| By Tom Chalmers A pub,
a road – there can be no doubting Daniel Defoe's place in
Stoke Newington's famous past.
But what do people associate with the great writer? For most, it
would be that desert island book, or maybe that other story of his
which was made into a saucy costume drama a few years ago. Well,
what about Defoe the convict, the bankrupt, the spy, the founder
of journalism, the disreputable hack, the rebel, the informer, the
man who at one point even had his cats taken away from him? Suddenly
even Man Friday starts to appear a little drab.
Born the son of a butcher in 1660, Daniel Foe (he added the 'De'
later to give his name more of an aristocratic ring) was raised
as a dissenter. Unwilling to swear an oath to the Church of England,
Oxford and Cambridge were off limits and he was educated at Morton's
Academy at Newington Green, a school for dissenters run by the legendary
Charles Morton.
Not one for the quiet life, Defoe decided against the ministry
and briefly joined the defeated Monmouth rebellion in 1685 against
James II. It was while hiding in a graveyard that he noticed the
engraved name of one 'Robinson Crusoe'. Forced into semi-exile for
three years, our Daniel still refused to let it lie and took to
writing pamphlets against the King – a particularly dangerous
hobby. However, with a swap of allegiance that became something
of a trademark throughout his career, his support of William led
to a return to favour, and to London.
However, things did not run smoothly for Defoe at home, either.
Although a wife, a healthy dowry, seven children and a number of
businesses paints a picture of domestic bliss, in 1692 he was declared
bankrupt with debts believed to be around £17,000. While I
am not aware whether his cats were ever returned, it is known that
he never really escaped from this financial burden for the remainder
of his life.
While a pamphleteer was considered the lowest form of writer, Defoe
continued to produce work at a prolific rate and followed the success
of True Born Englishman by getting himself straight back into trouble
with The Shortest Way with Dissenters. When it finally dawned on
the Tory government that it was in fact a satirical piece, their
laughter quickly turned to embarrassed fury, and poor Daniel was
promptly fined, imprisoned and sent to the Charing Cross pillory.
Luckily, his pen this time came to his rescue and rather than hurling
rotten fruit, the audience toasted to his health as he read out
A hymn to the Pillory.
His stay in prison was brought to an end by the help of murky Tory
official Robert Harley and, before he could mix a martini, the now-famed
writer was working as a spy. During this time he set-up The Review
(a thrice-weekly newspaper and the first of its kind), was sent
to Scotland undercover, where he successfully built-up support for
its union with England, and needless to say was taken to court by
the Whigs and promptly imprisoned once again. However, when the
Tories fell from power, how did he react? Well, unsurprisingly considering
his reputation, he swiftly swapped allegiances and started working
for the Whigs.
While it's the publication of Robinson Crusoe in 1719 and Moll
Flanders in 1722 that built his reputation as the founder of the
modern novel, it is his previous work that has led many to describe
him as the founder of British journalism. He also wrote on travel
and economics, picked up a few more arrests and hung around on the
scaffold to speak to prisoners for novel research – but there
is only so much that can be included in one article. Defoe died
in 1731 of lethargy but by then, even withstanding his novels, he
had done more than enough to mark his place in local folklore.
Tom Chalmers is Publishing Director of Legend Press, a Stoke
Newington-based book publishing company. For more details visit
www.legendpress.co.uk or email info@legendpress.co.uk
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