Vortigern

In Short

This book is a unique artifact of literary history: a tragedy presented by its author as a "lost" Shakespeare play, which was infamously debunked by critics and audiences alike in 1796. The play follows the mythic British king Vortigern, whose murderous ascent to the throne leads to his inevitable ruin. Beyond the drama itself, the book serves as a memoir of its creator’s downfall, detailing the immense social and professional backlash he endured. It remains a fascinating study of creative ego, the nature of authenticity, and the hazards of cultural obsession.

The Story

The narrative begins with King Constantius, a man of peace who attempts to secure his kingdom’s future by delegating power to his trusted, yet deeply ambitious, subject, Vortigern. Despite this act of grace, Vortigern’s lust for the throne is absolute. He conspires with two assassins, who, despite experiencing a momentary prick of conscience, murder the king while he prays. With his rival out of the way, Vortigern orchestrates his own rise, framing the Scots for the crime and assuming the role of protector until the rightful heirs, the young princes Aurelius and Uter, return from Rome.

As Vortigern tightens his grip on power, his court becomes a site of moral decay. He becomes enamored with Rowena, a Saxon woman, and in a flagrant violation of law and propriety, decides to divorce his wife, Edmunda, to marry her. This betrayal pushes his children—Wortimerus, Catagrinus, and Pascentius—into opposition, while Edmunda descends into a tragic, singing madness, broken by the cruelty of her husband and the abandonment of her status. Meanwhile, the true heirs, Aurelius and Uter, learn of the treachery. Aurelius, initially reluctant to shed blood, is forced by circumstance to raise an army to reclaim his birthright and avenge his father.

The conflict culminates in a chaotic clash between the forces of the usurper and the rightful princes. Vortigern’s rule, built on murder and broken oaths, begins to crumble as his loyalists flee and his allies defect. In the final act, the palace falls. Vortigern, increasingly desperate and haunted by his own "wicked soul," seeks one last stand. He commands his men to fight to the death, but the momentum of justice is against him. As the gates of his fortress are breached, the once-mighty king finds himself isolated, his power stripped away, and his legacy reduced to ash. Ultimately, the rightful heirs prevail, and the tyrant is left to face the ruin he invited, leaving behind a kingdom scarred by his vanity and the devastating cost of his pursuit of the crown.

How It Unfolds

The pact of blood Constantius elevates Vortigern to co-regent, only to be immediately betrayed by the man he trusted. Vortigern hires two assassins to carry out the murder, setting the cycle of violence into motion.

The usurpation of order Vortigern seizes the crown under the guise of being a protector, while the rightful princes remain unaware in Rome. He orchestrates a public deception to hide his guilt, though his own conscience begins to fray under the pressure of his lies.

The descent into chaos Driven by an illicit passion for Rowena, Vortigern discards his loyal wife, Edmunda, whose subsequent insanity highlights the moral disintegration of the court. His own children turn against his tyrannical whims, signaling that his domestic and political foundations are failing.

The call to vengeance Aurelius and Uter receive word of their father’s murder and return with a massive army to reclaim the throne. Despite his internal struggle with the ethics of war, Aurelius accepts the necessity of battle to restore order.

The final reckoning The forces of the rightful heirs shatter the defenses of the usurper, leading to the collapse of the palace walls. Vortigern, abandoned by his men and haunted by his deeds, is left to confront the total annihilation of his reign.

The People

Vortigern is the central figure, defined by an insatiable desire for power that consumes his sense of morality. He transitions from a seemingly loyal advisor to a desperate tyrant who eventually recognizes that his guilt has made him a pariah. Constantius serves as the catalyst for the tragedy; he is a benevolent, if naive, sovereign whose misplaced trust provides the opportunity for his own demise. Edmunda represents the human cost of Vortigern’s ambition; her descent into madness serves as the most potent symbol of the chaos he creates in his own home. Aurelius acts as the moral foil to the king; he is a reluctant warrior who seeks justice rather than simple vengeance, embodying the virtues that Vortigern lacks. Finally, the Fool provides a biting, cynical commentary on the proceedings, acting as a reminder of the instability of the world Vortigern tries to control.

In Its Own Voice

"O! if each drop that were to issue from thee, was a most costly jewel, and the whole were my reward, by heav’n I would not do’t!"

An officer responds to Vortigern’s demand that he strike the king down, highlighting the moral revulsion felt by those surrounding the tyrant.

"O, God! why should I, a mere speck on earth, Tear thousands from their wives, children, and homes!"

Aurelius reflects on the heavy, unwanted burden of waging war, contrasting his hesitation with the cold ambition of his rival.

"Last Whitsunday, they brought me Roses, and lilies fair; Violets, too, they gave me To bind my auburn hair: But, then, my face look’d smiling, ’Cause that my babes were near; Now yon stinging nettle bring, ’Twill better suit this tear."

Edmunda sings of her lost happiness, illustrating the psychological wreckage left in the wake of the king’s betrayal.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book is an exploration of the fragility of legitimacy. It questions what makes a ruler truly "rightful"—is it the crown itself, or the moral character of the person wearing it? The play portrays power as an addictive poison, suggesting that the pursuit of authority at the cost of one's integrity inevitably leads to self-destruction. Beyond the political, there is a profound interest in the concept of the "impostor." By weaving a story about a usurper who lies his way to the throne, the author reflects on his own real-life experience as a forger. The work posits that truth, no matter how obscured by artifice or ambition, eventually demands to be brought into the light, often with devastating consequences for the deceiver.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of literary hoaxes will find this an essential document. It provides a rare, unfiltered look at the mindset of a young man who sought to trick the literary elite, only to be "gibbeted" by them in return. The writing style is a fascinating mimicry of the period’s dramatic conventions, and the inclusion of the author's later commentary offers a compelling, if defensive, perspective on the toll of public shame.

However, the reader must be prepared for the uneven nature of the prose. As a 1796 attempt at Elizabethan drama, it frequently leans into melodramatic tropes and occasionally stilted dialogue that betray its origins. The archaic spelling and period-specific references can be taxing, and the author’s long, bitter prefaces reflect a deep-seated defensiveness that might strike some as tedious. Despite these hurdles, there is a genuine, haunting quality to the scenes depicting the queen’s insanity and the king’s eventual isolation. It is a book that stays with you not because it is a lost masterpiece, but because it is a raw, human document about the desire to be great and the crushing weight of being found out. It is a cautionary tale that resonates as much today as it did in the age of the original scandal.