A “Murder of Crows” – The Meaning and Story That Became a Murder of Crows

Every species of birds seems to have it’s own descriptive name. We have a flock of geese, and a venue of vultures, thought vultures have also been known as a “committee”. Buzzards in a group are known as a wake.

Eagles hold what appears to be a more noble name, very full of honor. When more than one eagle gathers it is known as a congregation or convocation, meaning a gathering of some higher purpose.

Hummingbirds, when gathered, are referred to as a “charm”, though I would say that that the sight of even one hummingbird fulfills that name.

Stepping outside the focus on birds, ladybirds, ladybugs, and ladybeetles in mass are called a loveliness. As for butterflies, their naming ranges from kaleidoscope to a flutter or rainbow.

What of the crow and its somewhat similar raven? Perhaps their naming, calling a group to be a “murder of crows” dates back to the 6th century B.C. and the life, or more accurately the death, of the poet Ibycus. It is said that Ibycus was attacked and murdered by robbers, and as he laid dying a “murder” of crows flew overhead. Ibycus called upon the crows to assist him and be witness to this tragic event. Later, in the marketplace, the same “murder” of crows flew over. One of the murderers said, “There are the avengers of Ibycus”. Those around to hear these words quickly associated this statement with the recently discovered murder, and the men were apprehended and tortured. They soon confessed their guilt, and were punished for their crime.

The account of this story varies by source, with the word crane used in place of crow, but in the translation of the greek words the word for crane refers to “the birds associated with the death of Ibycus.

This poet, know more for his death than his poetry that Cicero celebrated for their spirit and dignity, was known more for his tragic ending than his otherwise obscure life. As a sample of his poetry:

Ibycus says: “In spring the Cydonian apple-trees put forth blossoms, watered by the river-streams where the Nymphs have their inviolable haunt; and the vine-buds come forth, growing under the foliage of the vine-shoots. But for me Love knows no season of slumber, — like the north wind of Thrace, that rages amid lightnings.”

Interested in learning more about crows? Check out the DVD Nature: A Murder of Crows.