The Royal Parks have spoken: no, London’s swans are not being roasted for supper. Their cygnets are intact, their lakes tranquil, their wildlife officers alert. Yet for a moment this week the nation was asked to imagine Eastern Europeans stalking Hyde Park by moonlight, stuffing swans into shopping bags. Nigel Farage, on LBC, suggested as much.

It is a fine fantasy. One can picture Henry VIII applauding from the bank of the Serpentine, fork in hand, as the birds are borne aloft like Tudor delicacies. But times have changed. The swan has slipped the spit and become untouchable: a symbol, a ballet, a subject for poetry rather than pies. The only things actually consumed in the parks are 99 Flakes, picnic sandwiches and the occasional Pret salad.

Still, since Farage alluded to Eastern Europ

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