If you love apples, as I do, then late-summer and autumn in New England and the Upper Midwest—apple harvest time—is one of the best times of the year. I recently paid a visit to a favorite nearby orchard and picked up some tasty ciders (some hard, some fresh-pressed), some apple and pear dessert wines, and a peck or two of a variety of eating and applesauce-making apples, almost all of them heirloom varieties, including:

Photo credit: Reed Perkins, 2026

Clockwise from left: the [Doctor] Harvey, “sweet-tart and fragrant,” a “classic English cooking apple from 1629, East Anglia”; the Blenheim Orange, “firm, crisp and tart,” discovered in Oxfordshire in 1740 and the Gravenstein, “crisp, juicy, semi-sweet.” We selected about eight or nine kinds of apples and brought home enough to eat some while fresh, and to make the rest into a gallon or so of applesauce for the fridge and the freezer. All in all, a pleasant and not-too-strenous day’s work.

But what did our orchard-growing, mid-1800s pioneers do with all their apples once the harvest was in? How do you peel, slice, process and preserve bushels of apples before they spoil? Well, you might invite some friends and neighbors over and have a party…

An Apple-Bee!

That’s right, you could process all those fresh-picked apples, and have a fine bit of social fun, by hosting an apple-bee!

This image of a New York or New England apple-bee was drawn by Winslow Homer. Titled “Fall Games – The Apple-Bee” it was published in “Harper’s Weekly” on November 26, 1859, p.761. Our image comes courtesy of the National Gallery of Art.

Apple-bee?

The usage is American, and is supposed to have first appeared in 1827. Many of you may be familiar with sewing-bees and quilting-bees. Noah Webster’s American Dictionary of the English Language, Springfield, Mass., 1860, gives the following as the second definition of the noun bee (the first definition of bee is, of course, for the insect of the genus Apis):

Why use “bee” to indicate a task-focused gathering? I’m not really sure, but I assume it equates the productive, group-work of the industrious honey bee with the similar, “many hands make light work” approach of “bee” participants. In any case, an apple-bee was—and still is, in some places—a “joint, voluntary, and gratuitous” way to gather together, help your neighbors process the harvest, and have some fun with your family and friends, as in today’s engraving.

Taking a closer look

For a better sense of what the mid-1800s apple-bee was all about, let’s take a moment to zoom in on some details in Homer’s 1859 engraving. First of all, it appears that much of the apple-peeling was done with a simple knife, perhaps while seated near—and chatting with—family, friends, or even a potential suitor…

But on the left side of the main image, one young gent has abandoned the knife and diligently employs one of the new mechanical apple-parer (or -peeler) devices, under the eagle-eyed observation of the old folks (who seem dubious about this new, labor-saving technology)…

And to keep the young children busy, why not give them a sharp knife and (what looks like) a large pumpkin? Whatever the kids are carving, it appears to be well on its way to becoming a pipe-smoking jack-o-lantern…

Like other social events of the era, an apple-bee could provide romantic couples with an opportunity to dance, converse, or sneak an embrace, or even kiss or two, in this case under the not-very-watchful eye of an older, cider-drinking gentleman (and the glowering gaze of the woman seated in front of him)…

There was food, too. In the background, a women carries a platter with a very large, round item on it. I’m not at all sure what this is. A tureen? A covered dish hiding a large fowl or ham? A large pumpkin or melon? Perhaps one of those huge, steamed, British-style dessert puddings? I can’t tell. Readers: what do you think?

Below the woman’s arm, on a table or counter top, is a large covered dish (or loaf of bread?), a smaller covered item to its left (perhaps a butter dish?) and a pitcher and drinking glasses. And above all, hanging from hooks in the ceiling, are strings of newly-peeled apple slices, already drying for winter storage.

Did the Clarks host an apple-bee?

That’s a good question. I’ve still not had time to examine the Mequon agricultural schedules for the 1850, ’60 and ’70 federal censuses, so I don’t know if the Clarks—or their neighbors—grew apples or not. For more on apples and apple cider, and an interesting Currier & Ives print of cider-making in New England (something JMC might have experienced as a lad), see our November 8, 2023 post Autumn in New England: Cider Making. And for more information on other heirloom varieties of apples, click over to our November 22, 2022 post Tasting History.

That’s all for today. Did you enjoy today’s post? Have you been to an apple-bee? I’d love to hear your thoughts; just leave a comment below.

I’ll be back with more Clark Heritage & History in just a bit.