Susannah Helman: Playwright and poet William Shakespeare changed the English language. He's a household name worldwide 400 years on. But he is also an enigma. Few manuscripts survive in his hand and his life is the subject of much speculation. Tonight we're going to focus on London in the mid 1790s when a young man and his father declared that they had found manuscripts in Shakespeare's hand, including a play called "Vortigern." These became known as the Shakespeare papers.  

Good evening, everyone. Welcome to the National Library of Australia, and to this event Fakespeare: The Story of the Vortigern Hoax. My name is Susannah Helman and I'm the Library's Rare Books and Music Curator. As we begin, I'd like to acknowledge Australia's First Nations peoples, the first Australians as the traditional owners and custodians of this land, and give my respects to their Elders past and present, and through them to all Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people.  

We're thrilled to have you here for this very special event presented in partnership with the Australian National University's Centre for Early Modern Studies and Bell Shakespeare. With us is Dr Kate Flaherty. Kate is a senior lecturer in English and Drama at ANU. Her current book project investigates how female performers have shaped political modernity. Her first book, "Ours As We Play It: Australia Plays Shakespeare” 2011 looks at Shakespeare in performance in Australia. Among her many publications are articles for the conversation and the Guardian. Kate was 2019 winner of the ANU Vice Chancellor's Award for Excellence in Education and as a Senior Fellow of the Higher Education Academy.  

Joining Kate to interpret these works dramatically are two wonderful performers. Jo Turner is an actor, stage and screen director, writer, teacher, communications coach, and facilitator. A graduate of Melbourne University and the Ecole Jacques Lecoq, he has worked nationally and internationally in the performing arts industry for 30 years. Credits include for Bell Shakespeare director, "Macbeth Undone," actor, "The Merchant of Venice," "Antony and Cleopatra," "Twelfth Night," replacement.  

Emily Edwards is a graduate of NIDA in Acting and is the Resident Artist in Education at Bell Shakespeare. Some of her stage credits include a National Tour with the Players for Bell Shakespeare, Feste in "Twelfth Night," directed by Tom Wright, the young wife in "Hello Again," Abigail in "The Crucible," and Fiona Carter in "The Removalists" for the Sydney Theatre Company. In addition to performing, Emily has been a teaching artist for over 10 years having worked with Bell Shakespeare, the Australian Shakespeare Company, TheatreiNQ, Poetry in Action, and running an independent singing studio. Please join me in welcoming Kate, Jo, and Emily. Over to Kate.

Kate Flaherty: Thanks, Susannah. It's been absolute delight working with Susannah for the second year running, and I think I've learned in the process of chasing down this hoax that it is a little bit like a procedural drama. When you're chasing down a hoax, you need to do methodical examination of evidence, but you also need to work with hunches. So I think together, Susannah and I have brought both kinds of thinking. I won't claim that one of us is one or the other. I think we know though.  

So, last year we were thinking about a young boy whose name was William, growing up in Stratford-upon-Avon. He was an ambitious young man and he climbed to fame from an artisanal background, his father was a glove maker. This year we're looking at another William, who was likewise ambitious but, perhaps not quite as talented. This is William Henry Ireland. William Henry Ireland claimed to have access to a trunk of old manuscripts. His father, who was keen antiquarian, asked him to bring some home. Henry William brought them home and said, "This looks like a signature of Shakespeare." His father believed him and said, "Is there any more, William Henry?" William Henry continued to produce these manuscripts. He found deeds, he found business correspondence mentioning Shakespeare and his known collaborators. He found a profession of Protestant faith from Shakespeare. He found a letter to his wife, Anne Hathaway, and all sorts of things which we're gonna pull out of the chest for you this evening.  

Samuel Ireland was very excited and he rushed these things to publication. In 1795 in December, these items were published so that everybody could enjoy this wonderful discovery of Shakespeare documents, although he held one back and that was the full play that William Henry had discovered called "Vortigern" because that was in tense negotiations with both Covent Garden and Drury Lane, the two patent theatres of the time. It was scheduled for performance on the 2nd of April, 1796.  

And things started to go wrong in the beginning part of that year. Unfortunately, the lead actress and star of the show, Sarah Siddons pulled out. She was sick, apparently. John Philip Kemble, however, went forward. He was a strong critic of the play, but if he was gonna do anything, he was gonna use the stage to perform his criticism. Unfortunately, on the 1st of April, so the day before, a great mental muscle of Shakespeare studies, Edmond Malone published a 400-word document taking down the entire Shakespeare papers. So the day before the opening night. You'd say this didn't really bode well. Samuel Ireland was a little bit concerned. He had a box in the theatre on the night, but he distributed hand bills telling people to pay no attention to the illiberal and unfounded assertions made by Mr Malone. And he pleaded with his audience that the audience, that the play may be heard with that candour that has ever distinguished a British audience. If you know anything about the kind of theatre culture in this moment, you'll know that candour could be quite cruel.  

Anyway, Samuel Ireland, the father, had decided that a good prologue would be key to disposing the audience favourably towards this wonderful play. He hired the Poet Laureate no less Henry James Pye to write it. And here we have a sample from Pye's prologue.

Emily Edwards: The cause with learned investigation fraught behold at length to this tribunal brought. No fraud your penetrating eyes can cheat. None here can Shakespeare's writing counterfeit. If in our scenes your eyes delighted find marks that denote the mighty master's mind. If at his words the tears of pity flow, your breasts with horror thrill with rapture glow. If in your harrowed souls impressed you feel the stamp of nature's uncontested seal, demand no other proof nor idly poor or a mouldy manuscripts of ancient law to see if every line display the genuine ink of famed Eliza's day, nor strive with curious industry to know how poets spelt two centuries ago.

Kate Flaherty: Nothing to see here, nothing to think too hard about. Just go with your feelings is what this prologue seemed to say. And those little notes of don't worry about how people spelt back then or worry about looking at antique documents, that of course, is what Edmond Malone had done. So it's a blow to Edmond Malone perhaps, but it's also crediting him in a sense. However, this prologue was not good enough for Samuel Ireland. He thought it left too much up to the judgement of the audience and so he scrapped it and had another one written. So here by James Bland Burges, we have the prologue that was actually performed when the curtains went up on that fateful night, the 2nd of April, 1796.

Jo Turner: From deep oblivion snatched, this play appears. It claims respect since Shakespeare's name it bears, that name the source of wonder and delight to a fair hearing has at least a right. We ask no more, with you the judgement lies, no forgeries escape your piercing eyes. Unbiased then pronounce your dread decree alike from prejudice and favour free. If the fierce ordeal past, you chance to find rich sterling ore, though rude and unrefined, stamp it your own. Assert your poet's fame and add fresh wreaths to Shakespeare's honoured name.

Kate Flaherty: So it seems to be inviting the audience to judge, but it's also saying this is how you need to judge. You need to see this as Shakespeare's work. Now I can tell from your laughter that you feel a little as I do, a little bit cocky. In retrospect, we think, huh? How could anyone have absolutely fallen for these nonsense imposters of the age? So, before we go any further, you're going to do a little experiment with us. This is called the Shakespeare or not quiz. And you are going to be the judges of whether we are hearing Shakespeare or not, and our actors have done a wonderful job of committing to the things that are not Shakespeare. So, if it's Shakespeare, what will you do? Clap, cheer. Yes, I know you're much more polite than an 18th century audience. So here we go. What are you gonna do if it's not Shakespeare?

Audience: [boos]

Kate Flaherty: Oh, that's not bad.

Jo Turner: He's behind you.

Kate Flaherty: Yeah.

Jo Turner: Full on pantomime straight away. I love that.

Kate Flaherty: I think it's very, very rehearsed, I'm sure. Okay.

Jo Turner: You can throw rotten vegetables.

Kate Flaherty: Well, you can throw them at Jo.

Jo Turner: Sure.

Kate Flaherty: I'm a little attached to my jacket.

Jo Turner: I have little pride left at the moment.

Kate Flaherty: Yes, if you happen to have them lying around. Okay, you ready actors? Up you get. I'm going to tell you what this fragment is. The actors are going to perform it and you're gonna either applaud or boo as you see fit. Is it Shakespeare or not Shakespeare? The first fragment. A character sees his beloved.

Jo Turner: But, soft. What light through yonder window breaks. It is the east and Juliet is the sun.  

Audience: [applauds]

Jo Turner: Well, it's Shakespeare.

Kate Flaherty: We gave you an easy one to start with. Okay, next. A character welcomes the morning.

Emily Edwards: The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light.

Audience: [half applauds while half boos]

Jo Turner: Interesting.

Emily Edwards: Half and half.

Kate Flaherty: That's actually from "Romeo and Juliet." Wow.

Emily Edwards: It's not so easy.

Kate Flaherty: So you've got one point. And you've lost one point. You're at about zero. Okay, so now we move to the other end of the day. Night is coming on, a boy and a girl run away together.

Emily Edwards: O tarry not, for we must hence away. What hour ist?

Jo Turner: Near five of the clock. Yon brilliant mass o'fire the golden sun, hath just saluted with a blushing kiss, that partner of his bed the vasty sea.

Audience: [boos]

Jo Turner: Yeah, I agree. I'd say boo.

Emily Edwards: Yeah, that's pretty obvious.  

Jo Turner: The vasty sea.

Kate Flaherty: Part of the challenge is me not laughing and us not laughing. Okay, that's a point to you. That is not Shakespeare. That is indeed Vortigern. Okay, here we have a scene where supporters urge their candidate to accept the throne.

Emily Edwards: Then, good my lord, take to your royal self this proffer'd benefit of dignity; if not to bless us and the land withal, yet to draw forth your noble ancestry from the corruption of abusing times, unto a lineal true-derived course.

Kate Flaherty: Do, good my Lord, your citizens entreat you.

Emily Edwards: Refuse not, mighty Lord, this proffer'd love.

Kate Flaherty: O, make them joyful, grant them their suit.

Jo Turner: Alas, why would you heap this care on me? I am unfit for state and majesty; I do beseech you, take it not amiss; I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

Audience: [applauds]

Kate Flaherty: Okay. I think you're doing well enough. I'm gonna ask you now what play. What play?

Audience member: One of the kings.

Emily Edwards: One of the kings.

Jo Turner: One of the kings.

Emily Edwards: A few of those.

Kate Flaherty: One of the kings.

Jo Turner: Okay, was he a nice king or a nasty king?

Kate Flaherty: You're not allowed. My family's not allowed. Which King?

Audience member: King Louis.

Kate Flaherty: No.

Audience member: Richard.

Kate Flaherty: Richard, Richard III

Emily Edwards: Richard III. Richard III. Well done.

Kate Flaherty: Okay, now we're getting serious. We have a character contemplating violence they are about to commit.

Emily Edwards: Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pitch and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.

Audience: [applauds]

Kate Flaherty: What play? What play?  

Audience member: Hamlet.

Kate Flaherty: Hamlet, Hamlet.

Emily Edwards: MacHamlet.

Kate Flaherty: Thank you. Not "Macbeth." Okay, now for a change of tone, we have a character contemplating violence they're about to commit.

Jo Turner: Fortune, I thank thee! Now is the cup of my ambition full! And by this rising tempest in my blood I feel the fast approach of greatness which e'en like a peasant stoops for my acceptance. But hold. O conscience, how is it with thee? Why dost thou pinch me thus, for should I heed thee, then must my work crumble and fall to nought; come then thou soft, thou double faced deceit. Come dearest flattery. Come direst murder. Attend me quick, and prompt me to the deed.

Audience: [applauds]

Kate Flaherty: You're clapping for William Henry Ireland.

Audience Member: Wow.

Kate Flaherty: Don't forget, William Henry Ireland had one advantage that William Shakespeare didn't have. He had William Shakespeare. Okay, now we have a character contemplating violence they're about to commit.

Emily Edwards: To me, the king hath ever been most kind; yay, even lavish of his princely favours, and I this his love I do requite with murder. And wherefore this? What! For a diadem, the which I purchase at no less cost than even the perdition of my soul; still at that self same price I will obtain it.

Audience: [quietly applauds]

Kate Flaherty: There's just, I love this feeling, this dissent in the ranks. You need to express yourself strongly. One way or the other. Go.  

Audience: [boos]

Oh, okay. The boos have it. That is again William Henry Ireland. Okay, now we for for a genuine change, a grieving mother.

Jo Turner: You hold.

Emily Edwards: Talks to me that never had a son.

Jo Turner: "You are as fond of grief as of your child.

Emily Edwards: Grief fills the room up of my absent child. Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, remembers me of all his gracious parts, stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. Then, have I reason to be fond of grief? Fare you well, had you such a loss as I, I could give better comforts than you do.

Audience: [applauds]

Kate Flaherty: Yes. Yes. Good job but which play? Oh, does anyone know? "King John." This is Queen Constance. But the idea is that you now want to see "King John," you want to read "King John." Excellent. Mission accomplished. We'll go to number 10 actors. A character. Is that okay? A character chatting with a fool who plays a small drum called a table.

Emily Edwards: Save thee, friend, and my music. Dost thou live by thy tabor?

Jo Turner: No, sir, I live by the church.

Emily Edwards: Art thou a churchman?

Jo Turner: No such matter, sir. I do live by the church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

Audience: [applause]  

Kate Flaherty: Okay, must have that lift of Shakespeare's comedy. And we now have an abandoned woman.

Emily Edwards: My brain grows hot, I can no longer bear it. Forbid his presence too! O! I am distracted and sleep will quiet me. I'll to the poppy and with its juices drenched these feverous lips!

Jo Turner: It's so harsh, isn't it? You are booing the playwrights, right? Not the actor.

Kate Flaherty: The poppy, Shakespeare uses the word poppy only once in his whole, in his whole cannon of works. Whereas poppy and opium in the late 18th century would've been very much on the mind. Okay, the last one. We now have the fool's epilogue.

Jo Turner: Chance you will ask if this be tragedy, We kill indeed, yet still 'tis comedy. For none save bad do fall, which draws no tear, nor lets compassion sway your tender ear. Play! We'll grant it. The story ye have read, for 'tis well chronicled in Hollinshed.

Audience: [half applauds while half boos]

Kate Flaherty: There's a bit of confusion-

Jo Turner: 50/50.

Kate Flaherty: In the ranks, I think. Did Shakespeare draw on Hollinshed? That's the confusing thing, yes he did. But did he ever rhyme Hollinshed in such a lame way? No. This is not Shakespeare.  

So, one of the delightful things about a hoax as I see it, is that it opens up a cross-section on society that reveals its inner workings. It reveals what people want to believe is the case. And a hoax that actually has a big night at the theatre is to me even better because it concentrates that effect in one time and one place. We can reconstruct this night at the theatre though because we have many published books that surrounded this hoax. It kind of happens in two parts. We have the books that were published before that night at the theatre and then we have the books that were published afterwards.  

When I first suggested that we look at "Vortigern" when we did the Shakespeare public lecture last year, I only knew that the Library held an 1832 copy of "Vortigern." Very, very irresponsible of me. But Susannah has brought forth all of the books associated with this extraordinary controversy, as if from a treasure chest in fact, as if from a mystical chest.

So tonight we're going to work together, Emily and Jo and I, to share what we've discovered about the inner play of "Vortigern," but also to look at the drama of publications of books and controversy that surround it. So to introduce us to the first set of books, we're gonna take a break and invite Susannah back.

Susannah Helman: Thank you very much, Kate. As part of my Shakespeare mania last year for various pieces of work, I came across this portrait of Shakespeare. It's bound into one of the major books we're going to explore this evening. We used it for the advertising for tonight's event, reminiscent of the Droeshout portrait of William Shakespeare, from the frontispiece to the "First Folio" of 1623. The one on the right is actually a later edition that we hold in the collection. Well, the portrait anyway. It is intriguing. What is it? As Kate said, the more we looked, the more we realised the Library has relating to this story we're telling tonight.  

First, some background to the Library, its history and rare books collections. The Library is the oldest national collecting institution in Australia. It has its origins in the Commonwealth Parliamentary Library of 1901, which served the federal parliament and the nation, first in Melbourne and then in Canberra from 1927. The National Library Act in 1960 formalised the separation of the National Library and Parliamentary Library. From August 1968, the Library has been in its current purpose-built building. This is a photo from 20 years ago. The National Library of Australia is Australia's largest library with physical collections of 273 shelf kilometres and digital collections of 2.96 petabytes. The rare books collections run to about 80,000 overseas rare books and 60,000 Australian rare books. We also have rare books in our pictures, manuscripts, and maps collections.  

When it comes to William Shakespeare, playwright and poet, the Library’s collections are at their best on how his plays have been performed in Australia from the late 18th century to the present. And here he is again. Playbills, programs, posters, costume designs, photographs, and manuscripts. The Library's rare books collections are at their best post-Shakespeare. Shakespeare improved in the late 17th century, here is "The Tempest" as enhanced by restoration playwrights John Dryden and William Davenant and Shakespeare edited in the 18th century. Here are just some of them. These holdings do not frequently take centre stage. In this paper, I want to lay out some highlights in all their PowerPoint glory. Here's is the first of two salon hangs. 18th century Britain was a great age for Shakespeare editions and we have pretty much all of them here at the Library. They are multi-volume works and what I've got here on the screen are the title pages of each of their first volumes. We do have some of them in multiple copies.  

Many of our Shakespeare editions, the early ones, and at least half of the books we're talking about tonight are from the David Nichol Smith collection. Nichol Smith was a Scottish-born scholar who spent most of his life and career in Oxford, ending his career as Merton Professor of English. In 1950 to '51, he was professor of English at Adelaide University. His collection of just over 10,000 books, pamphlets, and periodicals was purchased by the Library in 1962 from his widow. About half of his books state before 1820, the greatest number being English literature. It's in this collection that we have early, if not first editions of Shakespeare's friends Ben Jonson, John Dryden, Jonathan Swift, Dr. Johnson, Samuel Johnson, William Wordsworth, and Lord Byron Nichol Smith was particularly interested in many of the figures we're talking about tonight, particularly Shakespeare and Edmond Malone.  

Up on the screen are some of the key dates in our story. We're looking at a span of about 40 years with a focus on the mid 1790s. Tonight, I'm speaking about what we have at the Library, some of the major printed works, what they are, what they do, and anything interesting about our copies. In some cases we have multiple copies of the same title, which provides an interesting contrast. In preparing for tonight, I've found we have a counterfeit edition, very appropriate. We'll come to this slide later.  

To the first book, Samuel Ireland was the father of William Henry Ireland and he appears to have been a complicated and ambitious man. Born in 1744, he was first a spittle fields silk weaver, then merchant with a sideline career as a draughtsman and engraver. He was an honorary member of the Royal Academy of Arts from 1768 and exhibited at the academy. He etched the work of William Hogarth and others. His housekeeper, also known as Mrs Freeman, was really his lover and thought to be the mother of his three children, including the great forger himself. She, Anna Maria de Burgh Coppinger, had previously been the mistress of the Earl of Sandwich, the first lord of the admiralty at the time of James Cook's three Pacific voyages. The Library has a strong collection of his manuscripts.  

In 1790, Samuel Ireland's first travel book appeared, a picturesque tour through Holland, Brabant, and part of France. The book we're looking at tonight was the second in the series, the result of a tour to Warwickshire, including Stratford, the birthplace of Shakespeare. He says the tour took place in the summers of 1792 and 1793. We know that he travelled with his son, William Henry. Samuel was both a collector of books and his historical curiosities. The sale of his collection by Leigh, Sotheby, and Son in 1801 makes amazing reading. His collection included a crimson purse given by Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn. White leather gloves embroidered with gold and coloured silks given to Elizabeth I by Mary Queen of Scots. This book is quite beautiful. It's a splendid production. Most of its engravings as plates or within the text are actually by Samuel himself, though the frontispiece is by Edward Francis Burney, the cousin of the novelist, Fanny Burney, who you can buy in all good bookshops. You can see Shakespeare himself playing the lyre on the right leaving no doubt about how central Shakespeare is to this book. Two issues were produced, one the large paper issue and the smaller one, which is what we have.  

According to his son, Samuel had long loved the works of Shakespeare and used to read passages aloud. In this book, Samuel writes about Shakespeare with enormous reverence. It's clear that Samuel Ireland is focused on the discovery of new information.  

“If in the pages of this volume, he may be thought in the smallest degree to have elucidated any circumstance of Shakespeare's life or any passage in the noble effusions of his more than human mind, his utmost pride and wish is fully gratified.” It goes on but I won't continue.  

Shortly after this he announces the discovery of the manuscripts that we're talking about. “It is enough to add that he has the means and it is his intention so soon as opportunity shall serve to lay before the public a variety of authentic and important documents, respecting the private and public life of this wonderful man. One of the most affecting and admired tragedies written with his own hand and differing in various particulars of much curiosity and interest from any edition of that work now extant and at a future day to present a picture of that mind, which no one has yet ever presumed to copy an entire drama, yet unknown to the world in his own handwriting. This general information on a subject that it is presumed, cannot but prove acceptable to every reader of taste and refinement, the author feels it is a duty here to disclose as it is nearly collected with the intention of the present undertaking a history of that river, the Avon, on whose banks nature has in a happy and propitious hour teamed forth her proudest work.” He's talking about Shakespeare.  

We have Shakespeare's birthplace, Shakespeare's house on the left. Shakespeare's chair. Shakespeare's kitchen on which he wrote. "The kitchen of this house has an appearance sufficiently interesting to command a place in this work abstracted from its claim to notice as a relative to the bard." The church where he's buried and Anne Hathaway's house.  

Manuscripts began to appear more and more. They were displayed. In answer to his announcement of the discoveries in this book by William Henry Ireland, who you see on the screen, there was this. It came out in December 1795. The miscellaneous papers edited by Samuel Ireland, it transcribes the papers that had appeared at that time, including an early version of "King Lear" and a fragment of "Hamlet." The play "Vortigern" was a notable exception. It was not published until 1799.  

The National Library holds two copies of this book. The English short title catalogue, the most authoritative international catalogue of books of this period names three variants. Basically both of ours are the budget versions with only one illustration. The other two had plates. One was a folio edition. That means that it was quite large. Of our copies, one is in a modern binding and the other in an early 19th century binding, but they are still very rare. A large proportion of them were actually burnt after the Edmond Malone's book came out.  

The only engraving in both our copies was actually just the Shakespeare portrait you know. So what exactly is it? It's an etching by Samuel Ireland, the great engraver, after a pen and ink drawing that William Henry discovered. William Henry was not as accomplished as his father at drawing and when his father baulked to the drawing, William Henry produced a letter, which seemed to give it context. It was actually a letter from William Shakespeare reading, "Worthy friend, having always accounted thee a pleasant and witty person and whose company I do much esteem, I have sent the enclosed a whimsical conceit," talking about this. "Which I do suppose thou will easily discover, but shouldst thou not, why then shall I shall set thee on mine table of loggerheads. Your true friend, William Shakespeare." So, this apparently satisfied Samuel. This is its reverse.  

The book was sensational news, but it was not long before it was torn apart. As Kate will speak about, Edmond Malone methodically critiqued the manuscripts. He was well placed to do that. Shakespeare was a great passion. His edition of Shakespeare's works had come out in 1790. He was a collector himself and had access to many of the great collections, which he used to take down this matter.  

We have two copies of Malone's inquiry, which was produced in two variants. Both of ours are actually the same variant. The book was an extraordinary piece of scholarship completed at a feverish pace. We know that he started work on around the 10th of January 1796, so the other book had only just, the one we just saw before had only just come out in December. By the end of that month it had started to go to print and by the 31st of March, printing was complete.  

I'm gonna focus on one of our copies. It's in its original publisher's binding. It's a cheap binding. What makes it more interesting is that it was a library book at one point. On the cover you can see the remnants of book club. On the front end paper, there is a notice about the penalty for late return. Nothing like a threat in a library book. The forefoot for not returning this book is one shilling and six pence, and that to be doubled every month until the book is reproduced or the original price of it is made up. The book includes three plates, which reproduce the Shakespeare, some of the Shakespeare papers and compare and contrast them with known examples of the handwriting of the so-called authors.  

So here. Here you have two of the three. So, what he's done is that he's basically got reproductions of the Shakespeare papers and then he's compared them with things either from his or other or from other collections like collections that are now in the British Library. Say the Harleian papers and he provides a very wonderful comparison. Over to Kate.

Kate Flaherty: That was a letter from Queen Elizabeth. Yeah, supposedly. So, in the books that Susannah has introduced, we have what I'm gonna call a setup for the play. The play around the play, if you like. Before William Henry forged a whole play, he laid this trail of evidence that would answer questions or which he hoped would answer questions that would come later. But one of the things that puzzled William Henry according to his own account and continues to puzzle us today is how did he get so far? How did he get away with it for so long?  

To answer this question, we have to reflect on the context in which he lived. In any age, humans have a strong tendency to believe what they need to be true in order to uphold their preferred view of reality. William Henry Ireland created a version of Shakespeare that ticked a lot of boxes about what people wanted to believe about Shakespeare in his era. But let's turn the light on us. Imagine if we unearthed documents today that suggested that Galileo had grave cerns about the effects of fossil fuel use. We'd want them to be true.  

The first person William Henry needed to convince was his father. This was not difficult. As you can see from his book, "Picturesque Views of Stratford," he had invested in this ideal rural village hometown for his hero Shakespeare. Now, Stratford had only really landed on the map as a tourist destination in 1769 when the great actor and prior manager of Drury Lane had organised the Shakespeare Stratford Jubilee. This was a grand three-day festival. It had an opening of the town hall, a masked ball, fireworks, especially written ode, a pageant. Most of it was washed out by rain. James Boswell of whom we'll hear a little more later commented on his experience of the Stratford Shakespeare Jubilee.

Jo Turner: After the joy of the Jubilee came the uneasy reflection that I was in a little village in wet weather and knew not how to get away.

Kate Flaherty: If you've done a touring holiday of England, you may sympathise. Still, the romance lingered for the diehard Shakespeare fan, Samuel Ireland. As William Henry Ireland recounted in his confession, Samuel was dead set on finding some traces of his idol.

Emily Edwards: We visited Clopton house about a mile from Stratford, and the gentleman who occupied it behaved to us with much civility. On my father saying he wished to know anything relating to our bard, the gentleman replied that had he been there a few weeks sooner, he could have given him a great quantity of his and his family's letters. My father, much astonished, begged to know what had become of them. The gentleman's answer was that having some young partridges, which he wished to bring up, he had, for the purpose, cleared out a small apartment where in these papers lay and burnt a large basket full of them. He said they were all rotten as tinder, but to many of them he could plainly perceive the signature of William Shakespeare.

Kate Flaherty: The Stratfordians surely saw Samuel coming. He may come across as a lovable duffer here, but in his son's account, he played his part in the active and belligerent promotion of the Shakespeare papers. We see this in his publication in 1795 December of the papers, unsurprisingly at four guineas. Now I've looked this up, this is equivalent purchasing power of 600 pounds today. It didn't sell very well. But Samuel began to monetize the whole program in diverse ways straight away. From the supposed lock of Shakespeare's hair attached to the poem to Anne Hathaway, he took individual hairs and turned them into rings, which he then sold. He also set up a kind of Shakespeare exhibition at his house in Norfolk Street, and he invited people to come at the equivalent of about 300 pounds today per visit. If Samuel was in fact deceived, it was his own greed that made him vulnerable.  

William Henry's immediate home environment was obviously very conducive to his pranks then, but the wider society was also, and it was perfectly ready to be taken in. In the 18th century, Shakespeare began to edge ahead of his peers, singled out as the supposed greatness of being Britain's national poet. Shakespearean tragedy was pretty much, I think that's not the slide that I'm looking for. Where are they? Our actors. Actors wanted to play Shakespeare and Shakespearean tragedy was pretty much the only tragedy you could see on the stages of Covent Garden and Drury Lane. Here we have some characters who you'll be hearing about more later. We have John Philip Kemble. We have Sarah Siddons, his sister, perhaps a little more talented, perhaps a little less dominant. And we also have the wonderful Dorothy Jordan, who was the star of comedic acting in her era as Sarah Siddons was a star of tragedy and made her name playing Lady Macbeth.  

So, as Susannah has pointed out, there were also many Shakespeare editions published in this era. Two wonderful slides full. Notable of course, is Edmond Malone's edition because he'll be popping up again.  

So with all this passion for the literary past came an enthusiasm for old manuscripts, an appetite for literary antiquities, then fostered forgery. William Henry Ireland was not the first faker of his era. Previous to him there was James Macpherson's 1960s, sorry, 1760s publication of the poems of the ancient Scottish Bard Ossian. They caused controversy for decades. There was also the young poet Thomas Chatterton, who had taken in many with his discovery of the poems of a mediaeval poet called Rowley in the 1760s as well. In both cases though, the forgers were characterised by exquisite skill, refined through practise, and with deep obsession for the lost worlds that they sought to recreate. Poor Chatterton died of a laudanum overdose and he was turned into a kind of hero by the next, by the poets of the following century, like Wordsworth. But William Henry having read a novel about Chatterton, was also a bit of a fan. He had this to say about William, about Chatterton in his confessions.

Emily Edwards: The fate of Chatterton so strongly interested me that I used frequently to envy his fate and desire nothing so ardently as the termination of my existence in a similar cause.

Kate Flaherty: So, he's aspiring to a strange kind of career future, might suggest. We wouldn't take his word on anything, but we can assume that he's saying something quite truthful here. So, to recapitulate a snapshot of the context reveals that 1790s provided many necessary ingredients for William Henry's success. He has a credulous bardolator for a father, an age in which Shakespeare's share value is rising and a culture in which great men of letters are hungry for authentic literary relics. This combines with William Henry's own strange inner drive to deceive whether to please his father, to annoy his father, it's hard to say.  

The 18th century was the era that saw Shakespeare lifted high above his contemporaries as the national poet. But what was known about Shakespeare's life revealed some rough edges. The idea of Shakespeare was becoming sacred, but his plays weren't. They were adapted and twisted and changed to suit the mood of the moment. This meant cutting out a lot of the bawdy jokes and wrapping up the tragedies with comedy. "Vortigern" has no bawdy jokes and it's a tragedy that ends with a comedy, just saying.  

One of the most interesting things the Shakespeare papers shows is how William Henry frames his intentions to reproduce popular beliefs about Shakespeare and tidy up the things that his era didn't like. And here's two lovely examples, his profession of faith, that is Shakespeare's supposedly profession of faith, and his love letter to Anne Hathaway.  

So, let's begin with the issue of Shakespeare's faith. Let's turn to the play first. Another play for your attention is called "Henry VIII, All is True." It's co-written with John Fletcher. You need to ask for it to be produced. In this co-written play, Shakespeare portrays Catherine of Aragon as loyal, articulate, and intelligent. Where Henry in his break from the Church of Rome is childish, rash, cowardly, and self-serving. Anxiety about Shakespeare's possible Catholic sympathies was heightened in this period by a discovery of his spiritual testament found between the rafters and the tiles of the home that belonged to the Shakespeares in Stratford. Ask me questions about that later if you want, but it did cause some anxiety. It seemed to suggest that Shakespeare's father, John, had lived an outwardly Protestant life but remained Catholic in his private convictions. This was a source of great anxiety and William Henry played right into it.

Emily Edwards: Having seen Shakespeare's father's profession of faith, I thought I would attempt to form one for the son. And as I heard him much censured for the invocation to the saints and the superstitious manner in which it was composed, I resolved on writing the sons perfectly simple, wishing thereby to prove Shakespeare a Protestant, that often having been a matter of doubt.

Kate Flaherty: William Henry's version was not perfectly simple by any means. He did seek to differentiate the father from the son in terms of faith. He spent 40 lines avoiding any reference to purgatory or saints, shedding lots of tears and creating this very bizarre image. Are you ready? It's a prayer. "O, cherish us like the sweet chicken that under the covet of her spreading wing receives her little brood and hovering all them, keeps them harmless and in safety." You might know the source of that image. In his inquiry, Edmond Malone criticises the absurd orthography, that is spelling, of this mystical rhapsody, and he points out that the image is somewhat distorted from its appearance in the Bible or holy writ.

Jo Turner: This passage has evidently been formed on holy writ, where the kindness and pity of our merciful creator are represented under the familiar image of a hen protecting her little brood under her wings. Whence the absurd introduction of a chicken, which is hereby courtesy to pass for the mother bird to perform this parental office.

Kate Flaherty: Edmond Malone is enjoying himself too much. I hope you're enjoying yourself too, Jo. Another highlight of the Shakespeare papers is Shakespeare's supposed letter and love poem to Anne Hathaway. What do we really know about Shakespeare's conduct towards his wife? Well, disappointingly little. We know that in his will he left her his. Great audience. His second best bed. Now this point has been pushed one way or another trying to establish the ground zero of their relationship. Working in London, he would've left her in Stratford for long periods. His sonnets point to erotic entanglements with a male youth and a famous dark lady who no matter what your take is on her identity is not Anne Hathaway. The plays are shaky evidence for biographical speculation, but they are full of articulate, abandoned women like Catherine of Aragon and men who are scorched with regret such as Leontes in "The Winter's Tale." Once again, we have only a fragmentary picture of Shakespeare's personality. William Henry to the rescue. Let's listen to his letter, which was accompanied by a lock of Shakespeare's hair.

Emily Edwards: Dearest Anna, as thou hast always found me true to my word, most true, so thou shalt see, I have strictly kept my promise. I pray you, perfume this my poor lock with thy balmy kisses for then indeed shall kings themselves bow and pay homage to it. I do assure thee no rude hand hath knotted it. Thy Willie’s alone hath done the work. Oh, Anna, do I love and do I cherish thee in my heart, for thou art as tall as a cedar stretching forth thy branches and suckering the smaller plants from the nipping winter.

Kate Flaherty: Thanks, Emily.

Jo Turner: That's horrible.

Emily Edwards: It is horrible.

Kate Flaherty: It gets better. It gets even better. Among the papers is a wonderful poem from William Shakespeare to his beloved Anne Hathaway, a rare glimpse, surely into the heart of this great poet. Are you ready, Emily?

Emily Edwards: I think so. Okay.  

Is there in heaven ought more rare than thou sweet nymph of Avon fare? Is there on earth a man more true than Willie Shakespeare is to you?

Kate Flaherty: We weren't sure here, there are four more stanzas. Do you want them? Jo said you would want them. Okay, can we have up hands for want them. Oh my. Okay. This is your own question and answer time that you are using. So Emily, the spelling is as you'd expect bizarre.

Emily Edwards: Okay.

Kate Flaherty: And you've gotta watch out for those F, S's.

Emily Edwards Oh, it's tricky, tricky F, S's, okay.

Kate Flaherty: It's all over the place too.

Emily Edwards: We'll do one or two more.

Kate Flaherty: Okay.

Emily Edwards: We'll see how hungry you are for this.  

Though fickle fortune prove unkind still doth she here wealth behind. And near the heart can form anew nor make thy Willie's love untrue. Though age with withered hand does strike and form most faye the face doth beg right, still does she leave untouched and true, thy Willie's love and friendship too.

Kate Flaherty: That's enough.

Emily Edwards: I think that's a good place to leave it.

Kate Flaherty: Thank you.

Emily Edwards: Thank you.

Kate Flaherty: It reminds me of the verses that Orlando pins onto trees in “As you like it”, and which Celia makes fun of appropriately. Edmond Malone in his scathing demolition of the Shakespeare paper spends a hundred pages dissecting that supposed letter to Shakespeare from Queen Elizabeth and one page on the poetry that you just heard. We can see how the forged documents were designed to appeal. They solved these great problems. Was Shakespeare true Protestant? Was Shakespeare faithful and loving as a husband? But William Henry also began to forge documents to answer the questions that were coming his way. One that loomed dangerously was why his unknown gentleman friend, the mysterious Mr H, would willingly hand over such a valuable trove of authentic documents. First he said, well, he had put Mr H in his debt by finding a document that ascertained some property to Mr H. Fair enough, would have to be pretty good property.  

But more importantly, William Henry discovered another document that proved he himself had a legitimate right to the Shakespeare papers. Where there is a will, there's a will to be forged. Or at least a deed of gift. It turned out that William Henry, that one of his own ancestors named William Henry had once saved the life of William Shakespeare in a drowning incident. And this is what William Shakespeare wrote after the incident.

Emily Edwards: On or about the third day of last August, having with my good friend, master William Henry Ireland and others, taken boat near onto my house aforesaid, we did purpose going up Thames. But those that were so to conduct us being much too merry through liquor, they did upset our aforesaid barge. All but myself saved themselves by swimming. Master William Henry Ireland, not seeing me, did ask for me, but one of the company did answer that I was drowning. On the which, he pulled off his jerkin and jumped in after me. With much pains, he dragged me forth, I being then nearly dead. And so he did save my life and for the which service I do hereby give him as followeth.

Kate Flaherty: What followeth is five of Shakespeare's extent plays, the enduring copyright to them. And one Shakespeare play that didn't exist yet. "Henry III." So William had plans for writing more Shakespeare plays. He was clearing the way to do so. There's also a complicated, weirdly spelled instructions for how these plays are to be passed down through the Ireland family, to the oldest son with the name William Henry.  

Edmond Malone's excoriation of the deed of gift is fierce. He points out that the word upset, meaning a boat overturned by a wave was modern usage not likely to happen in 1604, nor on the Thames. It is in this section of his inquiry that I got the strongest sense of just how much pleasure this barrister-come-formidable literary scholar had in tearing the Shakespeare papers to shreds. Listen to him here warming up for his attack.

Jo Turner: Having now dispatched all the smaller fry, we come to the great triton of the minnows, Master William Henry Ireland, a most expert swimmer and one whom, if we are to give credit to this deed, our poet wore in his heart of hearts. In plain language, we are presented with a deed of gift from William Shakespeare to his friend and neighbour in the Blackfriars, William Henry Ireland, as a reward for his having saved our poet from being drowned in the Thames.

Kate Flaherty: This is not someone who you would want on the Viva panel for your thesis. Next he moves onto the ludicrous details of this riverside rescue and he criticises Shakespeare's imaginary friend for his slow response time.

Jo Turner: Shakespeare, in similar circumstances, I have no doubt would have plunged in acuted as he was. But his friend warmly as he was attached to our author, though this accident happened close to the shore, which he had just reached by swimming, would not venture again into the water till he had taken off his jerkiner, which we may suppose was made of blue velvet, drawn out with white satin and given him by his friend, his Shakespeare. Out of that splendid wardrobe, an account of which is reserved for a subsequent page. As for the other expert swimmers, they most unfeelingly stood stone-still. One only of them observing that Shakespeare was drowning.

Kate Flaherty: I've never laughed so much as I have in the preparation of this paper. At our practice session I was trying to stop laughing. Okay, he's not finished yet. Next he points out the oddity of there being someone called William Henry in 1604 at all, because it was almost entirely unheard of to bestow two Christian names on one person.

Jo Turner: Even the house of peers during this whole period, nay, the heirs apparent of the crown, Henry and Charles, could boast of no such distinction. It was reserved alone for this worthy habedasher of Blackfriars, the jerkin Nautilus of the Thames, the preserver of Shakespeare's life, the renowned and never to be forgotten, Mr William Henry Ireland. Unbelievable.

Kate Flaherty: Okay, so as I mentioned before, these documents with their cleverly contrived, authentic-looking seals, old ink, worn pages were available on display at the Ireland's home in 8 Norfolk Street, just off the strand. A veritable Shakespeare installation at a price of 300 pounds. We need to remember that Malone's grand demolition though was not published until the day before the premier of "Vortigern." By then the tide or rather the tsunami called Malone was rolling in. But in the 18 months before that, many viewers of the treasures were quite differently disposed. One such was James Boswell, a highly respected biographer of Samuel Johnson. Samuel Ireland writes in his diary that after examining the papers, Boswell fell to his knees and cried out.

Jo Turner: Oh! How happy I am to have lived to the present day of discovery of this glorious treasure. I now shall die in peace.

Kate Flaherty: Thank you, Jo.

Jo Turner: You're so welcome.

Kate Flaherty: William Henry says in his confession that Boswell then kissed the papers and asked for a glass of brandy. We do have to remember that the only account we have of this is provided by Samuel Ireland. But it's a moment of drama that's gone down in history as an emblem for this party who called themselves the believers and who stuck by Samuel Ireland in thick and thin. They actually provided apologies to rebut Malone's inquiry. Another person who visited the installation was journalist James Bowden, an interesting figure. He tells of his first encounter with the Shakespeare papers.

Emily Edwards: I remember that I beheld the papers with the tremor of the purest delight, touched the invaluable relics with reverential respect and deemed existence dearer as it gave me so refined a satisfaction.

Kate Flaherty: However, Bowden did something very remarkable even for our day. He examined the evidence closely. He weighed up both sides of the argument and he changed his mind. After Samuel Ireland had published the papers in December of 1795, Bowden tackled Ireland's explanation of the preface in fierce detail. And we're just gonna go down to Bowden's 20 years later resentment of the hoax that was played on him.

Emily Edwards: Okay.

Kate Flaherty: So like many converts, Bowden's resentment once he was disillusioned, was fierce and lasting. William Henry recounts an interaction with Bowden two decades later in which Bowden exclaimed.

Emily Edwards: You must be aware so of the enormous crime you have committed against the divinity of Shakespeare. Why the act, sir, was nothing short of sacrilege. It was precisely the same thing as taking the holy chalice from the altar and-

Jo Turner: Beep.

Emily Edwards: Therein.

Kate Flaherty: Other forms of formal criticism that was fairly informal, I guess, formal criticism were published in the period between the publication of the papers and the staging of "Vortigern." One letter to the gentleman's magazine expresses amazement the way the orthography, that is the spelling, is bloated throughout by supernumerary letters. How almost every word is indiscriminately clogged with double consonants huddled together. Another sharp observer for the British critic wonders at the volume of the findings.

Emily Edwards: The miraculous box or trunk, which after having produced letters, deeds, drawings, printed books, manuscript plays, and such a farrago of things as never box contained before, still teems with discoveries in a way that overthrows all powers of belief. Would you imagine, reader, that in a year and a half or two years, the contents of one trunk could not be ascertained? Were there 20, they might have been examined in a month, a little month.

Kate Flaherty: So while men of letters debated this argument fairly politely, the popular press launched attacks that drew on exactly the same observations, but in quite a different tone. An excerpt from the 14th of January 1796 in The Telegraph postured as being a newly discovered letter from William Shakespeare to his friend Benjamin Jonson. Let me just find it for you. Jeffrey Kahn also cites an example from the Morning Herald on the 19th of February announcing the discovery of Shakespeare's cookbook! With a recipe for. You can see the fun they're having at the expense of William Henry Ireland's weird spelling.  

It's difficult to gauge what the extent of Edmond Malone's devastating blow was on the trial by audience night of "Vortigern" at the theatre. Remember, his inquiry was published only one day before the premier performance, so not many people could have read it, nor had Malone the chance to examine and critique the play as it had not yet been published. But what he did do was heighten the atmosphere of controversy that surrounded it.  

The significance of Malone's detective work though extends well beyond "Vortigern" and the Ireland case. He used a range of methods that he'd evolved in comprehensive exposure of the Chatterton forgery, and it set him apart from the hunch-led amateurs of his day, made him a forerunner of, well, my job really, of hmm, meticulous modern day bibliographic scholarship. Maybe that's not me exactly. He made systematic comparisons between the forgeries and the real documents he had collected from the period, noting the spelling of particular authors, their phrase, stylistics, and handwriting. So in this, he was a precursor of computational analysis used today to explore so-called author controversies. By reproducing the forgery side by side though with samples of authentic documents, he invited readers to be investigators too. And I'm inviting you now to tell me what's wrong with this picture. So this is a transcription. This is not the Shakespeare hand, obviously it's printed. What doesn't work here?

Audience member: Globe.

Kate Flaherty: Great. Who said that? Yes. 1589, the globe did not exist, which Malone pointed out and many other similar historical inaccuracies. The glean sarcasm of Malone's inquiry had the feeling of someone going after a fly with a nuclear warhead. But it is quite obvious that the exercise of this methodology was important in and of itself. And in this we can see how cases of forgery seem to provide an adrenaline shot to the advance of methods in literary historical research. Over to you, Susannah.

Susannah Helman: Thanks, Kate. Back to the books. Here's our timeline. The first book I'm gonna talk about is "Vortigern," the publication of it. So, the copy that we hold dates from 1832. We don't hold the 1799 edition of the play. But what's interesting about the 1832 is that it's a chance for Ireland to tell his story once again. We'll look at his earlier confessions just in a minute. But what's very interesting about this is that the wording of the title on the cover and the title page are both very interesting. You have a little piece of paper adhered to buff paper. It says "Shakespeare forgeries 'Vortigern.'" Really opening, owning it, I think. With an original preface by W.H. Ireland. Then on the title page you see "Vortigern: an historical play with an original preface by W.H. Ireland.” So it doesn't really say that Ireland wrote "Vortigern" but it's his. Below “represented at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane on Saturday, April 2nd, 1796 as a supposed newly discovered drama of Shakespeare”.  

So, a page in Ireland's hand flips out opposite. This is the beginning of the preface. It's probably too tiny to read. “But no one connected with literature or who feels partiality for reading on hearing the title of "Vortigern" and Rowena mentioned, but has more or less a confused idea respecting this dramatic effort.” It goes on and on and on. It's quite long, but it's great.  

I'm going to move back to the 16th century with Hollinshed who you met earlier. We know that Ireland drew on Hollinshed's "Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland" for the play "Vortigern." One of the major histories of Britain, the first part came out in 1577. Ours is unfortunately missing its title page and has been trimmed and rebound. Shakespeare is known to have used Hollinshed for "King Lear," "Macbeth," and "Cymbeline," and his history plays, though he is thought to have used the expanded 1587 edition. Vortigern, who you see on the bottom left, is a minor character in Hollinshed and his story gets few column inches. He doesn't even get one of these beautiful woodcut portraits. But he's there. What is most interesting about our copy of this book is that a girl or a woman learning to write called Anne Clopton, has inscribed her name within it, likely after numerous attempts.  

Now to move to the first of Ireland's confessions, which came out in 1796. This is an authentic account of the Shakespearean manuscripts. In this slim, unbound 43-page booklet, William Henry Ireland confesses to creating the manuscripts exonerating his father Samuel in the process. It starts, "In justice to the world and to remove the odium under which my father labours by publishing the manuscripts brought forward by me as Shakespeare's, I think it necessary to give a true account of the business, hoping that whatever may occur in the following pages will be met with favour and forgiveness when considered the act of a boy."  

He provides a helpful summary at the end, showing those years in a legal office, where he worked and had access to paper, were not wasted. "First, I solemnly declare that my father was perfectly unacquainted with the whole affair, believing the papers most firmly the productions of Shakespeare. Secondly, that I myself, both the author and writer, and have had no aid or assistance from any sold living, and that I should never have gone so far, but that the world praised the papers so much and thereby flattered my vanity. Thirdly, that any publication which may appear tending to prove the manuscript's genuine or contradicted what is here stated is false. This being the true account." It's hard to know what to believe.  

Now, this booklet has presence. It looks old. It appears to be published by John Debrett. Yes, the Debrett of the Peerage who had in the 1790s had his shop on Piccadilly in London. In the early 1790s, he'd published the first major book on Australian animals, John White's book, and had specimens on display in his window of Australian birds. Ireland said that 500 copies of this booklet were printed. In looking at it more closely, it's clear that this is all the hallmarks of the counterfeit edition of 1804, which Ireland is thought to have printed by J. Barker, who printed "Vortigern" in 1799.  

Ireland, William Henry, complained how hard his 1796 edition was to find. For one, this one has a watermark of 1804 showing that the paper was made that year and there are numerous typographical errors that have been corrected for this edition. In the early 20th century. A Shakespeare enthusiast said that only 50 copies were actually printed of this counterfeit edition. Worldwide catalogues show that this copy is not as common as the 1796. Then to Ireland's confessions of 1805, he had another go at telling his side of the story. Ours is actually the 1874 reprint. Here are some helpful comparisons of Shakespeare's autograph. So this ends my overview of our holdings. We do have more, but we'd be here all night. Thank you. Great.

Kate Flaherty: Thank you, Susannah. Now, the play's the thing. Let's turn our attention to the drama at the centre of it all, "Vortigern." My first impressions, I set myself the test of reading it before I read any of the criticism, would I pick up that it is not written by Shakespeare? Things I noticed immediately. William Henry Ireland had the hang of blank verse, that is that iambic pentameter, but there were very few clever interruptions to it, so much less invention in his use of verse. It reads like a best hits of Shakespeare, which none of Shakespeare's plays do, funnily enough. It's uneven in that characters are at the centre of the drama, get detailed treatment, and you applauded some of the best passages in the play. But characters around the edges, including pretty much all of the female characters, are stick figures and the female characters hardly have an original thought. Which is not anything like Shakespeare's female characters.  

"Vortigern" takes its topic as the key moment in history of post-Roman Britain, the moment when King Vortigern invited the Saxons to assist him to fight the Picts and Scots. There we go. There we have Hollinshed. So William Henry followed Shakespeare in use of sources and here we have Hollinshed, but also Geoffrey of Monmouth's 12th century "The History of the Kings Britain." In both sources, Vortigern is a villain, a betrayer, but Ireland attempts to give him something of the inner complexity of "Macbeth" and "Richard III." He's hungry for absolute power, but he has these moments of reservation. At the beginning of the play, Constantius, who is the king, offers to share the crown with his valued advisor Vortigern. Outwardly, Vortigern accepts, but privately he plans to kill the king.

Jo Turner: What! Jointly wear the crown? No! I will all! And my purpose may soon find its end, this, my good King, must I unmannerly push from his seat and fill myself the chair.

Kate Flaherty: The murder accomplished, like "Macbeth," Vortigern fakes shock and grief at the death of the king and blames it on the usual suspects, the Scots. In a scene like in "Richard III," Vortigern's supporters, a nebulous bunch of unnamed barons, urge him not to surrender the crown fully to King Constantius' son, but to share it with him. Vortigern makes a pretense of calling Aurelius, that's the prince and his brother Uter back from Rome in order to co-crown Aurelius. But he secretly plans to kill them too.  

In this fraught atmosphere we meet Queen Edmunda, wife of Vortigern. She is grieving his emotional abandonment of her, which she blames on his thirst for power. Her grief is something after the pattern of Porcia, the wife of Brutus in "Julius Caesar." Like Edmunda, her four children are disturbed by the goings on in the kingdom. Flavia, the daughter, is engaged to Prince Aurelius, but Vortigern decided to offer her to the chief of this nebulous group of barons and the chief doesn't have a name either. She and her brother Pascentius agreed to run away. They decide to take the court fool with them as in a comedy as you like it. The fool though is disaffected too. So he's a heady mix of touchstone "King Lear" and "Falstaff."  

In act two, we jumped to Rome, King Constantius' sons Aurelius and Uter receive word of their father's death at the hands of Vortigern. They decide to return and raise an army. Where? In Scotland, of course, To take their rightful place on the throne. We then catch up with Pascentius and Flavia now disguised as a boy. Unlike in Shakespeare's cross-dressing escapades where the dressing is centred to the action, five years disguise just turns up as an afterthought. Perhaps it was. We'll return to that point later.  

At the beginning of Act three, Vortigern apprised of the coming threat, decides to enlist the support of the Saxons, King Hengist and his son Horsus. This in the conventional history of the Britains is the fatal misstep. The same act sees Aurelius and Uter land on British soil and Aurelius praise uncannily like Henry V on the night before St. Crispin's Day. Emily?

Emily Edwards: O God! Why should I, a mere speck on earth, tear thousands from their wives, children, and homes! O, wherefore from this transitory sleep, that now doth steal from their inward cares, should I send thousands to cold dreary death? 'Tis true, I am a king, and what of that? Is not life dear to them, as 'tis to me? O peasant, envy not the prince's lot.

Kate Flaherty: Thank you, Emily. So Flavia who's running around in the woods with her brother disguised as a boy, begins to miss her mother. And she sings a sad song that is somewhat like Desdemona's sad song in "Othello” and because I think it's time for a song, we're gonna have Emily sing some of Desdemona's sad song in "Othello."  

Emily Edwards (singing): The poor soul sat sighing by the sycamore tree. Sing all a green willow, willow. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee. Sing willow, willow, willow.

Kate Flaherty: Now in his confession, William Henry says that he added this song for Mrs. Jordan to sing, Dorothy Jordan. Let's hear how he says that.

Emily Edwards: I should here acquaint the reader in order to account for the statement above that ditty was expressly composed for Mrs. Jordan, that every leading character introduced in the "Vortigern" was positively written for some certain performer.

Kate Flaherty: So evidently young William Henry was quite chummy with the leading comic actress of the day, Dorothy Jordan, who played Flavia. Now, if you are interested in Dorothy Jordan and you should be, please read Claire Tomalin's wonderful biography called "Mrs. Jordan's Profession." She was the mistress of the Duke Clarence, who eventually became William IV and unceremoniously dumped her and left her to die in poverty. She viewed the Shakespeare papers quite positively. She and the Duke visited the exhibition, I'm sure they didn't have to pay and was strongly enthusiastic. Well, one good turn deserves another, so William Henry wrote her an extra sad song, threw it in along with the boy disguise. "It was for the same reason," he says, "that I caused Mrs. Jordan to assume the male attire as she was so universally allowed to become the male costume." You only have to think about what the male costume would be in those days to see how Mrs. Jordan would be highly appreciated in it.  

On the night of the performance, William Henry seemed too afraid to be in the audience and he hovered backstage with Mrs Jordan receiving encouraging feedback as the play went on. What a picture. She's acting, right, and coming back and saying, "It's going well, William." She's like, she's an amazing multitasker. She had 10 children.  

Back to the action though. After her bonus sad song, Flavia and Pascentius bumped into an unnamed captain of Aurelius' forces and are taken to the safety of the encampment. Meanwhile, back at Vortigern's palace, the disappearance of her two children tips lonely queen Edmunda over the edge. You might like to compare this to any mad scene you can recall in Shakespeare's plays.

Jo Turner: Madam, I fear your reason wanders.

Emily Edwards: Aye, aye! I understand thee, it is flown. My poor brain, alas, is sore distempered. Sweet, sweet, come from yon branch here's food for thee. My pretty birds come back, I will not harm ye. My bosom is your little nest and is warm, and is as soft, aye, and full of comfort too. Nay, nay stop! It is too warm, come not! 'Twill burn ye.

Kate Flaherty: While this is happening in the palace, somewhere outside of London the battle between Vortigern's forces aided by the Saxons and Prince Aurelius' forces aided by the Scots begins. It seems to go Vortigern's way at first, but then Pascentius is bumps into Hengist's daughter, Horsus, and kills him. For some reason, Horsus who has just fought to the death for his own father now decides to betray him. In his dying throes, he whispers in Pascentius' ear.

Jo Turner: Hmm?

Kate Flaherty: Does he?

Jo Turner: Well.

Kate Flaherty: He doesn't need to really.

Emily Edwards: I shall whisper into Pascentius' ear.

Jo Turner: Where are we?

Emily Edwards: But O, I'm faint, death's cold and heavy hand doth rest like ice upon my parting soul. Go to the King I pray thee, bid him beware of Hengist.

Kate Flaherty: This reminds me of...

Jo Turner: You can certainly go on back.

Kate Flaherty: Reminds you bit of "O brother, where are thou? Do not seek the treasure." The tide begins to turn against Vortigern and the Saxons, but Hengist has one more card to play. His bewitching daughter, Rowena, lands by ship and is briefed on the part she must play.

Jo Turner: Daughter, thou heard'st but now the king's approach.

Emily Turner: Your officer so expressed it.

Jo Turner: True. And do'st hear, much rests with thee to do.

Emily Edwards: If ought, dear father, my poor services can aid thee, but command and I'll obey.

Jo Turner: Thus then it is, I shall prepare a feast and greet the King with joy and merriment. Women I know have very many ways and subtle traps to catch the hearts of men. So practice all your arts to win his love.

Emily Edwards: But should I fail?

Jo Turner: Nay? Do not fear it. I do know him well. Come to my tent and there we will weigh this business.

Kate Flaherty: Yeah. He needs a line to get off the stage. The meeting of Vortigern and Rowena was very popular depiction in 18th century culture. In fact, William Henry Ireland cites a copy of Mortimer's painting as being, along with Hollinshed, an inspiration for his play. In Hollinshed, Rowena is confederate in the plan. In Ireland's play, she is an enigmatic figure who doesn't get to say very much. He seems not to know how to make her move or speak. As we just heard, he breaks the rule of show, don't tell by having Hengist attribute to her subtle traps and arts of women. Okay, Hengist, if you say so. She also picks up a little bit of extra evil through association. Did you pick up that hint? She asks her father, "But, should I fail?" Yes, he did. This resonates with a very memorable scene between "Macbeth." So let's have the real scene.

Emily Edwards: I have given suck and know how tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me. I would, while it was smiling in my face, have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums and dashed the brains out had I so sworn as you have done to this.

Jo Turner: If we should fail.

Emily Edwards: We fail. But screw your courage to the sticking place and we'll not fail.

Kate Flaherty: Yeah. So, you can see that Rowena is pretty beige compared to Shakespeare's version of a cunning female villain. Nevertheless, Vortigern falls into this supposed trap. He welcomes Rowena with great ceremony as we have in the image here, and he dismisses the complaints of his son as he ditches his wife.

Jo Turner: O thou most lovely maiden! Here, let me pledge thee in this golden cup. On its smooth brim I pray thee print a kiss, so I may inhale the roseate sweets, and taste the nectar of those vermil lips. This seat is empty, fair Rowena. Take it. And would it were that which Jove's wife doth hold!

Kate Flaherty: It is Edmunda's seat. The queen's, our mother's.

Jo Turner: Peace! She is unworthy of that station.

Kate Flaherty: Vortigern's decision to replace their mother sours his relationship with his two remaining sons. And so they switch sides. They take their mother with them and join Aurelius and Uter. Vortigern in exchange for Rowena also hands over the whole of Kent to Hengist. This sours his relationship with his still unnamed barons. One of the Vortigern sons kills Hengist and Rowena who was planning to poison Vortigern is taken prisoner and poisons herself instead. At this point, Vortigern retreats to his palace within the walls of London and the tide of bad news rolls in. Like Anthony, he tries to convince one of his officers to help him kill himself. This officer Vortigern describes is a lifelong faithful friend but he's never turned up in the play until this moment and he has no name. I think he was gonna come back and do all the names later but ran out of time.  

So the officer tells Vortigern, "No, your queen is still alive." Which queen? We might ask. Presumably Vortigern thinks of the beautiful Rowena because he changes his mind about the suicide plan. This is so unlike Shakespeare. It's very like other moments in Vortigern. We see no decision process. It's just a sudden about face and very dramatically clunky. Vortigern commands the trumpets.

Jo Turner: Trumpets sound!

Kate Flaherty: Commands the gates to be defended.

Jo Turner: Man the gates!

Kate Flaherty: And cries.

Jo Turner: Away, away! And now for victory!

Kate Flaherty: He was about to kill himself a few seconds earlier. Act five brings a change of pace with a sentimental reunion of Vortigern's whole family except for Vortigern. Edmunda's mind is still wandering but she's strains to recognise her daughter.

Emily Edwards: Bring here my glasses, stand before me here. Now, now I'll judge thee well, I'll see this straight.  

Glasses.

Kate Flaherty: It's a poor copy of a "King Lear" recognition scene. It may have struck older members of the audience as strange because Shakespeare, as far as I can see, in my wonderful Harvard concordance, never used the word glasses to apply to seeing aids. The Oxford Dictionary cites the first use of glasses in this meaning in 1736, oops.  

The plot finally comes to a climax at the Tower of London where Vortigern whose small loyal force of unnamed barons and unnamed officers retreat to what they call Caesar's Tower. Well this is a way of referring to the Tower of London. It's a clumsy nod to Shakespeare. The iconic central structure of the Tower of London complex was of course built by William the Conqueror in 1078. But in Shakespeare's "Richard III," just before he is locked in the tower, the little prince in Buckingham have a historiographical conversation about it. The evil Uncle Richard is listening in.

Emily Edward: I do not like the tower of any place. Did Julius Caesar build the place, my lord?"

Kate Flaherty: He did, my gracious lord, begin the place. Which, since, succeeding ages have reedified.

Emily Edwards: It is upon record or else reported successively from age to age, he built it?

Kate Flaherty: It is upon record. Upon record, my gracious lord.

Emily Edwards: But say my lord, it were not registered. Methinks the truth should live from age to age as 'twere retailed to all posterity, even to the general all-ending day.

Jo Turner: So wise so young, they say, do never live long.

Kate Flaherty: The young prince had he lived longer would've been an excellent historian. He wants to discuss how we know what we know about the past, which is more reliable, documented facts or oral accounts passed down over time. This of course, is very topical for the play itself, for its own influence in twisting the truth about Richard III and the princes in the tower. It is also topical for us tonight as we think about the confidence people invested in William Henry's documentary evidence. But we need to return to his plate once more to push through to the sour sweet ending after calling for trumpets, remember, renewing his defence. Vortigern has another inconvenient attack of conscience and asks his nameless followers to comfort him.

Jo Turner: Pour forth, I pray thee now, some flattering words, for I am weary, and my lamp of life doth sadly linger, and would fain go out, for look you, my poor soul is sore diseased.

Emily Edwards: Courage, my noble sir.

Jo Turner: Time was, alas! I needed not this spur. But here's a secret, and a stinging thorn, that wounds my troubled nerves. O, conscience! Conscience! When thou didst cry, I strove to stop thy mouth, by boldy thrusting on thee dire ambition, then did I think myself a god.

Kate Flaherty: He describes this vision that he has of 50 breathless bodies mocking him of death, clad in hideous colours, stalking him. He begins to speak directly to death.

Jo Turner: O! Then thou dost ope wide thy hideous jaws, and with rude laughter, and fantastic tricks, thou clap'st thy rattling fingers to thy sides. And when this solemn mockery is ended.

Kate Flaherty: Stop!

Jo Turner: What?

Kate Flaherty: So that's the point at which the whole thing came undone on the 2nd of April. William Henry in his confession shows how this happens. William Henry, could you tell us how that happened?

Emily Edwards: No sooner was the above line uttered in the most tone of voice possible then the most discordant how echoed from the pit that ever assailed the organs of hearing. After the lapse of 10 minutes, clammer subsided when Mr Kemble having again obtained a hearing, instead of proceeding with the speech at the ensuing line, very politely in order to amuse the audience still more redelivered the very line above with even more of a solemn grimace than he had in the first instance displayed.

Kate Flaherty: Thank you, William Henry. Jo, an even more solemn grimace. So we're gonna give that a go. Remember, you're speaking to death, but you're also trying to get the biggest laugh out of the audience. You've got your own little play within the play going on because you're critiquing the play as you go. And you're not off the hook. There's no such thing as a free lecture. That clamour that was described, you're bringing that into the picture. So what I want is noise and then when I go like this, the noise is stop. Probably not 10 minutes though. Not 10 minutes. Are you up to that? Yeah, that's good enough. Are you ready, Jo?

Jo Turner: Yes.

Kate Flaherty: Okay. Clamour.

Audience: [makes noise]

Jo Turner: And when this solemn mockery is ended, with icy hand thou tak'st him by the feet, and upward so, till thou dost reach the heart, and wrap him in the cloak of lasting night.

Audience: [makes noise]

Jo Turner: Good.

Kate Flaherty: So on the fateful night, the play amazingly went limping on. And so Vortigern himself despite hearing of Rowena's death, hearing of Rowena's death, decides to fight on.

Jo Turner: Okay, you died.

Kate Flaherty: In his final desperation, he asks not for a horse but for another sword.

Jo Turner: Give me another sword! I have so clogg'd and badged this with blood, and slipp'ry gore, that it doth mock my gripe. A sword, I say!  

My kingdom for a sword.

Kate Flaherty: Evidently William Henry was not as familiar with swordmanship as Shakespeare. A clogged up sword. At the last, Aurelius confronts Vortigern. They fight. Vortigern is thrown to the ground and then conveniently his daughter Flavia enters and tells Aurelius to spare her father's life. This is a major departure from Shakespeare's tragedies and tragic histories, but is very much in keeping with 18th century sensibilities. You might know that the preferred ending of "King Lear" throughout the whole of this period written by Nahum Tate, improved by Nahum Tate, was a happy ending.  

So, too, with Vortigern. He is forced to render up his crown. He bestows his daughter on Prince Aurelius and he is led off to the friar, presumably to receive some spiritual correction or something. The play proper, as supposedly written by Shakespeare, ends with the full giving an epilogue in rhyming couplets of which we had a sample earlier. He speaks directly to the audience, but in the tone of "Falstaff." "I will not risk a knocking down, for though I like my king, I like my crown." What a way to wrap things up, hey. And then we have that terrible led and rhyme with Hollinshed.  

So, this brings us to the close of curtains on the one and only night "Vortigern" was played in the theatre. There have been some 20th and 21st century attempts to revive it. And we wonder if perhaps Samuel should have heeded the advice of one of his most faithful friends, a believer, Francis Webb, who pleaded with him in this way in the week before "Vortigern" arrived on stage.

Jo Turner: How is your hidden friend, Mr H, affected by all this? Will ought prevail upon him to come forward in some shape or other to frustrate these bold and infamous designs? Here's the stop. Here we hitch and here we shall hang. Depend on it. "Vortigern" will not go down.

Kate Flaherty: Poor Francis. Another sign that the enterprise was perhaps doomed was arrived in the mail for or she for Samuel Ireland. And it was from the actress Sarah Siddons. The great Sarah Siddons.

Emily Edwards: Mrs Siddons compliments Mr. Ireland. She finds "Vortigern" is intended to be performed next Saturday and begs to assure them that she is very sorry. The weak state of her health after almost six weeks of severe indisposition renders her incapable of even going to the necessary rehearsals of the play, much less to act.

Kate Flaherty: Poor Sarah. Just long enough to miss the whole rehearsal period. She was polite to Mr. Ireland, but she communicated her real opinion in a letter to a female friend.

Emily Edwards: All sensible persons are convinced that "Vortigern" is a most audacious imposter. If he be not, I can only say that Shakespeare's writings are more unequal than those of any other man.

Kate Flaherty: Thank you, Sarah. It's always great to have Sarah in the house. And what can we say of her brother, John Philip Kemble? In his preface to the play, which he edited and published in 1799, Samuel Ireland implies that Kemble was at fault. He castigates the ludicrous manner in which the principal character was sustained. Jeffrey Kahn points to Kemble and Malone as engineering between them, a conspiracy to bring down the play. Kemble himself in lay to life, denied that he acted in any way that purposely mocked the play. Do we believe him? We might remember that it was Kemble who argued to have it performed on the 1st of April.  

Samuel Ireland publicly refused to accept his son’s confession. And as we can see from their parallel publishing activity, he went on to lay "Vortigern" before the public has a book. He says, "For their more careful criticism." Do we believe him? The two parted ways and never reconciled. William Henry publicly and repeatedly claimed that all the papers in the play was his own work. There was the authentic account of 1796, the confession of 1805, and the confession of 1832 published with the play. Isn't he like someone on social media who keeps saying, "I'm so sorry I did that terrible thing. Do you wanna know how I did it?" He signed a statement that exonerated his father from any involvement in the forgeries. But do we believe him?  

At the end of the "Vortigern" story, we are left with more questions than answers because our main sources for understanding had come from those associated with the forgery. William Henry went on forging, cashing in on the public interest in the whole affair, he even sold copies of his own forgeries as the authentic original forgeries. In this passage from his confession, we get a glimpse into how his mind worked.

Emily Edwards: The play of "Vortigern" was then agreed for and with much delay brought forward. The world condemned it. But that did not lessen the satisfaction I felt in having it so early in age wrote a piece that which was not only acted, but brought forth as the work of the greatest of men. Mr. Malone's very tedious epistle then appeared. "The forgery," he says, "is weak and poorly contrived." Why then should he bestow so much time and labour and dive into antiquities or search registers of births, marriages, deaths, et cetera, and spin out an epistle of upwards of 400 pages to prove what, as he says, was visible to the meanest capacity. But most of the time he was confessedly in a dream.

Kate Flaherty: He wants to point out here, that it was a forgery. Although forgery is in italics, which is akin to saying forgery, but a really good forgery is what he wants to get away with. William Henry's strange sense of gratification at deceiving so many people and his posture of triumph is pitiful. Despite publishing his so-called confessions, William Henry never seemed penitent. Throughout the drawn out story, he vindicates himself as being a mere boy but he does this 18 months after so he's still technically a mere boy, explaining how he did it all to give pleasure to his father. But he nurses a lasting injury that "Vortigern" was not given a fair hearing, even though he was complicit in promoting it as being Shakespeare.  

There is plentiful evidence that he did not work alone though and this is interesting. Extern manuscripts of "Vortigern" show multiple hands at work, correcting, editing, changing the text. Including those of that housekeeper, Mrs Freeman, who was probably his mother, and his two sisters, also daughters of Mrs Freeman. This caricature from 1597 seems to represent a collective family affair. This is the lock of hair. This is William Henry, of course. I think this is a kind of primitive depiction of generative AI. Wouldn't you say?  

Why did Samuel refuse to admit his confederacy in the forgeries? Why did William Henry take the blame and credit repeatedly upon himself? These are questions we just can't answer. But in an age when content pilfered from diverse sources can be artificially recombined and passed off as human invention, the "Vortigern" story might be able to help us reflect upon if and why authenticity matters.

Jo Turner: You made it.

Susannah Helman: Please join me in thanking Kate, Jo, and Emily.

Kate Flaherty: And Susannah.

Susannah Helman: I think we had a couple of notices.

Emily Edwards: Oh yes, but well, we're about to have a question time, is that correct? I just wanted to say thank you to you all and if you've enjoyed this evening, to give a shout out to the Bell Shakespeare season that we've just launched last night, our season for 2025. Jo, do you wanna hold up my handy prop over to the left there?

Jo Turner: Sure do.

Emily Edwards: Left right. Beautiful. So, if you are interested, you can grab one of these on the way out. It's hot off the press, literally just last night we announced that next year we're doing "Henry V," "Romeo and Juliet," and "Coriolanus" as our three plays across the season. If you're interested in coming along to any of those, "Henry V" is opening in April next year at the Canberra Theatre Centre. "Romeo and Juliet" is beginning its tour in August, opening in Canberra again. And "Coriolanus" is playing in Sydney and Melbourne across June through to August. And there's also a number of amazing Bell Shakespeare public events that we're running, including next month in October, a partnership with Archie Rose, a program called Shakespeare Distilled, which there are still tickets for. If you're interested, please look it up. And then in next March we have On Shakespeare, Politics, and Power, which is gonna be a thrilling night. So if you're interested in any of those, please grab a brochure on the way out. You can start booking your tickets and subscriptions now. Thank you.

Susannah Helman: Thank you. Kate, did you have any?

Kate Flaherty: I don't have any news.

Susannah Helman: We do have some time for a few questions. So if you'd like to ask a question, please raise your hand and a microphone will be brought to you. For the benefit of people joining us online or using our hearing loop, please wait for the microphone before asking your question. Yes.

Audience member 1: That came very quickly. Oh. Yes. Hello. Thank you so much for this evening. All three of you is deeply entertaining as well, it's very, very interesting from sort of an academic perspective.

Kate Flaherty: Edutainment.

Audience member 1: Yes. There should be more of this. I particularly like the point that you made at the end where you made the comparison to generative AI and the sort of pulling from various sources, very contemporary, very, very interesting comparison to make. How much do you think that the context of this being somebody attempting to replicate Shakespeare, who as we all know is, you know, sort of fantastic in so many ways and attempting to replicate that. How much does that reflect upon the quality of "Vortigern" as a work as compared to something to bring it back to Australia, say like the Ern Malley hoax where you can look at that now and say, well, actually on its own merits it is quite good. Do you think that this is sort of a unique example of something kind of being a work that can be judged on the merits of it being quite bad when compared to what it's attempting to replicate? Or I guess what I'm asking is, do you think that there's sort of a rule that these things are always viewed in a bad light or can they be genuinely good works on their own merits?

Kate Flaherty: You're looking at me so I suppose I'll answer it. My thinking with this case is that William Henry missed out on being a very good writer because he tried to ally himself with being a great writer. So I guess every hoax, like every piece of literature, should be weighed on its own, on its own merits I think. And you know, a classic wonderful Australian example is Gwen Harwood who passed off sonnets in the Bulletin, which stood as beautiful sonnets in on their own but she was very angry that the Bulletin only published her when she wrote under a male pseudonym. So she worked this acrostic into the sonnets that said, so long Bulletin beep all editors. But it didn't say beep. So, that it's masterful hoax and I think that there is such thing as a kind of scale of quality of hoaxes. This one making it all the way to Drury Lane has to rank, right as a story?  

Audience member 1: And it can be quite funny on its own.

Kate Flaherty: Absolutely. Yeah, yeah.

Audience member 1: Thank you.

Susannah Helman: Any more questions?

Audience member 2: I guess looking at this through contemporary eyes, there's a elephant in the room. You know, we live in an age of hoaxes and we've got one giant red blob across the Pacific who's about to possibly become president again. I mean, I guess the question is, a lot of this rings sort of quite familiar in terms of, you know, you mentioned there were believers and there were people wanting to believe and there were people who were going to great lengths to put holes in it. But do you think people then were more worried about truth than they are now? Because this whole problem around it seems social media and the whole ability to actually, we talk about generative AI, actually getting to the truth of things just becoming so much hard work, just forget about it and go with what you like. If things changed, do you think the people then were more like perhaps people here 50 years ago or even 30 years ago than people are now? Or do you think this is perhaps overblown and people still are fairly concerned about the hoaxes and the conspiracy theories and the madness?

Emily Edwards: Such a tricky thing to gauge, isn't it? I personally think that time changes but people remain the same. I think that's some of the fun of this story comes out of just how human some of these characters that emerge are. The actor that doesn't believe but go, wants to go on or the Mrs

Kate Flaherty: Freeman?

Emily Edwards:Yes. Who is whispering in the wings. Saying, good job. The people that really wanted it to be true for maybe perfectly lovely reasons, they wanted it to be true. And unfortunately it just didn't quite work. But I think at that particular time in history, you just have to factor in that belief was something different perhaps than what belief is these days. We quantify it differently. And of course it was inextricably linked up in religious beliefs and faith and that sort of things in a way that perhaps it's become more about the burden of proof these days. That's my thoughts and feelings. Anything?

Kate Flaherty: My strong thought is that it's key, it's so important to understand the past, to live in an informed way in the present. And I love the way that these moments can reflect on one another. But the other observation is that new technologies are built into both situations. So, it was print technology that permitted these pamphlets and books to be churned out and to be circulating constantly. And print technology had been around for a while, but the fairly new technology in this era was the pamphlet. And a lot of these little books we've been talking about are in fact pamphlets. So, I'm in favour of saying the things stay somewhat the same and certainly understanding what happened in the past can help us to approach the present with a keener eye of an analysis.

Emily Edwards: Great question.

Susannah Helman: One or two more questions and then. Anyone?

Audience member 3: We saw that in, when you contrasted the "Vortigern" with legitimate Shakespeare, that it's so that Shakespeare has such an unmistakable way of writing. It's so easy to pick apart when someone is badly trying to imitate Shakespeare. But do you think "Vortigern" potentially could have been more artistically successful or had more artistic merit if it instead attempted to be an homage to Shakespeare instead of trying to pass itself off as a forgery?

Jo Turner: Well, I'd probably say on that, that always when you're working with young writers or you're encouraging young writers, you're saying don't copy anyone. Because what you often read, I mean, I've read lots of scripts in my life by young writers who are sending works to theatre companies and we're assessing them. And you see them come in and you read within the first half a page, you're going, "Oh, that's the Pinter." You go, "Ah, yeah, that's the Ibsen." So you see people trying to write in a particular style and almost immediately you say, "Well, I can't. I don't have time." 'Cause what you're looking for is an authentic voice. So certainly it's possible that if he'd focused on his own authentic voice, there are some passages in there which as an actor feel quite pleasant to perform in the same way that Shakespeare does. There are moments when it feels like, yes, that feels rich, that feels right. So, I think there is a voice in there but I think he spent a lot of wasted time and effort trying to copy Shakespeare literally, you know? There may have been another world where he had just written good plays, you know?

Kate Flaherty: And he wrote so much that had he worked at refining it, surely he would've got better. You have to get better, right?

Jo Turner: But then his dad probably came in and said, "We can monetize this. You're the Shakespeare guy. You just do that, my boy. Don't worry about being an artist.”

Susannah Helman: Last question I think.

Audience member 4: Hi. I noticed the last couple questions are focusing on difference between past and present and how we perceive truth and how worried we are about it. But I was thinking about the difference between the people who, like Kate and Sarah Siddons, would've said, "Oh, this is rubbish." And they tell that by the fact that they've read the play "Vortigern." And Malone, who's coming in with his highly sophisticated, extremely long textual criticism. The two different ways of judging it and I presume two different sets of people in 1795, 1796, which is the date that cues me to Jane Austen, of course, the very moment when she already has the very early versions of "Pride and Prejudice" and "Sense and Sensibility." I'm wondering if she ever saw any of those pamphlets or copies of the play and did she need Malone or did she judge for herself?

Kate Flaherty: What a great question. Do we have an answer in the audience?

Audience Member 5: Well, it just occurred to me with that scene where the family all getting kind of head up about drama is just like the scene in "Mansfield Park."

Kate Flaherty: Mansfield Park.

Audience member 5: Well, the father's away and the family gets very overly passionate about putting on a play. So, I just think that's a good observation, that's all.

Kate Flaherty: Oh, you've raised a fantastic question to pursue. I need some time to find the answer. If you have have the answer, please come and talk to me.

Susannah Helman: Okay. Last, last one just down here.

Audience Member 6: In the 1890s, no, 1790s actually, a German novel was published with a lot of passages analysing "Hamlet." So, "Hamlet" was a big thing. What sort of repercussions were there on the continent? Was this a big scandal, a big issue in, well, beyond British shores?

Kate Flaherty: I don't have an answer. Do you have an answer for that?

Susannah Helman: No, no. We'll have to look into it.

Kate Flaherty: I do know that the Ossian poems by James Macpherson that I described as one of the earlier, not really hoaxes, but literary controversies, were criticised strongly in Britain, but taken up on the continent as wonderful. It's almost like they didn't care what their provenance was.

Audience Member 6: In the novel "The Sorrows of Young Werther," in the first half of the book, Werther reads Homer. In the second part of the book when he's falling apart, he reads Ossian. So that is in fact Werther's way. And that was, by the way, Napoleon's favourite book. He had a copy of it on the Battle of Waterloo.

Kate Flaherty: Yes, yes. I learned that today.

Susannah Helman: Yes. There are some wonderful books around about forgeries, the history of forgeries, and yes, we've mostly focused on Chatterton, I think, and this when in our reading around. Yeah.

Kate Flaherty: I should put that slide up that has the extra reading.

Jo Turner: It's interesting for us as well 'cause I'd be interested to know of you in the audience who had heard of the play "Vortigern" before you decided to attend tonight. Because, and I'll admit this freely, even at Bell Shakespeare, I've been asking around and people have not heard of this forgery. So it's quite interesting 'cause we're quite obsessed with who wrote some of the players, and we know they're not all written by him completely. So we do a lot of inquiry, but this one hasn't really sort of filtered through into that space. So, that's interesting that it had this lovely bubble of an effect, but maybe it didn't travel for very long in terms of but also because he owned it, I suppose, as a forgery in a way.

Kate Flaherty: So quickly.

Jo Turner: Yeah, yeah.

Kate Flaherty: So quickly but also the 18th century is a period deemed to have really messed with Shakespeare. So it's interesting that that's sort of put aside. Well, every century messes with it, Shakespeare. Go on messing.

Susannah Helman: Thank you for sharing those questions with us. Unfortunately, we've run out of time. Please join me once again in thanking Dr Kate Flaherty, Jo Turner, and Emily Edwards. We hope to see you here at the Library or online again soon. Good night.