The Moving Finger Writes

On December 4th, 1214, the King of Scotland, later known as William the Lion, died. William came to grief when he joined the Great Rebellion against Henry in 1173, and paid a high price for it when he was captured at the siege of Alnwick Castle, for Henry held him prisoner for over a year and compelled him to swear fealty to the English Crown before being released; to add insult to injury, Henry also forced him to pay for the cost of garrisoning Scottish castles by Henry’s men. William got along much better with Richard, for Richard allowed him to buy back the castles he’d had to surrender to Henry and Richard was also willing to recognize the independence of Scotland. That would infuriate the Victorian historians, who were very empire-minded. But for Richard, this was bread cast on the waters, as William then proved to be a loyal ally when Richard was captured on his way home from the Holy Land, refusing to join in John’s conspiracy. At one time, William was going to marry Richard’s niece, Richenza, but the Pope refused to give them a dispensation for the marriage, claiming they were too closely related. Years later, William had despaired of having a son and he considered wedding his daughter to Richard’s nephew and Richenza’s brother, Otto, with the idea that Otto and his daughter would rule Scotland after his death. What happened to the consanguinity problem? Different Pope. But William’s barons balked, not liking the idea that the crown would pass through a female. And then William’s wife got pregnant again and he abandoned the Otto alliance, hopeful that his wife might give him a son, after all, as she eventually did.
Going further back in time, on December 4th, 1123, died a man who would be called a Renaissance Man had he not been born five centuries too soon. Omar Khayyam was a Persian poet, philosopher, mathematician, polymath, author, and astronomer. In the West, he is best known for The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, loosely translated by Edward Fitz Gerald in the 19th century. The first verse is perhaps the most famous:
“The Moving Finger writes
And, having writ,
Moves on, nor all thy piety nor wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line
Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.”