The other day I was doing some research into the history of beekeeping and found something very interesting that I would like to share with you. Researchers have found that early civilizations, such as the Minoans, believed that bees were the spirits of dead sacred bulls. In fact, the Egyptian word Apis, the root word for apiary, means bull. With the spread of the Roman Empire to Egypt and other Mediterranean countries, this word became a part of the language of the Empire, Latin. In Latin, however, this word translates as "bee". This little known fact of language history reflects the ancient belief in bougonia or the conversion of the carcass of a sacred bull into its spirit, the bee. The poet Virgil wrote of this belief in Georgics book IV describing this belief.
First in a place by nature close, they build A narrow flooring, guttered walled, and tiled. In this, four windows are contrived , that strike, To the four winds opposed, 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. Knocked down he dies: his bowels, bruised within, Betray no wound on his unbroken skin. Extended thus, in this obscene abode They leave the beast; but first sweet flowers are strewed Beneath his body, broken boughs and thyme, And pleasing cassia, just renewed 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 through the bones ferment. Then (wondrous to behold) new creatures rise, A moving mass at first, and short of thighs; Till, shooting out with legs, and imped 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: At length like summer storms from spreading clouds, That burst at once, and pour impetuous floods- Or flights of arrows from the Parthian bows, When from afar they gall embattled foes- With such a tempest through the skies they steer; And such a form the winged squadrons bear. What god , O muse! this useful science taught? Or by what man's experience was it brought?
Until I read about this, I had no idea that those little bees in my few hives had such a long and storied history. I never imagined that they were the object of religious worship, classic literature, and folklore. I knew that I was fascinated by them, but I never realized that this fascination has been shared with philosophers since the beginnings of recorded history. Oh, well, you learn something new every day.
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