His job really is for the birds

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, tower of london, ravens, ravenmaster

This publicity photo from the London Daily Mail shows Christopher Skaipe, the Ravenmaster of the Tower of London, with one of his charges. He writes in The Ravenmaster: My Life With the Ravens at the Tower of London that if you value your fingers, you'll forbear any attempt at excess familiarity with a raven who doesn't know you. Where a crow could give you a painful peck, even draw a bit of blood, a raven can remove a finger joint.

The Yeomen Warders of the Tower are chosen from military men with an unblemished career of at least 22 years. After he retired from 24 years of distinguished service, begun when he was in his teens, the author was told of opportunities to work at the Tower. To his surprise, after some backing-and-forthing, he was taken on. A few years later he was mentored in raven care by the then Ravenmaster, Rocky Stones. In 2011 he became the sixth Ravenmaster.

"Oh!", you might say, "Isn't raven keeping at the Tower a very ancient tradition?" There are legends aplenty surrounding the Tower's famous ravens, in particular how, should they all depart or die, England will suffer catastrophe. The actual practice of caring for the ravens may have begun in the time of Charles II, in about 1650. The Yeomen Warders, who might have been surreptitiously feeding and protecting the ravens, took upon themselves a more formal caring role, but the "job" of Ravenmaster dates to 1946.

The Tower, formally Her Majesty's Royal Palace and Fortress the Tower of London, began as a stout fortress begun in about 1078 by William I ("the Conqueror"). The original White Tower remains, and two rings of structures have been added in the centuries since. It is a place literally swirling with eerie, bloody, fascinating legends.

The birds themselves are legendary. Charles II is said to have decreed that no fewer than six ravens be kept. A bit of judicious wing-trimming ensures that they can fly from danger when needed, but will find it too exhausting to go far beyond the walls. Apparently, the meaning of "judicious" has varied over the years, and at least a couple of birds, over-zealously trimmed, fell to their deaths before more recent Ravenmasters "got it right". Ravenmaster Skaipe has had much to do with "getting it right", not only about the appropriate balance of freedom and restriction for the birds, but about their night dwellings, which they usually enter quite readily. They know of the foxes of the area, and that their Ravenmaster has a great responsibility, keeping ravens and foxes quite separate. Nonetheless, one of the ravens, 11-year-old Merlina, frequently flies and climbs to the top of the White Tower and spends the night there.

These birds have at least as much personality as the people around them. Merlina is a loner, Munin has a love-hate relationship with Skaipe, Erin has a "hobby" of picking a quarrel with one of the others, they each have their own way of stealing food from unfortunate humans in the vicinity, and so forth.

A raven is a big bird. At first it is hard to tell a raven from a crow. This poster from KidWings (the web site is mainly about owls) shows the differences. A crucial bit of missing data: a typical raven weighs 2.5 times as much as a typical crow or rook. Think of an all-black red-tailed hawk; they are that size.

So, what does a Ravenmaster feed the birds? Though they are excellent hunters and can fend for themselves, they do enjoy treats in the form of dog biscuits soaked in blood (In the book, the type of blood is not mentioned. I suppose pig or beef blood from a butcher will do). Also, the Ravenmaster prepares food for them twice daily, so they won't feel the need to hunt perpetually. It won't do for the public to see two of them entrap a pigeon and gobble it down, from center to skin, in the middle of the Green.

Each chapter illuminates a different facet of life, literally, with the birds. The author believes he has the best job on Earth. I reckon he is right about that.