Uncovering the Lost: One Enthusiast’s Mission to Find Vanished Notes and Their Creators
- In the quiet corners of rare book archives and the margins of centuries-old manuscripts, fragments of literary history occasionally resurface—tantalizing clues to works long thought lost.
- The story begins in 1953, when Solomon Pottesman, a London-based book collector known in the trade as “Inky,” made an unassuming yet extraordinary find.
- Love’s Labour’s Lost is one of Shakespeare’s earliest comedies, first published in 1598.
In the quiet corners of rare book archives and the margins of centuries-old manuscripts, fragments of literary history occasionally resurface—tantalizing clues to works long thought lost. One such discovery has reignited a decades-old mystery: the search for Love’s Labour’s Won, a play attributed to William Shakespeare that vanished from the historical record over 400 years ago. While most lost works remain just that—lost—one dedicated enthusiast is now tracing the faintest traces of the play’s existence, piecing together clues from scattered notes and the hands that once held them.
The Manuscript That Started It All
The story begins in 1953, when Solomon Pottesman, a London-based book collector known in the trade as “Inky,” made an unassuming yet extraordinary find. While unwrapping a 1637 volume titled Certaine sermons, two brittle leaves of parchment slipped from its spine. The pages were filled with an Elizabethan bookseller’s inventory—titles of plays and other works scrawled in florid, archaic handwriting, with crossings-out and marginal notes suggesting a working list rather than a formal record. Among the entries, two titles stood out: Loves labor lost and Loves labor won.
To scholars, the implications were immediate. Love’s Labour’s Lost is one of Shakespeare’s earliest comedies, first published in 1598. But Love’s Labour’s Won—a title that appears in contemporary references but never in surviving texts—had long been the subject of speculation. Could this scrap of paper be the closest thing to proof that the play once existed? Cait Coker, curator of rare books and manuscripts at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, described the discovery as a window into the mind of an Elizabethan bookseller. “This [paper] was just junk,” she noted. “And then someone else would have used it, not thinking about it whatsoever, and that would have been the bones of a new book.”
A Play Lost to Time
The absence of Love’s Labour’s Won from the historical record is puzzling. The play is mentioned in two 17th-century sources: a 1603 bookseller’s list by Christopher Hunt and Francis Meres’ 1598 Palladis Tamia, which references Shakespeare’s “sugared sonnets” alongside a pair of plays titled Love’s Labour’s Lost and Love’s Labour’s Won. Yet no surviving manuscript, prompt book, or printed edition has ever been found. Theories abound—some scholars suggest it may have been an alternate title for an existing play, such as The Taming of the Shrew or Much Ado About Nothing, while others believe it was a sequel or companion piece that simply disappeared.
The 1953 discovery did not provide a definitive answer, but it did offer a tantalizing clue. The bookseller’s list, dated to the late 16th or early 17th century, placed Love’s Labour’s Won alongside other known works of the era, suggesting it was once in circulation. For enthusiasts like Pottesman, the find was a call to action—a challenge to uncover not just the play’s text, but the people who might have read, performed, or preserved it.
The Modern Quest for a Lost Work
Today, the search for Love’s Labour’s Won has taken on a new dimension. While traditional archival research continues, some investigators are turning to digital tools and crowdsourced efforts to track down leads. The Lost Media Wiki, a community dedicated to preserving and recovering lost or obscure media, has become a hub for such endeavors. Though the site primarily focuses on 20th- and 21st-century media, its forums occasionally host discussions about older works, including Shakespearean plays. The idea is simple: if a single copy of the play survived in a private collection, a family attic, or an overlooked archive, someone, somewhere, might have seen it.
One enthusiast, whose identity remains undisclosed, has taken a particularly hands-on approach. Rather than waiting for a manuscript to surface, they are tracing the provenance of the 1953 discovery itself—attempting to identify the bookseller who wrote the list, the stationery shop where it originated, and the chain of ownership that led to its eventual repurposing as bookbinding material. The hope is that by reconstructing the social and commercial networks of Elizabethan London, they might uncover new leads or even locate a forgotten copy of the play.
Why the Search Matters
The allure of Love’s Labour’s Won extends beyond academic curiosity. For Shakespeare scholars, the play represents a missing piece of the Bard’s early career. If it were found, it could reshape our understanding of his development as a writer, his thematic preoccupations, and his relationship to other playwrights of the era. For theater historians, it would offer a rare glimpse into the performance practices of the late 16th century—how plays were staged, adapted, and received by audiences.

Yet the search is also a reminder of how fragile literary history can be. The 1953 discovery was pure happenstance—a scrap of paper used to reinforce a book’s spine, surviving by chance while countless other works were lost to fire, neglect, or deliberate destruction. The First Folio, published in 1623, preserved 36 of Shakespeare’s plays, but even that landmark volume omitted others, such as Pericles and The Two Noble Kinsmen. Love’s Labour’s Won may have met a similar fate, or it may yet lie hidden in plain sight, waiting for the right person to recognize its significance.
What Comes Next?
For now, the search continues. The enthusiast tracking the 1953 manuscript’s origins is collaborating with rare book dealers, archivists, and historians to piece together the list’s journey from an Elizabethan shop to a 20th-century collector’s hands. Meanwhile, digital initiatives are underway to digitize and cross-reference surviving inventories, playbills, and correspondence from the period, in the hope that a reference to Love’s Labour’s Won might emerge from an unexpected source.
As Coker noted, the discovery of the bookseller’s list was a stroke of luck. But luck favors the prepared—and in the case of Love’s Labour’s Won, preparation means leaving no stone unturned. Whether the play is found in a dusty attic, a mislabeled archive, or the margins of another forgotten document, its rediscovery would be more than a literary triumph. It would be a testament to the enduring power of Shakespeare’s work—and the lengths to which people will go to preserve it.
Until then, the mystery remains. But for those who believe the play still exists, the hunt is far from over.
