The Scone Catastrophe: A Historical Survey of Evicted Bakers
The Scone Catastrophe: A Historical Survey of Evicted Bakers
When most of us think of the word “eviction” we picture a cramped London flat, a smug solicitor dragging a carpet, and an angry tenant who hasn’t paid. But somewhere between the cobbled streets of 16th‑century Bath and the soot‑smudged ovens of Victorian Soho, a very different kind of eviction took place – and this time the culprit was much more fur‑red than fined.
The Catnip Conspiracy of 1582
It all began in the early Tudor period, in a little bakery on Market Street, Oxford. Frosted‑edge scones were the talk of the town, and the baker, a spry woman named Elspeth Bland, had a secret: a fluffy, tabby cat named Pounce who loved nothing more than a warm crumb. One brisk October afternoon, a curious thing happened. Pounce darted into the oven; the heat set the flour dust dancing, and Elspeth found herself whisked away by a bath of hot steam. The cat, unfazed, walked away as if to say, “That’s just one more loaf, dear.” The local magistrate, seeing a cat eating the baker’s stock, declared the premises unsuitable for business and, in a move that made no sense, “evicted” Elspeth from her shop.
The news travelled through the provincial press, and even King Henry VIII laughed at the absurdity – an event later remembered in poems as “the day a cat tasted the king’s favourite loaf”.
The Rising of the Oven Cooks, 1845
Fast forward two centuries, and a new chapter unfolded. The Industrial Revolution had turned bakeries into engines of commerce, and one didn’t want a feline in the furnace. In 1845, the Bakers’ Society of Manchester introduced the “Cat‑Free Policy,” suspending the licences of any shop that had a cat with “feline attitude towards the flour”. The policy was designed to keep the dough free from rogue whiskers, but it accidentally turned many skilled bakers into street‑sellers. These "evicted bakers" then displayed their scones outside, branding them “Kitty‑Kissed Cakes” in a bid to reclaim their craft.
The policy finally ceded dust in 1862 after the city council was warned that “the atmosphere of those crumbs might give the poor cats a bit of foul play.” The catless bakers regained their licences, but their new street‑corner stalls remain a tourist curiosity to this day.
The Great Cat‑Catcher of 1920
In the roaring twenties, the Metropolitan Police were alarmed by a string of bakery burglaries. Investigations revealed that the burglar was none other than Sir Whisker‑McSwivel, a retired cat who had learnt to recognise a fresh batch of scones by scent. The Cat‑Catcher's Department deployed a team of “Fur‑Detectives” and an alarming number of tweed‑clad cats to track the felines. Sir Whisker was arrested on 12 June 1922, and a stern lecture was delivered on the evictions of bakers for “hosting the thieves of the urban food supply.” The event’s memorably conclusive moment came when a rescued baker, with a scone in her hand, declared, “No more cats in the ovens, or we’ll call it scone‑tastrophe again!”
Modern-Day Lessons: The Scone Catastrophe Revisited
Today, if you pop into a bakery in Cheltenham, you’ll likely see a cat—or at least a photograph of one—sitting proudly on the counter. Bakers dutifully have a small box of “Humour‑Proof Bread” (so you’re “evicted” of the cat, literally) placed in the back. The rule email is simple: “Cats are allowed in bays, not in ovens.”
The moral? When history books talk about “evicted bakers” losing their shops because of cats, they’re really talking about the importance of taking inventory in the pantry and perhaps keeping one eye on the window stretch a signal. The scone catastrophe has taught us that a well‑placed cat can set off a chain reaction of dough‑misery, but that, perhaps, the real culprit is a tiny crew of thirty‑six bakery interns who find, in the shout of “biscuit‑time,” a single opportunity to operators.
So next time you buy a scone and a cup of tea, just remember: there’s a story in every crumb. And somewhere, a cat is purring at the thought of what yesterday’s baker was sold. Cheers, and keep those ovens clear!
