Yet, as with the old Gaelic and Cymric tales, we have no very old copy of this tale.  But unlike these old tales, we do not find Beowulf told in different ways in different manuscripts.  There is only one copy of Beowulf, and that was probably written in the tenth or eleventh century, long years after the English were firmly settled in the land.

As Beowulf is one of our great book treasures, you may like to hear something of its story.

Long ago, in the time when Queen Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I. sat upon the throne, there lived a learned gentleman called Sir Robert Bruce Cotton.  He was an antiquary.  That is, he loved old things, and he gathered together old books, coins, manuscripts and other articles, which are of interest because they help to make us understand the history of bygone days.

Sir Robert Cotton loved books especially, and like many other book lovers, he was greedy of them.  It was said, indeed, that he often found it hard to return books which had been lent to him, and that, among others, he had books which really ought to have belonged to the King.

Sir Robert’s library soon became famous, and many scholars came to read there, for Sir Robert was very kind in allowing other people to use his books.  But twice his library was taken from him, because it was said that it contained things which were dangerous for people to know, and that he allowed the enemies of the King to use it.  That was in the days of Charles I., and those were troublous times.

The second time that his library was taken from him, Sir Robert died, but it was given back to his son, and many years later his great-great-grandson gave it to the nation.

In 1731 the house in which the library was took fire, and more than a hundred books were burned, some being partly and some quite destroyed.  Among those that were partly destroyed was Beowulf.  But no one cared very much, for no one had read the book or knew anything about it.

Where Sir Robert found Beowulf, or what he thought about it, we shall never know.  Very likely it had remained in some quiet monastery library for hundreds of years until Henry VIII. scattered the monks and their books.  Many books were then lost, but some were saved, and after many adventures found safe resting-places.  Among those was Beowulf.

Some years after the fire the Cotton Library, as it is now called, was removed to the British Museum, where it now remains.  And there a Danish gentleman who was looking for books about his own land found Beowulf, and made a copy of it.  Its adventures, however, were not over.  Just when the printed copies were ready to be published, the British bombarded Copenhagen.  The house in which the copies were was set on fire and they were all burned.  The Danish gentleman, however, was not daunted.  He set to work again, and at last Beowulf was published.

Even after it was published in Denmark, no Englishman thought of making a translation of the book, and it was not until fifty years more had come and gone that an English translation appeared.