Defoe's Civets

 From a book I'm reading for review (of which more in due course, no doubt), I learn of a surprising business venture undertaken by Daniel Defoe, a man full of bright ideas but entirely devoid of commercial nous. Finding himself broke and heavily in debt in 1692, having run through his wife's considerable fortune and lost money on one failed venture after another, he saw a wonderful chance to make big money fast – civet farming. Civets were highly prized for the pungent musk that could be extracted from a gland under the tail and used as a cure-all and, especially, in the making of perfumes. Defoe bought 70 civet 'cats' (they're not actually cats, but are related to mongooses and genets) and, installing them in cages on a farm at Newington Green, looked forward to making big money.  Unfortunately, one of his many creditors got wind of the scheme and had the sheriffs of London seize the civets in lieu of debt. Defoe appealed to his mother-in-law to ransom the money-making beasts by paying his debt, which she duly did – only to discover, when another creditor turned up, that her son-in-law had never actually owned them in the first place. Infuriated, and out of pocket by £400 (a six-figure sum in today's money), she sued everyone involved, including Defoe, who soon abandoned business in favour of something he was much better at – writing. I wonder if, had Defoe's civet farming proved a commercial success, we would never have had Robinson Crusoe...