THE ruling class — every ruling class, everywhere and everywhen — fears little else the way it fears rising food prices. People will put up with a lot, but when they can’t afford to eat, they do tend to set fire to things. Food riots can end regimes.

At the turn of the 18th into the 19th century, the price of bread in Britain reached historic highs. This was in a time when bread made up by far the greatest part of most people’s diets and used up most of their income. The consequent desperation of the population led to Parliament passing the Stale Bread Act and the Brown Bread Act — as well as to a superbly literate riot in the City of London.

The hunger protests reached the capital during the night of September 13-14 1800, which was Saturday into Sunday, when unknown hands attached placards to the Monument reading:

“Bread will be sixpence the Quartern if the People will assemble at the Corn Market on Monday. Fellow Countrymen, How long will ye quietly and cowardly suffer yourselves to be imposed upon, and half-starved by a set of mercenary slaves and government hirelings? Can you still suffer them to proceed in their extensive monopolies, while your children are crying for bread? No! Let them exist not a day longer. We are the sovereignty; rise then from your lethargy. Be at the Corn Market on Monday.”

By opening time on Monday morning, the Corn Exchange — like a stock exchange, but just for grain — was besieged by a crowd of about 2,000 hangry Londoners.

Many people wanted the government to take over responsibility for bread pricing and supply, and blamed the merchants and speculators of the Exchange (at least in part) for the crisis. But the government, like so many since, was committed to the idiocy of the free market principle.

For six days, the Corn Exchange was unable to open. Anyone who approached the building was hissed, jostled and pelted with mud. When the Lord Mayor of London turned up to tell the crowd that they were wasting their time, his words were drowned out by choruses of “Cheap bread! Cheap bread!” and “Three loaves for 18 pence!”

The protesters were cleared by force, only to pop up elsewhere — including at the home of a corn speculator who’d been convicted in court of “forestalling and regrating,” which meant deliberately withholding grain from the market so as to put the price up.

It would be an exaggeration to say that he got what he deserved; he survived the night, but he didn’t have much of a house to come home to the next day. The homes of known or suspected grain merchants received similar visits.

Several nights of rioting followed, leaving much of the City without an intact pane of glass or street lantern to be found, until soldiers finally managed to restore that temporary and illusory condition known as “order.” Within days, the price of bread was lowered by a significant margin.

And just in case you’re still wondering: the Brown Bread Act of 1800 banned the sale of bread made with anything but wholemeal flour. Brown bread was thought to be more filling than white, so people would need less of it, so the price wouldn’t be such a problem, so they would stop rioting.

The Stale Bread Act of 1801 made it illegal to sell any loaf until at least 24 hours after it was baked. The government believed that stale bread was more nutritious than fresh, so people would need less of it, so the price wouldn’t be such a problem, so they would stop rioting.

In both cases, the new laws prompted such a lot of rioting that they had to be hastily repealed. “We are the sovereignty” isn’t a slogan so much as a statement of fact.

You can sign up for Mat Coward’s Rebel Britannia Substack at www.rebelbrit.substack.com for more strange strikes, peculiar protests, bizarre boycotts, unusual uprisings and different demos.