” Shall these enjoy our lands? Lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters?! …
March on, join bravely, let us to’t pell-mell
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell. ”
The city center square of Leicester is a typical Midlands city center, with Islamic preachers setting up roadside tables to sell books which are supposed to promote the virtues of Islamic life, a couple of Nigerian pastors shouting that Bible says the world is going to end soon, somehow managing to exist peacefully, perhaps aided by the fact that two unarmed “police-couple” (it’s usually a man and a woman in England, gender equality and all that) watching over for signs of trouble. There were a few yobs sitting in the market square, heavy rank of weed. Over all sunny day, and indifferent people.
It however looks like a complete different city when you cross around five hundred meters to Leicester Cathedral. Empty street, very English, with pubs, and tea shops, and lots of overhanging lavenders and limoniums, with a few curious passerby looking at me. Enter the huge Cathedral, and you will see very familiar twenty year olds sitting and munching kebab, in the Cathedral lawn. So much for respect for historical sites.
I was met with curious looks, every where I went. The group in the lawn munching kebab was curious, as was the incredibly polite lady of the cloth, who was surprised that I actually knew about the Battle of Bosworth, and more or less familiar with English history.
I don’t blame them. They don’t probably see many Asians, other than Chinese people in tour groups taking selfies in front of fountains and gargoyles. Indians and Pakistanis, the former subjects of the British crown, either are typical Labour voters, which means they either dislike, or are indifferent about everything about ancient Britain and carries a colonial legacy, or are just here for work and jobs, and don’t often come to Cathedrals or read up about obscure Kings who died in battles in the middle ages.
Except, Richard the Third wasn’t obscure.