I realized, upon further reflection, that I should have gone into more detail on the Tower of London. I thought I had covered it in my last study abroad blog, but it seems I never got that far. I've reused some of the photos from last trip to supplement, so don't be surprised when a family member shows up in the background--they were at Stonehenge, honestly!
The Tower of London's function is not primarily as a prison. It is technically a royal palace and a fortress (though why they say "palace," I don't know. It is clearly a castle. They need to go back to Medieval Architecture 101). Royalty used to live here, members of the military still live here, it functioned as a royal mint, it houses the royal jewels...and oh, yeah, it was also a convenient place to lock people up occasionally.
The Tower was "founded" in 1066 (whatever that means) by William the Conqueror, but the actual central tower, the White Tower, wasn't built until 1078. King William used it as his royal residence while in London, and it wasn't until the 12th century that they used sections of it as a prison.
Kings kept expanding it over the next couple centuries, still using it primarily as their royal residence. The blueprint we have today is roughly the same as it was in the 13th century.
As a royal residence, the main concern was defense. The aim wasn't to keep people inside, it was to keep people from entering (not a very prison-like mentality).
Archers, catapults, lion pits, spiked portcullises...you name it, it had it. Our tour guide got his degree in medieval defense architecture (can you say awesome?!) and he went on like a gleeful child about merlons, moats, and murder holes. Emily and I loved it. The parents of small children were less impressed.
Speaking of lion pits, the Tower at one point also functioned as a medieval zoo. The way our tour guide told it, royalty enjoyed giving royalty from other countries gifts that were both lavish and useless. More than useless--gifts that were royal pains in the recipients' royal hineys. King Haakon of Norway gave Henry III a polar bear in 1252. Henry now found himself obligated to find the funds and resources to house, feed, and care for a polar bear, or risk offending his powerful neighbor. Gifts of lions, monkeys, an elephant, a zebra, and a leopard all made their way to the Tower's Royal Menagerie. 
One of the Yeoman Warders, nicknamed Beefeaters. There are twelve of them on duty at the Tower at any given time. Their official job was to guard prisoners and the crown jewels, but now in the 21st century, where there are no prisoners held at the Tower and plenty of security guards, CCTV cameras, shatterproof glass, and laser tripwires to be had, they now function mostly as tour guides and are present at the occasional ceremonial event.
They are, however, real soldiers. In order to be a Yeoman Warder, you have to have served in the armed forces for at least 22 years.
The Yeoman Warders and their families live in the Tower. These are their houses.
There are also plain ceremonial guards and regular, non-ceremonial guards who work at the Tower. Sorry, BBC--criminal mastermind he may be, but I don't see Moriarty breaking into this place.
Screen clip from BBC's Sherlock, photo taken from http://lainieyeoh.tumblr.com/
Just after the main entrance.
These rings were placed some centuries ago to prevent guards from ducking around a corner to take five.
The White Tower is at the heart of the Tower of London. It now functions as a museum that focuses on royal armor (and some torture implements, but I didn't feel the need to see those. I like action, not horror).
Henry VIII's armor.
Bad-ass helmet.
Wicked sword.
Because the Tower used to be royal living quarters, there are also some normal, non-battle things, like a chapel.
But what about the prisoners? The executions? The bloody reputation? Where's the exciting stuff?
Okay, okay. Hold your horses, Quentin. I'm getting there.
The height of the Tower's function as a prison was in the 16th - 17th century. They didn't put just any regular brigand, thief, or traitorous commoner in there, either. You had to be blue-blooded and important. William Wallace wasn't imprisoned there and was executed outside of the Tower because Edward I didn't think him worthy of the honor.
The Tower website (and tour guides) is quick to inform people that, up until the 20th century, only seven people were executed at the Tower: William Hastings, Anne Boleyn, Margaret Pole, Catherine Howard, Jane Boleyn, Lady Jane Grey, and Robert Devereux.
What the website likes to brush over is the fact that another 25 pre-WWI executions were conducted on the nearby Tower Hill, the more popular execution site because it was open to the public. You had to be special to be imprisoned in the Tower, extra-special to be condemned to die on Tower Hill, and just short of royalty to be executed before a private audience in the Tower itself.
Those who were admitted to the Tower (such an honor!) came by boat through Traitor's Gate.
At the time, this wasn't a symbolic gate. It was the easiest way into the Tower, one that didn't require pulling up portcullises, letting down heavy drawbridges, et cetera. "Traitor's Gate" was a nickname that got picked up and stuck.
The memorial to Anne Boleyn, and by extension, the other people executed on Tower Green. This memorial is a spot of contention, as many feel that traitors to the Crown don't deserve a fancy monument.
The rooms where Saint/Sir Thomas More, adviser to Henry VIII and author of Utopia, was held prisoner prior to his execution on Tower Hill.
And what about after 1914?
During WWI, eleven men were tried for espionage and faced the firing squad. In WWII, prisoners were again held at the Tower, including Rudolf Hess. The last person to be imprisoned and executed at the Tower was Josef Jakobs, a German spy.
The plaque next to this chair in the White Tower museum explains that "due to the low height of the bullet catcher in the range, Jakobs had to be shot sitting down--hence the damage to the chair back."
My favorite part of Tower lore is of a much less gruesome nature. Legend has it that the day the ravens leave the Tower is the day the Tower falls--and by extension, so falls the kingdom. Charles II (1660) got a bit more specific and said there had to be at least six ravens in the Tower at all times, though I think his larger number was chosen mostly to rankle his royal astronomer, who had groused that the ravens kept messing up his Tower observatory. To ensure that the Tower never goes raven-less, the royal family has for centuries employed a Raven Master to care for and keep the birds. It's a very honorable position. Nowadays, the Tower keeps seven ravens onsite--six and a spare. Six wander the grounds, and the seventh (a rotating position), gets to spend some quality time in the enclosed habitat.
The current unkindness (a group of ravens is called an unkindness; for crows, a murder) is comprised of Hardey, Thor, Odin, Gwyllum, Cedric, Hugin, and Munin. Hugin and Munin, by the way, are the two ravens that accompany Odin, and their names mean Thought and Memory. The last raven, Grog, decided he didn't want to live in the Tower anymore, escaped, and was last seen outside an East End pub.
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