Chapter IV Carder-Bees; Humble-Bees; Social-Wasps
The bees and wasps, whose ingenious architecture we have already examined, are solitary in their labours. Those we are about to describe live in society. The perfection of the social state among this class of insects is certainly that of the hive-bees. They are the inhabitants of a large city, where the arts are carried to a higher excellence than in small districts enjoying little communication of intelligence. But the bees of the villages, if we may follow up the parallel, are not without their interest. Such are those which are called carder-bees and humble-bees.
Carder-Bees.
The nests of the bees which Réaumur denominates carders (Bombus muscorum, Latr.) are by no means uncommon, and are well worth the study of the naturalist. During the hay harvest, they are frequently met with by mowers in the open fields and meadows; but they may sometimes be discovered in hedge-banks, the borders of copses, or among moss-grown stones. The description of the mode of building adopted by this bee has been copied by most of our writers on insects from Réaumur; though he is not a little severe on those who write without having ever had a single nest in their possession. We have been able to avoid such a reproach; for we have now before us a very complete nest of carder-bees, which differs from those described by Réaumur, in being made not of moss, but withered grass. With this exception, we find that his account agrees accurately with our own observations. (J. R.)
The carder-bees select for their nest a shallow excavation about half a foot in diameter; but when they cannot find one to suit their purpose, they undertake the Herculean task of digging one themselves. They cover this hollow with a dome of moss—sometimes, as we have ascertained, of withered grass. They make use, indeed, of whatever materials may be within their reach; for they do not attempt to bring anything from a distance, not even when they are deprived of the greater portion by an experimental naturalist. Their only method of transporting materials to the building is by pushing them along the ground—the bee, for that purpose, working backwards, with its head turned from the nest. If there is only one bee engaged in this labour, as usually happens in the early spring, when a nest is founded by a solitary female who has outlived the winter, she transports her little bundles of moss or grass by successive backward pushes, till she gets them home.
In the latter part of the season, when the hive is populous and can afford more hands, there is an ingenious division of this labour. A file of bees, to the number sometimes of half a dozen, is established, from the nest to the moss or grass which they intend to use, the heads of all the file of bees being turned from the nest and towards the material. The last bee of the file lays hold of some of the moss with her mandibles, disentangles it from the rest, and having carded it with her fore legs into a sort of felt or small bundle, she pushes it under her body to the next bee, who passes it in the same manner to the next, and so on till it is brought to the border of the nest,—in the same way as we sometimes see sugar-loaves conveyed from a cart to a warehouse, by a file of porters throwing them from one to another.
The elevation of the dome, which is all built from the interior, is from four to six inches above the level of the field. Beside the moss or grass, they frequently employ coarse wax to form the ceiling of the vault, for the purpose of keeping out rain, and preventing high winds from destroying it. Before this finishing is given to the nest, we have remarked, that on a fine sunshiny day the upper portion of the dome was opened to the extent of more than an inch, in order, we suppose, to forward the hatching of the eggs in the interior; but on the approach of night this was carefully covered in again. It was remarkable that the opening which we have just mentioned was never used by the bees for either their entrance or their exit from the nest, though they were all at work there, and, of course, would have found it the readiest and easiest passage; but they invariably made their exit and their entrance through the covert-way or gallery which opens at the bottom of the nest, and, in some nests, is about a foot long and half an inch wide. This is, no doubt, intended for concealment from field-mice, polecats, wasps, and other depredators.
On removing a portion of the dome and bringing the interior of the structure into view, we find little of the architectural regularity so conspicuous in the combs of a common bee-hive: instead of this symmetry, there are only a few egg-shaped, dark-coloured cells, placed somewhat irregularly, but approaching more to the horizontal than to the vertical position, and connected together with small amorphousT columns of brown wax. Sometimes there are two or three of these oval cells placed one above another, without anything to unite them.
These cells are not, however, the workmanship of the old bees, but of their young grubs, who spin them when they are about to change into nymphs. But, from these cases, when they are spun, the enclosed insects have no means of escaping, and they depend for their liberation on the old bees gnawing off the covering, as is done also by ants in the same circumstances. The instinct with which they know the precise time when it is proper to do this is truly wonderful. It is no less so, that these cocoons are by no means useless when thus untenanted, for they subsequently serve for honey-pots, and are indeed the only store-cells in the nest. For this purpose the edge of the cell is repaired and strengthened with a ring of wax.
The true breeding-cells are contained in several amorphous masses of brown-coloured wax, varying in dimensions, but of a somewhat flat and globular shape. On opening any of these, a number of eggs or grubs are found, on whose account the mother bee has collected the masses of wax, which also contain a supply of pollen moistened with honey, for their subsistence.
The number of eggs or grubs found in one spheroid of wax varies from three to thirty, and the bees in a whole nest seldom exceed sixty. There are three sizes of bees, of which the females are the largest; but neither these nor the males are, as in the case of the hive-bee, exempt from labour, the females, indeed, always found the nests, since they alone survive the winter, all the rest perishing with cold. In each nest, also, are several females, that live in harmony together.
The carder-bees may be easily distinguished from their congeners (of the same genus), by being not unlike the colour of the withered moss with which they build their nests, having the fore part of their back a dull orange, and hinder part ringed with different shades of greyish yellow. They are not so large as the common humble-bee (Bombus terrestris, Latr.), but rather shorter and thicker in the body than the common hive-bee (Apis mellifica).
A bee still more common, perhaps, than the carder is the orange-tailed bee, or lapidary (Bombus lapidaria), readily known by its general black colour and reddish orange tail. It builds its nest sometimes in stony ground, but prefers a heap of stones such as are gathered off grass fields or are piled up near quarries. Unlike the carder, the lapidary carries to its nest bits of moss, which are very neatly arranged into a regular oval. These insects associate in their labours; and they make honey with great industry. The individuals of a nest are more numerous than the carders, and likewise more pertinaciously vindictive. About two years ago we discovered a nest of these bees at Compton-Bassett, in Wiltshire, in the centre of a heap of limestone rubbish; but owing to the brisk defensive warfare of their legionaries, we could not obtain a view of the interior. It was not even safe to approach within many yards of the place; and we do not exaggerate when we say that several of them pursued us most pertinaciously about a quarter of a mile. (J. R.)
Humble-Bees.
The common humble-bee (Bombus terrestris) is precisely similar in its economy to the two preceding species, with this difference, that it forms its nest underground like the common wasp, in an excavated chamber, to which a winding passage leads, of from one to two feet, and of a diameter sufficient to allow of two bees passing. The cells have no covering beside the vault of the excavation and patches of coarse wax similar to that of the carder-bee.
Some of the cells contain larvæ, in others, those closely sealed, lie the pupæ in different stages of development, and some of the cells are filled with a very fragrant and sweet honey, which, however, is injurious to many persons, giving them severe and persistent headaches, even though taken in small quantities.]
The nest of the common wasp (Vespa vulgaris) attracts more or less the attention of everybody; but its interior architecture is not so well known as it deserves to be, for its singular ingenuity, in which it rivals even that of the hive-bee (Apis mellifica). In their general economy the social or republican wasps closely resemble the humble-bee (Bombus), every colony being founded by a single female who has survived the winter, to the rigours of which all her summer associates of males and working wasps uniformly fall victims. Nay, out of three hundred females which may be found in one vespiary, or wasp’s nest, towards the close of autumn, scarcely ten or a dozen survive till the ensuing spring, at which season they awake from their hibernal lethargy, and begin with ardour the labours of colonization.
It may be interesting to follow one of these mother wasps through her several operations, in which she merits more the praise of industry than the queen of a bee-hive, who does nothing, and never moves without a numerous train of obedient retainers, always ready to execute her commands and to do her homage. The mother wasp, on the contrary, is at first alone, and is obliged to perform every species of drudgery herself.
Her first care, after being roused to activity by the returning warmth of the season, is to discover a place suitable for her intended colony; and, accordingly, in the spring, wasps may be seen prying into every hole of a hedge-bank, particularly where field-mice have burrowed. Some authors report that she is partial to the forsaken galleries of the mole; but this does not accord with our observations, as we have never met with a single vespiary in any situation likely to have been frequented by moles. But though we cannot assert the fact, we think it highly probable that the deserted nest of the field-mouse, which is not uncommon in hedge-banks, may be sometimes appropriated by a mother wasp as an excavation convenient for her purpose. Yet, if she does make choice of the burrow of a field-mouse, it requires to be afterwards considerably enlarged in the interior chamber, and the entrance gallery very much narrowed.
The desire of the wasp to save herself the labour of excavation, by forming her nest where other animals have burrowed, is not without a parallel in the actions of quadrupeds, and even of birds. In the splendid continuation of Wilson’s American Ornithology, by Charles L. Bonaparte (whose scientific pursuits have thrown around that name a beneficent lustre, pleasingly contrasted with his uncle’s glory), there is an interesting example of this instinctive adoption of the labours of others. “In the trans-Mississippian territories of the United States, the burrowing-owl resides exclusively in the villages of the marmot, or prairie-dog, whose excavations are so commodious as to render it unnecessary that the owl should dig for himself, as he is said to do where no burrowing animals exist.U The villages of the prairie-dog are very numerous and variable in their extent,—sometimes covering only a few acres, and at others spreading over the surface of the country for miles together. They are composed of slightly-elevated mounds, having the form of a truncated cone, about two feet in width at the base, and seldom rising as high as eighteen inches from the surface of the soil. The entrance is placed either at the top or on the side, and the whole mound is beaten down externally, especially at the summit, resembling a much-used footpath. From the entrance, the passage into the mound descends vertically for one or two feet, and is thence continued obliquely downwards until it terminates in an apartment, within which the industrious prairie-dog constructs, on the approach of cold weather, a comfortable cell for his winter’s sleep. The cell, which is composed of fine dry grass, is globular in form, with an opening at top, capable of admitting the finger; and the whole is so firmly compacted, that it might without injury be rolled over the floor.”V
In case of need the wasp is abundantly furnished by nature with instruments for excavating a burrow out of the solid ground, as she no doubt most commonly does—digging the earth with her strong mandibles, and carrying it off or pushing it out as she proceeds. The entrance gallery is about an inch or less in diameter, and usually runs in a winding or zig-zag direction, from one to two feet in depth. In the chamber to which this gallery leads, and which, when completed, is from one to two feet in diameter, the mother wasp lays the foundations of her city, beginning with the walls.
The building materials employed by wasps were long a matter of conjecture to scientific inquirers; for the bluish-grey papery substance of the whole structure has no resemblance to any sort of wax employed by bees for a similar purpose. Now that the discovery has been made, we can with difficulty bring ourselves to believe that a naturalist so acute and indefatigable as M. Réaumur, should have, for twenty years, as he tells us, endeavoured, without success, to find out the secret. At length, however, his perseverance was rewarded. He remarked a female wasp alight on the sash of his window, and begin to gnaw the wood with her mandibles; and it struck him at once that she was procuring materials for building. He saw her detach from the wood a bundle of fibres about a tenth of an inch in length, and finer than a hair; and as she did not swallow these, but gathered them into a mass with her feet, he could not doubt that his first idea was correct. In a short time she shifted to another part of the window-frame, carrying with her the fibres she had collected, and to which she continued to add, when he caught her, in order to examine the nature of her bundle; and he found that it was not yet moistened nor rolled into a ball, as is always done before employing it in building. In every other respect it had precisely the same colour and fibrous texture as the walls of a vespiary. It struck him as remarkable that it bore no resemblance to wood gnawed by other insects, such as the goat-moth caterpillar, which is granular like sawdust. This would not have suited the design of the wasp, who was well aware that fibres of some length form a stronger texture. He even discovered, that before detaching the fibres, she bruised them (les charpissoit) into a sort of lint (charpie) with her mandibles. All this the careful naturalist imitated by bruising and paring the same wood of the window-sash with his penknife, till he succeeded in making a little bundle of fibres scarcely to be distinguished from that collected by the wasp.
We have ourselves frequently seen wasps employed in procuring their materials in this manner, and have always observed that they shift from one part to another more than once in preparing a single load—a circumstance which we ascribe entirely to the restless temper peculiar to the whole order of hymenopterous insects. Réaumur found that the wood which they preferred was such as had been long exposed to the weather, and is old and dry. White of Selborne, and Kirby and Spence, on the contrary, maintain that wasps obtain their paper from sound timber, hornets only from that which is decayed.W Our own observations, however, confirm the statement of Réaumur with respect to wasps, as, in every instance which has fallen under our notice, the wood selected was very much weathered; and in one case, an old oak post in a garden at Lee, in Kent, half destroyed by dry-rot, was seemingly the resort of all the wasps in the vicinity. In another case, the deal bond in a brick wall, which had been built thirty years, is at this moment (June, 1829) literally striped with the gnawings of wasps, which we have watched at the work for hours together. (J. R.)
[Different species of wasps use different materials for their nest. Vespa vulgaris always uses decayed wood, while V. germanica and other species use sound wood. Owing to the colour, the distinction between the nests of these insects is evident at a glance.
The bundles of ligneous fibres thus detached are moistened before being used, with a glutinous liquid, which causes them to adhere together, and are then kneaded into a sort of paste, or papier maché.
The method employed by the wasp in making its nest has been so admirably described by Mr. S. Stone, that we cannot do better than copy his description, which appeared in “Beeton’s Annual” of 1865.
“Having found a place suitable—the deserted burrows of the field-mice being perhaps more generally selected than any other by the underground species, the chamber formed by that animal for its nest being exactly the kind of place required by the insect—it proceeds to attach its web to the centre of the roof of the chamber. This consists, in the first instance, of a pedicle, or footstalk, about half an inch in length, at the extremity of which a single cell is formed, which is presently surrounded by others.
“Simultaneously with the formation of these cells, an umbrella-shaped covering is prepared above them. More cells are added, an egg being deposited in each of them as soon as formed, while constant additions are made to the covering until it has assumed a globular form, with only an aperture sufficiently large for the insect to pass in and out. Before the completion of the first covering, a second, just large enough to enclose it, is begun, and while this is in progress a third is commenced, and then a fourth, and so on. When young wasps have been produced in sufficient numbers to carry on the work without the assistance of the parent, an event which usually takes place in about six weeks from the commencement of the nest, she does not again leave home, but occupies herself solely in the task of depositing eggs as fast as cells can be formed by the workers for their reception.
“There are two methods by which the nests are enlarged by the workers after the queen has given up the task of building; some species choosing one, some adopting the other. One consists in forming a series of regular sheets or layers, which are made to overlap each other like the slates or tiles on the roof of a building, in the same way as is pursued by the queen of every species so long as she continues to be the architect. When a few of these sheets have been completed, that is, when they have been made to assume a spherical form, with only a small aperture for ingress and egress, each internal sheet is cut away, nearly but not quite, as fast as additional ones are formed externally, the shell or covering therefore slightly increasing in thickness as the nest increases in size. Thus architects among the human race are careful to proportion the thickness, and consequently the strength of the walls to the magnitude of the building designed to be erected.
“The other method consists in forming hollow pieces, or raising, as it were, blisters all over the plain surface which the queen has left; and upon these other blisters, and so on continually; cutting away, as in the former case, the under skin on the formation of the outer one. The latter method is adopted by the workers of V. crabro, V. vulgaris, and V. germanica; the former by V. Norvegica, V. sylvestris, V. rufa, and probably by V. arborea. Cutting away the inner portions of the coverings is a necessary process in order to make room for the increased size of the comb or combs. The material cut away is not thrown by as useless, but is worked up afresh; indeed this is effected in, and by, the very act of removing it; it is then either used in enlarging the combs or it is brought out and employed in making additions to the outside.
“As the nest increases in size, it is obvious that the cavity in which it is placed must be proportionably enlarged; accordingly, each wasp, as it emerges from the aperture, may be observed to bring out with it a small lump of earth which it has scraped from the walls of the chamber, care being taken to keep a clear space of about a quarter of an inch between the covering of the nest, and the walls of the chamber. About the same space also occurs between the combs, which are placed horizontally, with the mouth of the cells downwards; supporting columns or pillars being constructed at regular intervals so as to keep them at a proper distance apart, thus allowing the insects room to pass between them for the purpose of feeding the grubs. Supporting columns or pillars are also placed between the roof of the chamber and the crown of the nest, connecting the one with the other; and these supports are constantly strengthened as the increasing weight of the nest renders such a precaution necessary.
“The material of which the wasps’ nests are composed is a sort of paper manufactured chiefly from wood by the insects themselves; one species using sound wood for the purpose, another that which has become decayed. This they scrape by means of their jaws from posts, rails, gates, hurdles, &c., in which act it becomes mixed with some peculiar fluid with which they are provided; it then possesses nearly the same properties as the pulp from which paper is made, but is of firmer consistence. This is gathered in a small lump under the chest, to which it adheres, and in that way is carried to the nest.
“The operators having, after the exhibition of a considerable amount of fickleness in the choice, fixed upon a suitable place for commencing, or recommencing operations—for these remarks have reference to a nest already somewhat advanced in the building—place themselves along the edge of a yet unfinished piece, then walking slowly backward, spread the material as they go, along this edge, where it forms a thick streak; they then go forward to the point at which they began to spread the composition, again marching slowly backward, press this streak between their jaws, which acts as a pair of pincers, thus thinning it out throughout its whole length. They then go forward a second time, pressing it still thinner, and then a third, and so on, until they have rendered it sufficiently thin. Before this is accomplished, the operators have generally to go five or six times over their work. They do not return to the same spot with their next burden, but seek a fresh one, and thus allow the work they recently executed to become dry and firm, previous to making further additions to it. Possibly the material first ‘used up’ was from wood of a dark colour; the next may be from light-coloured wood, and the next from that of an intermediate colour; and this it is which gives so much beauty to the coverings of the nests of these insects.
“Vespa crabro and V. vulgaris are the only species which use decayed wood or touchwood in the fabrication of their nests; the other species employ sound wood, varied occasionally by sound vegetable fibre obtained from plants of different kinds.
“From the upper combs in a nest, workers are produced; from the lower ones, queens or females; and from the intermediate ones, males. Workers become developed early in the season, males not till an advanced period; and young females or queens not until towards the close of the season.
“The nests of V. crabro, V. vulgaris, and V. germanica, when of full size, measure not unfrequently twelve inches in diameter, the communities working on, in a favourable season, until the month of November; while the labours of the other species close, and the communities break up towards the end of August; their nests scarcely attaining to half the size of those above mentioned.”
The accompanying illustration exhibits the nest of the common wasp in an early stage. The first cover has been completed, and a second is in course of progress. We have now before us a beautiful series of wasps’ nests, in their various stages, prepared by Mr. Stone, in order to show the progressive enlargement of the edifice.
First, there is the single cell attached to a small part that had penetrated the roof of the burrow. Next comes a more advanced stage, in which three cells are made, and the roof is just begun, being not quite half an inch in diameter. Then come five cells, and a tolerably large roof; and then twelve cells, with a complete roof.
The next stage is that which is represented in the illustration, where the group of cells is seen suspended from its slender footstalk, and a second covering is in progress. By degrees the nest enlarges until the second layer or tier of cells is begun, while the first tier is occupied in the centre by the pupæ, sheltered by their little silk doors, and on the circumference by the larvæ, whose cells are still open in order to allow themselves to be fed by the nurse-wasps.
In these nests, the difference between the homes of Vespa vulgaris and those of V. germanica is very strongly marked, the former being yellowish brown, and the latter grey. One nest of V. germanica, is remarkable for being thickly studded with the long, white eggs of some insect, probably a parasite, which has gained admittance to the burrow, in spite of the care of its guardians. It may be here mentioned, that V. germanica is by far the most common species of wasp in England.
The illustration at p. 90 represents a completed nest of V. germanica. The rough, thick covering is seen outside, and within are the tiers of cells, each layer being supported by pillars from the layer immediately above. These pillars are always formed at the angle where these cells touch each other, so as to obtain as strong a foundation as possible. Only a very small space is left between the combs, just enough room, in fact, for the nurse-wasps to pass as they feed the young. The reader will remember that the young wasps all hang with their heads downwards, being held in their places by a sort of clasper at the end of the tail.]
When the foundress-wasp has completed a certain number of cells, and deposited eggs in them, she soon intermits her building operations, in order to procure food for the young grubs, which now require all her care. In a few weeks these become perfect wasps, and lend their assistance in the extension of the edifice; enlarging the original coping of the foundress by side walls, and forming another platform of cells, suspended to the first by columns, as that had been suspended to the ceiling.
In this manner several platforms of combs are constructed, the outer walls being extended at the same time; and, by the end of the summer, there is generally from twelve to fifteen platforms of cells. Each contains about 1060 cells—forty-nine being contained in an inch and a half square, and, of course, making the enormous number of about 16,000 cells in one colony. Réaumur, upon these data, calculates that one vespiary may produce every year more than 30,000 wasps, reckoning only 10,000 cells, and each serving successively for the cradle of three generations. But, although the whole structure is built at the expense of so much labour and ingenuity, it has scarcely been finished before the winter sets in, when it becomes nearly useless, and serves only for the abode of a few benumbed females, who abandon it on the approach of spring, and never return; for wasps do not, like mason-bees, ever make use of the same nest for more than one season.
Both Réaumur and the younger Huber studied the proceedings of the common wasp in the manner which has been so successful in observing bees—by means of glazed hives, and other contrivances. In this, these naturalists were greatly aided by the extreme affection of wasps for their young; for though their nest is carried off, or even cut in various directions, and exposed to the light, they never desert it, nor relax their attention to their progeny. When a wasp’s nest is removed from its natural situation, and covered with a glass hive, the first operation of the inhabitants is to repair the injuries it has suffered. They carry off with surprising activity all the earth or other matters which have fallen by accident into the nest; and when they have got it thoroughly cleared of everything extraneous, they begin to secure it from further derangement, by fixing it to the glass with papyraceous columns, similar to those which we have already described. The breaches which the nest may have suffered are then repaired, and the thickness of the walls is augmented, with the design, perhaps, of more effectually excluding the light.
The nest of the hornet is nearly the same in structure with that of the wasp; but the materials are considerably coarser, and the columns to which the platforms of cells are suspended are larger and stronger, the middle one being twice as thick as any of the others. The hornet, also, does not build underground, but in the cavities of trees, or in the thatch or under the eaves of barns. Réaumur once found upon a wall a hornet’s nest which had not been long begun, and had it transferred to the outside of his study-window; but in consequence, as he imagined, of the absence of the foundress-hornet at the time it was removed, he could not get the other five hornets, of which the colony consisted, either to add to the building or repair the damages which it had sustained.
M. Réaumur differs from our English naturalists, White, and Kirby and Spence, with respect to the materials employed by the hornet for building. The latter say that it employs decayed wood; the former, that it uses the bark of the ash-tree, but takes less pains to split it into fine fibres than wasps do; not, however, because it is destitute of skill; for in constructing the suspensory columns of the platforms, a paste is prepared little inferior to that made by wasps. We cannot, from our own observations, decide which of the above statements is correct, as we have only once seen a hornet procuring materials, at Compton-Bassett, in Wiltshire; and in that case it gnawed the inner bark of an elm which had been felled for several months, and was, consequently, dry and tough. Such materials as this would account for the common yellowish-brown colour of a hornet’s nest. (J. R.)
[The accompanying figure represents a completed hornet’s nest as it appears when suspended from a beam. Hornets often choose for their home the space between the roof and the ceiling of summer-houses, and the nests that are made in such localities are mostly large and handsome. The reader should notice the blisters by means of which the insect enlarges its habitation.]
When hornets make choice of a tree for their domicile, they select one which is in a state of decay, and already partly hollowed; but they possess the means, in their sharp and strong mandibles, of extending the excavation to suit their purposes; and Réaumur frequently witnessed their operations in mining into a decayed tree, and carrying off what they had gnawed. He observed, also, that in such cases they did not make use of the large hole of the tree for an entrance, but went to the trouble of digging a gallery, sufficient for the passage of the largest hornet in the nest, through the living and undecayed portion of the tree. As this is perforated in a winding direction, it is no doubt intended for the purpose of protecting the nest from the intrusion of depredators, who could more easily effect an entrance if there were not such a tortuous way to pass through.
[Here is an illustration of a hornet’s nest as it appears in the hollow of a tree. Industrious as is this insect, it never takes needless trouble, and alters its nest according to circumstances. As has already been seen, the combs are defended by a complete cover when the nest is placed in an open situation. But when it is built in the hollow of a tree there is no cover at all, the insect evidently knowing that the wooden wall with which the cells are surrounded, affords a sufficient protection. In cases where a cover is made, the hornets do not form only a single entrance, as is the case with the wasp, but have a large number of small entrances in different parts of the wall. Some of these entrances can be seen in the illustration on page 93.
Hornets are in one sense more industrious than wasps. When night falls, the wasps betake themselves to their home, and sleep throughout the night. But, if the moon be up, the hornet is sure to work throughout the entire night, and will often do so, even when no moon is visible.]
One of the most remarkable of our native social wasps is the tree-wasp (Vespa Britannica), which is not uncommon in the northern, but is seldom to be met with in the southern parts of the island. Instead of burrowing in the ground like the common wasp (Vespa vulgaris), or in the hollows of trees like the hornet (Vespa crabro), it boldly swings its nest from the extremity of a branch, where it exhibits some resemblance, in size and colour, to a Welsh wig hung out to dry. We have seen more than one of these nests on the same tree, at Catrine, in Ayrshire, and at Wemyss Bay, in Renfrewshire. The tree which the Britannic wasp prefers is the silver fir, whose broad flat branch serves as a protection to the suspended nest both from the sun and the rain. We have also known a wasp’s nest of this kind in a gooseberry-bush, at Red-house Castle, East Lothian. The materials and structure are nearly the same as those employed by the common wasp, and which we have already described. (J. R.)
[We have before us a beautiful example of a nest made by this species of wasp. There are no less than three consecutive coverings quite entire, while another is about three-fourths completed, and a fifth is just begun. The illustration exhibits a very perfect specimen.]
A singular nest of a species of wasp is figured by Réaumur, but is apparently rare in this country, as Kirby and Spence mention only a single nest of similar construction, found in a garden at East-Dale. This nest is of a flattened globular figure, and composed of a great number of envelopes, so as to assume a considerable resemblance to a half-expanded Provence rose. The British specimen mentioned by Kirby and Spence had only one platform of cells; Réaumur had two; but there was a large vacant space, which would probably have been filled with cells, had the nest not been taken away as a specimen. The whole nest was not much larger than a rose, and was composed of paper exactly similar to that employed by the common ground-wasp.X
[This is probably the nest of V. rufa. We possess several specimens of the nest, one of which corresponds tolerably closely with the edifice described in the work.]
There is another species of social-wasp (Epipone nidulans, Latr.) meriting attention from the singular construction of its nest. It forms one or more terraces of cells, similar to those of the common wasp, but without the protection of an outer wall, and quite exposed to the weather. Swammerdam found a nest of this description attached to the stem of a nettle. Réaumur says that they are sometimes attached to the branch of a thorn or other shrub, or to stalks of grass;—peculiarities which prove that there are several species of these wasps.
The most remarkable circumstance in the architecture of this species of vespiary is, that it is not horizontal, like those formerly described, but nearly vertical. The reason appears to be, that if it had been horizontal, the cells must have been frequently filled with rain; whereas, in the position in which it is placed, the rain runs off without lodging. It is, besides, invariably placed so as to face the north or the east, and consequently is less exposed to rains, which most frequently come with southerly or westerly winds. It is another remarkable peculiarity, that, unlike the nests of other wasps, it is covered with a shining coat of varnish, to prevent moisture from soaking into the texture of the wasp’s paper. The laying on this varnish, indeed, forms a considerable portion of the labour of the colony, and individuals may be seen employed for hours together spreading it on with their tongues.
[There is a genus of foreign hymenoptera, called Polistes, which is remarkable for the building powers possessed by its members. The accompanying illustration is taken from a nest in the British Museum, and is given of the natural size. The cells are not hexagonal, like those of the Epipone, but are roundish in form. Those in the centre assume a roughly hexagonal form by pressure, but those which form the circumference of the cell-group are nearly round, especially on their outer sides. The cells are not of uniform width, but are narrower at the base than at the mouth, thus causing the group to assume the form which is seen in the illustration. This curious group of cells was brought from Bareilly, in the East Indies, and in the same collection there are several other specimens, varying considerably both in shape and size.]
Few circumstances are more striking, with regard to insects, as Kirby and Spence justly remark, than the great and incessant labour which maternal affection for their progeny leads them to undergo. Some of these exertions are so disproportionate to the size of the insect, that nothing short of ocular conviction could attribute them to such an agent. A wild bee, or a wasp, for instance, as we have seen, will dig a hole in a hard bank of earth some inches deep, and five or six times its own size, labouring unremittingly at this arduous task for several days in succession, and scarcely allowing itself a moment for eating or repose. It will then occupy as much time in searching for a store of food; and no sooner is this finished, than it will set about repeating the process, and, before it dies, will have completed five or six similar cells, or even more.
We shall have occasion more particularly to dwell upon the geometrical arrangement of the cells, both of the wasp and of the social-bee, in our description of those interesting operations, which have long attracted the notice, and commanded the admiration of mathematicians and naturalists. A few observations may here be properly bestowed upon the material with which the wasp-family construct the interior of their nests.
The wasp is a paper-maker, and a most perfect and intelligent one. While mankind were arriving, by slow degrees, at the art of fabricating this valuable substance, the wasp was making it before their eyes, by very much the same process as that by which human hands now manufacture it with the best aid of chemistry and machinery. While some nations carved their records on wood, and stone, and brass, and leaden tablets,—others, more advanced, wrote with a style on wax,—others employed the inner bark of trees, and others the skins of animals rudely prepared,—the wasp was manufacturing a firm and durable paper. Even when the papyrus was rendered more fit, by a process of art, for the transmission of ideas in writing, the wasp was a better artisan than the Egyptians; for the early attempts at paper-making were so rude, that the substance produced was almost useless, from being extremely friable. The paper of the papyrus was formed of the leaves of the plant, dried, pressed, and polished; the wasp alone knew how to reduce vegetable fibres to a pulp, and then unite them by a size or glue, spreading the substance out into a smooth and delicate leaf. This is exactly the process of paper-making. It would seem that the wasp knows, as the modern paper-makers now know, that the fibres of rags, whether linen or cotton, are not the only materials that can be used in the formation of paper; she employs other vegetable matters, converting them into a proper consistency by her assiduous exertions. In some respects she is more skilful even than our paper-makers, for she takes care to retain her fibres of sufficient length, by which she renders her paper as strong as she requires. Many manufacturers of the present day cut their material into small bits, and thus produce a rotten article. One great distinction between good and bad paper is its toughness; and this difference is invariably produced by the fibre of which it is composed being long, and therefore tough; or short, and therefore friable.
The wasp has been labouring at her manufacture of paper from her first creation, with precisely the same instruments and the same materials; and her success has been unvarying. Her machinery is very simple, and therefore it is never out of order. She learns nothing, and she forgets nothing. Men, from time to time, lose their excellence in particular arts, and they are slow in finding out real improvements. Such improvements are often the effect of accident. Paper is now manufactured very extensively by machinery in all its stages; and thus, instead of a single sheet being made by hand, a stream of paper is poured out, which would form a roll large enough to extend round the globe, if such a length were desirable. The inventors of this machinery, Messrs. Fourdrinier, it is said, spent the enormous sum of 40,000l.. in vain attempts to render the machine capable of determining with precision the width of the roll; and, at last, accomplished their object, at the suggestion of a bystander, by a strap revolving upon an axis, at a cost of three shillings and sixpence. Such is the difference between the workings of human knowledge and experience, and those of animal instinct. We proceed slowly and in the dark, but our course is not bounded by a narrow line, for it seems difficult to say what is the perfection of any art; animals go clearly to a given point—but they can go no further. We may, however, learn something from their perfect knowledge of what is within their range. It is not improbable that if man had attended in an earlier state of society to the labours of wasps, he would have sooner known how to make paper. We are still behind in our arts and sciences, because we have not always been observers. If we had watched the operations of insects, and the structure of insects in general, with more care, we might have been far advanced in the knowledge of many arts which are yet in their infancy, for nature has given us abundance of patterns. We have learnt to perfect some instruments of sound by examining the structure of the human ear; and the mechanism of an eye has suggested some valuable improvements in achromatic glasses.
Réaumur has given a very interesting account of the wasps of Cayenne (Chartergus nidulans), which hang their nests in trees.Y Like the bird of Africa called the social grosbeak (Loxia socia), they fabricate a perfect house, capable of containing many hundreds of their community, and suspend it on high out of the reach of attack. But the Cayenne wasp is a more expert artist than the bird. He is a pasteboard-maker;—and the card with which he forms the exterior covering of his abode is so smooth, so strong, so uniform in its texture, and so white, that the most skilful manufacturer of this substance might be proud of the work. It takes ink admirably.
The nest of the pasteboard-making wasp is impervious to water. It hangs upon the branch of a tree, as represented in the engraving; and those rain-drops which penetrate through the leaves never rest upon its hard and polished surface. A small opening for the entrance of the insects terminates its funnel-shaped bottom. It is impossible to unite more perfectly the qualities of lightness and strength.
In the specimen from which we take our description, the length of which is nine inches, six stout circular platforms stretch internally across, like so many floors, and fixed all round to the walls of the nest. They are smooth above, with hexagonal cells on the under surface. These platforms are not quite flat, but rather concave above, like a watch-glass reversed; the centre of each platform is perforated for the admission of the wasps, at the extremity of a short funnel-like projection, and through this access is gained from story to story. On each platform, therefore, can the wasps walk leisurely about attending to the pupæ secured in the cells, which, with the mouths downward, cover the ceiling above their heads—the height of the latter being just convenient for their work.
[Unlike the habitations made by the British wasps, and which are vacated annually, this nest is permanent, and serves for several successive seasons. Of course, it must be enlarged continually, so as to accommodate an ever-increasing number of inhabitants. The mode of enlarging is sufficiently curious. The British wasps enlarge their nests either by making a larger covering and then removing the smaller, or by raising blisters on the outside, and eating away beneath them. But the pendulous wasp of Brazil proceeds on just the opposite principle, making new cells first, and covering them afterwards. The new tier of cells is set on the bottom of the nest, which thus becomes the floor of that tier, and a new bottom is then made beneath these new cells.]
Pendent wasps’ nests of enormous size are found in Ceylon, suspended often in the talipot-tree at the height of seventy feet. The appearance of these nests thus elevated, with the larger leaves of the tree, used by the natives as umbrellas and tents, waving over them, is very singular. Though no species of European wasp is a storer of honey, yet this rule does not apply to certain species of South America. In the ‘Annals and Magazine of Natural History’ for June, 1841, will be found a detailed account, with a figure, of the pendent nest of a species termed by Mr. A. White Myrapetra scutellaris. The external case consists of stout cardboard covered with conical knobs of various sizes. The entrances are artfully protected by pent-roofs from the weather and heavy rains; and are tortuous, so as to render the ingress of a moth or other large insect difficult. Internally are fourteen combs, exclusive of a globular mass, the nucleus of several circular combs, which are succeeded by others of an arched form—that is, constituting segments of circles. Many of the uppermost combs were found to have the cells filled with honey of a brownish-red colour, but which had lost its flavour. After entering into some minute details, Mr. A. White makes the following interesting observations:—“Azara, in the account of his residence in various parts of South America, mentions the fact of several wasps of these countries collecting honey. The Baron Walchenaer, who edited the French translation of this work, published in 1809, thought that the Spanish traveller, who was unskilled in entomology, had made some mistake with regard to the insects, and regarded the so-called wasps as belonging to some bee of the genus of which Apis amalthea is the type (Melipona). Latreille (who afterwards corrected his mistake) also believed that they must be referred to the genera Melipona or Trigona—insects which in South America take the place of our honey-bee. These authors were afterwards clearly convinced of the correctness of Azara’s observations, by the circumstance of M. Auguste de St. Hilaire finding near the river Uruguay an oval grey-coloured nest of a papery consistence, like that of the European wasps, suspended from the branches of a small shrub about a foot from the ground: he and two other attendants partook of some honey (contained in its cells) and found it of an agreeable sweetness, free from the pharmaceutic taste which so frequently accompanies European honey. He gives a detailed account of its poisonous effects on himself and his two men. Afterwards he procured specimens of the wasp, which was described by Latreille under the name of Polistes Lecheguana.”
The material is probably the dung of the Capincha, an animal allied to the guinea-pig and the agouti. The natives, at all events, state that such is the case, and the aspect of the nest as seen through a magnifying glass carries out this assertion. The nest is hung to a branch, and is seldom more than four feet from the ground. The insect is a very little one in comparison with the size of the nest, which is sixteen inches in length, and twelve in width. The largest specimens of this insect are only one third of an inch long, while the generality scarcely exceed a quarter of an inch. Its colour is brown.
In the section is shown the very peculiar shape of the combs. At the upper part is seen the globular centre, surrounded with a comb that completely encircles it. Other combs follow in order, but are less curved as they approach the bottom of the nest. The insects obtain admission to the several tiers by means of apertures which are left between the extremities of the comb and the wall of the nest. The combs are made of the same material as the outer wall, but are very thin and paper-like. This nest may be seen in the British Museum.]
It would seem that the nest described by Mr. White agrees with that of a wasp termed Chiguana by Azara (or Lecheguana), and is very different to the slight papery nest of the Polistes Lecheguana of Latreille. We may add that M. Auguste de St. Hilaire speaks of two species of wasps remarkable for storing honey in South America; the honey of one is white, of the other reddish. That the habits of these honey-wasps must differ considerably from those of any of our European species we may at once admit; perhaps in some points of their economy these insects may approach the bee.
[In the same country as is inhabited by the Myrapetra, and in much the same localities, is sometimes found the nest of another honey-making wasp, called Nectarinia analis, a small and plainly-clad insect. It is hung to the branches of low trees and underwood, and often includes both twigs and leaves in its structure. The combs of this insect are greatly curved, in order to suit the shape of the general covering, but are not arranged with that beautiful regularity which distinguishes those of the Myrapetra. A specimen of this nest may be seen in the British Museum, and as the outer covering has been partially taken away, the observer will be enabled to note the general form of the combs and the structure of the cells.
In the accompanying illustration are shown the habitations of two remarkable insects, both belonging to the Hymenoptera. Indeed, the greater number of pensile nests made by insects are formed by members of this important order; and, if we were to exclude all the wasps, bees, and ants, we should find that we had excluded about ninety per cent. of the pensile architects.
The left-hand figure represents a nest made by a species of Polybia, inhabiting Brazil. It is made of a papery kind of substance, of rather slight texture, and is fixed to the stalk of a reed. The outside of the nest is seen to be marked with a series of horizontal ribs. These show the progressive stages of the nest, each rib marking a layer of paper as it was spread by the insect builder. The combs extend throughout the entire nest, the largest occupying the centre, and the smallest the ends. Each comb is firmly supported by a footstalk, which is fixed, not to the upper tier of cells, as is the case with the British wasps, but to the reed on which the nest is built.
Other species of Polybia build nests different in shape and arrangement, though still of the pensile character. One species builds a nearly globular nest, made in a rather curious manner. Carrying out still farther the principle on which the cardboard wasp enlarges its nest, the Polybia entirely covers the outer wall with cells, and then makes a new wall over them. When a nest has reached a tolerable size, it is composed of a whole series of concentric combs, the roof of each having been originally the outer wall of the nest. There are in the British Museum some admirable specimens of these nests, in some of which the process of enlargement can be very clearly traced. Patches of new cells are seen upon the external covering, while a few breaches in the structure show the concentric combs.
One very curious point about these cells is, that they are not uniform in their direction, as is generally the case with those of social hymenoptera. The greater part, such as the various wasps, hornets, and their kin, have the mouths of the cells downwards, while the cells of the hive-bee are nearly horizontal. But the cells of this insect are arranged without the least regard to their position, all the bases pointing towards the centre of the nest, and all the mouths radiating outwards.
There seems to be scarcely any bound to the variety which exists in the nests of the social hymenoptera. The insect which makes the nest which is represented in the illustration is a native of Brazil, and is known to entomologists as Synæca cyanea. The first of these names is given to it on account of its social habits, and the second, in reference to the bluish colour of its body. It is rather larger than the preceding insects, being about three quarters of an inch in length. Its wings are brown.
The shape and size of the nest are exceedingly variable, but it is almost invariably longer than wide, and is fixed to a branch or some similar object. Sometimes it attains considerable dimensions, and has been known to measure a full yard in length. Yet, however large it may be, there is only a single comb, which is set upon the side of the nest next the branch, and, in consequence, has almost all its cells placed in a horizontal direction. In the illustration, the right-hand figure represents the external appearance of the nest, and the central figure shows the manner in which the single comb is set upon the branch. The nest which occupies the left hand of the illustration is made by a species of Polybia, and is here given in order to show a remarkable example of similarity in the mode of building adopted by two different insects. In the one case, however, the cells are all fastened by their bases to the branch, but in the other the cells are attached to one common base which is prolonged into a footstalk.
There have been lately discovered some very remarkable social nests. Specimens of both these nests may be seen in the entomological department of the museum at Oxford.
The first is formed very much like a rather flattened Florence flask, and is hung by the neck from the branch of a tree. It is made of a strong, parchment-like substance, formed by innumerable silken threads woven and matted together into a kind of felt. When it was cut open a most singular sight was exhibited. Nearly the whole of the interior was covered with the pupæ of some butterfly, all hanging by their tails, and many of them suspended to a twig which projected downwards into the nest. Although the nest is barely eight inches in length, a great proportion of which is taken up by the neck, about one hundred pupæ were found in it. At the bottom of the nest is a small and nearly circular aperture, through which the insects could make their way as soon as they escaped from the pupal envelope, and before their wings became extended and hardened.
The butterfly which makes this singular nest is a native of Mexico, and is named Eucheira socialis. The colour of its wings is dark brown, with an ill-defined white band across them.
The second nest was brought from tropical Africa, and is remarkable for another peculiarity. It is shaped much like a cushion, and its measurements are, eight inches in length, five and a half in breadth, and three in depth. Instead of having only one place of exit for the inmates, it has thirteen or fourteen, all formed in the same manner. A number of short, stiff, and almost bristly threads are set round the apertures, their ends all projecting outwards, and converging to a point, where they all meet and even slightly cross each other. Owing to this structure, it is easy enough for any of the insects to pass out, as the converging hairs yield to the pressure, whereas they form an effectual barrier against any insect that wishes to creep into the nest.
The material of the nest is very strong and hard, and is formed of two layers, the inner being made of smooth brown silk, and the outer of harsher and stronger orange silk threads.]