he came up against a problem.

  “Beeswax—and what to do with it. There seemed to be no way in which all the impurities could be removed from it,” writes Nephi’s biographer, Rita Miller. Miller explains, “Industry at large was discovering the value of byproducts that previously had been thought useless and were allowed to go to waste. It was true of the steel, meat packing, lumber, and mining industries, for example.”9

  Beeswax has always been useful, but an efficient method of cleaning the wax of impurities was difficult to come by. So after borrowing some money from a local bank, Nephi Miller decided to go to California in December to learn how to render beeswax in clean, smooth cakes. While there, he was fortunate to meet a commercial beekeeper named M. H. Mendelson, who taught Miller the steps of cleaning beeswax. Mendelson would also hire women to do queen rearing, finding them to be better workers than men at such a delicate task. Miller never forgot Mendelson’s kind instruction and often followed his mentor’s examples with his own employees. But more importantly, Miller could see that his bees, stationed in the cold Wasatch Mountains in Utah, would thrive in the warmer California winters. But how? Railroads were his answer, just as they had been for Migratory Graham in the nineteenth century.

  After knocking on a lot of doors, Miller finally reached an agreement with Union Pacific Railroad to transport bees. In 1907, Nephi Miller moved his bees south to Colton, California, which had plenty of orange groves. Then he moved them north to Utah during the summer in order to get two seasons out of them. Because “train men were horrified at the thought of hauling bees,” Miller would leave the railroad cars open, and even rode along with his bees.10 He is still considered the father of commercial beekeeping in Utah. Many beekeepers followed his example until automobiles and interstates made cross-country pollination easier and more affordable.

  Cars were especially important in the emerging pollination industry. According to one editorial written in the American Bee Journal in 1903, “There is no question as to [cars’] advantage in one respect—they will never get frightened, run away and break things by being attacked by cross bees.”11 Horses waiting to transport bee colonies from the railroad to farms would be stung by the bees and become very difficult to handle. Although railroads could move large quantities of bees, they could not guarantee comfort of the bees. If railroad cars were left in the sun, the bees would literally cook if neither ventilation nor water were quickly provided. According to one beekeeper, Howard Graff of Snohomish, Washington, “If it was a warm day or the railcars were delayed, many hives would melt down, and honey would run onto the floor of the boxcar.”12

  Roger Morse cites the first occurrence of bee rental for pollination in New Jersey during 1909.13 Interestingly enough, the pollination industry offered a double-edged sword, according to Morse: “Development of the automobile helped create both a problem and the solution: New suburbs
cleared out woods and other natural habitats where bees had built their hives, but at the same time, the improvement of roads and spread of car ownership made it easy for domesticated bees to be taken wherever they were needed.”14

  Women were welcomed to the industry with open arms. Jennie Atchley began publishing The Southland Queen (1901) in Texas; she explained bee diseases, discussed new equipment, and provided information to beekeepers throughout the vast state of Texas.15 Its art nouveau motif, with a woman bedecked with roses and laurels, emphasized its queen bee editor. Curving trellises, elongated fonts, and an attractive woman created an exotic look for the publication, especially as far as beekeeping journals go. Even though the magazine did not last long, Atchley extended a tradition started by Mrs. Ellen Tupper in Iowa during the 1880s.

  The two bee business giants—A. I. Root and Charles Dadant—offered unflagging support for women beekeepers and factory workers. Both men employed women in their comb foundation and candle factories and published many letters and articles written by women beekeepers. In fact, perhaps A. I. Root’s riskiest stance as an editor was to publish an article about Mrs. Booker T. Washington’s all-girl beekeeping club in Tuskegee, Alabama.16 Margaret Murray Washington’s beekeeping club included women so confident with the bees that they weren’t wearing bee veils in the pictures. “[A. I. Root] caught some flack from some ‘less enlightened’ readers, and lost some subscribers in the South,” writes Kim Flottum. “But he kept many from the North, so it all balanced out, or so he thought.”17

  A. I. Root also published Beekeeping for Women, written by Anna Comstock in 1905. Comstock, an entomologist, wrote the book—which still holds value—for beginners.18 When ordering from catalogs, Comstock advised that the “catalogs are so delightful that, if the purse is long enough, [one] feels inclined to order a specimen of everything listed. However, this is not the best way to do.”19 Easier said than done.