Our investigator of Nottingham weird history checks out the strange tale of the cheese riots.
Without trying to sound like too much of a broken record or a grandparent who yearns for the good ol’ days (when 99p flakes were sold at face value) it’s clear that things have gotten slightly more expensive over time. With Nando’s on a steady trajectory to becoming a fine dining experience and Apple making up monthly payments where they see fit, our money really doesn’t go as far as it used to. Yet whilst these financial pressures can leave a sour taste in our mouths when buying almost anything, I highly doubt anything compares to the way in which Nottingham locals reacted to the increased price of a certain wheel-shaped dairy product in 1766.
England at the time was plagued with bad weather, which meant that food harvests suffered leading to mass food shortages across the country. With a lack of grain for farmers to feed their livestock, this meant a reduced amount of animal produce was available. Unfortunately, when there is a reduced supply of a certain good, prices tend to rise.
Historians described the population of Notts as a highly combustible populus, which essentially means rough as houses. Now when you combine a lairy population with a dairy drought, things can ironically get a bit tasty.
At the annual Goose Fair, held back in those days in the Old Market Square, cheese stalls sold fifty kilo wheels of cheese at 36 shillings (£180 in today’s money). This new price was double the price of cheese wheels being sold in Coventry which meant locals were priced out. As a group of merchants from Lincolnshire attempted to leave with a carriage full of brie, a group of ‘rude lads’ approached the merchants and demanded they spread the cheddar amongst the residents. When they refused, all hell broke loose.
Whilst the merchants were getting their heads filled in, women and children began to fleece the carriage of feta. Due to their sheer size and weight, the only plausible way of transporting the wheels was to roll them along the streets. The Mayor of Notts, Robbie Swann, stepped in to disarm the brie bandits but unfortunately for Mr Swann, he was pummelled by an oncoming brigade of rogue cheese wheels. He rose to his feet and retreated to his home where he sent a messenger to Derby to call in the army.
Prior to their arrival, local authorities arrested the ‘rude lads’ and held them in a coffee shop. The lack-of-cheese-fuelled mob caught wind of their arrest (due to their lingering stench) and began breaking windows and pavements to the sound of Limp Bizkit’s Break Stuff. If you listen to the tune whilst reading this article, it completely changes the meaning of the song.
The authorities had no choice but to release the turophiles. Unfortunately, the riots continued for a total of five days. When the cavalry regiment arrived from Derby, they began opening fire on the rioters leaving many injured, and fatally wounding one farmer. Mr William Eggleston was the only victim of dairy-related violence which is rather tragic given his familiar association with another round shaped dairy product. Eggleston was mistaken for a rioter and shot as he was protecting his own pile of queso.
The riots continued outside of the city centre as a warehouse and cargo ship were both looted. Hungry for Taleggio, a small number of rioters headed towards Trent Bridge to burn down a windmill. Fortunately, one of the cheese aficionados remembered he had some Red Leicester and crackers back home. The rioters put down their pitchforks and went for a picnic to calm their nerves.
On the final day of the riots, wagon-loads of cheese were sent out of the city under armed escort to prevent further chaos and de-brie.
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