Ganging up on the family of birds with a terrible reputation

Perhaps the most reviled was the raven, the largest of the group and a sombre character with its black plumage and croaky voice.

This might have been due to the raven's liking for carrion and, some time ago, a friend produced an interesting theory that ravens frequented the Tower of London because of the executions which once took place within its walls.

It is claimed they even fed on human remains after the axeman had done his job. Indeed, they are reputed to have fed on the carcasses of victims of our infamous roadside gibbets.

I do not know whether this is true, but the ravens are still in the Tower. In fact, they are so much a part of the Tower of London's history that it has long been said that, if the birds abandon it, bad luck and disaster will strike England.

One interesting point is that the saying "seven for a secret never to be told" is associated with people who have been executed on Tower Green.

This well-known phrase is also linked to the sighting of seven magpies (also members of the crow family) and seven sneezes, but my friend, who specialises in research into nursery rhymes, has produced a list of seven English people who were executed on Tower Green, not within the Tower.

In fact, those seven are the only ones known to have been executed on the Green and, for a time, seven ravens were kept at the Tower in the belief they bore the spirits of those people.

The seven English victims were William Lord Hastings (1483), Ann Boleyn (1536), Margaret Countess of Salisbury (1541), Catherine Howard (1542), Lady Jane Rochford (1542), Lady Jane Grey (1554) and Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex (1601).

It is those seven victims whose deaths are commemorated in that line "seven for a secret never to be told", the secret being the true reason for their deaths.

This is not the only link with ravens at the Tower of London. The head of a Welsh chief called Bran (which means raven) is said to be buried on Tower Hill, facing France.

Interestingly enough, I have also received a letter from a reader in Staithes who refers to my recent notes about the raven which defends a treasure hidden beneath the ruins of Gisborough Priory (D&S, May 7).

She reminds me that the Danish invaders used the emblem of a raven on their banners, with Earl Siward referring to his banner as Ravenlandeye, meaning Raven, terror of the land.

He died in York some years before the Domesday Book was produced, and on his death bed said: "Put on me my coat of mail, gird my sword, place my helmet on my head, give me my shield in my right hand and my battle axe in my left, thus as a valiant soldier I have lived, even so will I die."

His banner survived and my correspondent tells me it was still around until about 100 years ago, when it was thrown out because someone thought it was an old rag! Is this a true tale or does that banner still exist somewhere?

There are many links with ravens in this region, ranging from farms with names like Raven Hall or Raven Hill, country houses like Ravensworth and villages like Ravenscar on the North Yorkshire coast.

Another village was Ravenser, near Hull, but this no longer exists. It vanished during the fourteenth century owing to coastal erosion, although Shakespeare mentioned it in Richard III.

The raven is a huge bird, slightly bigger than a mallard duck, and it is the largest species of perching bird in the world.

Owing to its long association with evil and the devil, it has never been liked by the people of this country and this might be the reason it has adapted to the higher ground, being rarely seen in the lowlands but more likely to be spotted in the mountains of Wales, the Lake District and Scotland.

It is almost impossible to ignore due to its immense size and totally black colour. Although it eats a lot of carrion, it will tackle live prey, usually small birds and mammals. It will, however, also eat eggs, seeds, insects and reptiles!

Not surprisingly, many myths and legends surround the raven. It features strongly in Norse mythology, but in England there are varying beliefs about this bird.

In Lincolnshire, for example, it is unlucky to hear the cry of the raven and yet in some parts of England it was considered lucky to catch sight of one.

In Wales, the sight of a single bird meant bad luck if it was seen before starting a journey and in Cornwall it was long said that King Arthur of the Round Table lived on in the form of a raven.

In Somerset, it had regal status and people would doff their hats to it, while in West Yorkshire badly-behaved children were told a raven would carry them away if they did not behave!

Are blackbirds becoming more aggressive? I've noticed several examples of their behaviour in recent days, all within the confines of our garden.

Certainly, both male and female blackbirds appear to be tamer than in the past, taking little notice of humans as they go about their daily routine. They will beg scraps from us if we are eating outdoors, even walking beneath our table and chairs while we are using them. And they will seek grubs in the garden almost at the foot of my spade.

The day before writing these notes, my wife noticed a lot of wet leaves on our drive, clearly having been thrown out of the roof gutter on our utility room.

We had no idea how they had been lifted from the gutter until a female blackbird appeared. She sat on the gutter and chattered angrily at my wife, who then moved a short distance away.

The blackbird then proceeded to lift out huge beakfuls of wet leaves and carry them into the hedge only a couple of feet from my wife.

The bird was nest-building, the third such nest in our garden, and she clearly resented human presence, even if she was not frightened or deterred by it.

On another occasion, I saw a male blackbird attack a wood pigeon which was doing nothing more than perching on a telephone wire, and then, as I was enjoying my lunch in the garden today, there was an almighty commotion among the resident birds.

Blackbirds and sparrows were making a tremendous racket, and then I saw the culprit. It was a magpie and it was evidently on a foraging mission, hunting chicks.

An amazing thing then happened. As if upon a command from someone in authority, four male blackbirds appeared from somewhere and flew into our cherry tree to chatter angrily at the magpie, now sitting on our garage roof.

Then several sparrows joined the blackbirds in the tree. It was almost like an army assembling for battle, whereupon the magpie decided to leave.

It flew into a silver birch two gardens away, but the army of garden birds decided it had not gone far enough. Shouting at it, our gallant soldiers launched an aerial attack on the magpie, led by the blackbirds with the sparrows bringing up the rear - and then a wren joined the battle.

It tagged on behind this feathered onslaught and together this determined little army drove the magpie away.

Here was nature at war, but it was delightful to witness those small birds of differing species harnessing their mutual strength to chase off an intruder.

We spent last weekend in Lincoln, where we explored the famous Steep Hill and its old world shops and restaurants, along with the castle and magnificent cathedral.

A Morris dancing display was under way outside the cathedral, complete with music, bells and tassels, but inside I decided to locate the famous Lincoln Imp.

That is a true challenge. Even though leaflets inform visitors of the Imp's whereabouts high above the Angel Choir, he remains very elusive. He is a small stone figure with the face of a gargoyle and he sits below a decorative frieze on top of a tall pillar. He is not easy to see among the adornments of the frieze.

There are several versions of the legend of the Lincoln Imp, but it is said he was a mischievous elf who once created havoc within the cathedral and, as punishment, was turned to stone by one of the cathedral's guardian angels.

Another version is that Lincoln Imp was the name of a famous racehorse upon which a king made a very successful bet!