While William of Normandy was engaging Prior Lanfranc to stir up the Vatican, King Harold and his brothers were creating their defense of fortress England. Leofwine took 25 of his personal house carls from Kent and began his survey of the south coast. It was not a great problem to select elevations suitable for signal fires, or signal flags if necessary. They had to be far enough from the beaches to prevent them being overrun by invaders and close enough for instant messages. At a nearby village the thane was instructed. The signal site was to have a supply of dry wood and kindling for rapid ignition. This would be significant at night when flames would provide the beacon. A supply of green wood and water would emit smoke for daylight hours. Each thane, two villiens and two serfs were instructed. Someone must be on duty at all times from Easter on. Leofwine would test the system when he reached the Isle of Wight. Their first fire message would indicate the early warning system was up and running Wight to Dover.

“Be prepared. Note the time of the message. Note the time that your fire burns. When I am gone, erect a pole at least twenty feet high provided with a pulley and rope. I will return with the Raven Banner of King Harold that will be raised to confirm it is an English signal and not an accidental firing of the wood. Do you understand Gorm?”

“Yes, My Lord, but when I report for duty in the fyrd?”

“That’s why there are five of you here at present. This system is of great importance. The death of you Gorm,” and he pointed, “or you, or you, must never jeopardize this system for the freedom of England or Englishmen is at stake. Bring as many signal men as you deem necessary, but this signal hill must never be left unattended. I will-hang-any-miscreant-I-find-derelict-of -duty!”

“Yes, Earl Leofwine.”

The scene was played out across the south coast while the seamstresses of Chichester were busy with the Raven Banners in King Harold’s own town. Leofwine picked up what flags were needed to furnish posts to the Isle of Wight and continued. From Portsmouth he hired a vessel to carry him over the Solent, that brief expanse of water separating Wight from England. After selecting a site on the chalk hills and his Wight signalmen, he was ready for the test. He waited until midnight as he was certain someone would be asleep at the fire. The weather was cool and clear with light winds and therefore had low humidity.

“Strike your flint!” The young man at the fire struck three times and the tinder shavings were alight. He coaxed the minuscule flame and added puffs of breath to the struggling tongues of fire. Small limbs were added to the pyramid and finally some substantial firewood. The scene would be reenacted every two miles along the Channel coast. The observers on Wight peered north into the star-filled night. The Raven Banner flapped gently in the light breeze from over the Solent.

“There!” someone pointed. The vestige of fire was evident on the mother island. The conflagration grew and when it seemed the hill itself was ablaze a pinprick of flame licked at other tinder two miles to the east. It was working! A chain of fires spread out across the land; each link creating a stronger England. The participants were elated with their success.

“My Lord Leofwine.”

“Yes, My Signalman?”

“Sometimes when the weather is wet or the firewood damp the fire might be hard to set.”

“Yes, that’s why you must protect the wood with oilskins.”

“No, My Lord, what I was going to say was, that we could have a fire pot handy on the signal site. When the signal came we could shovel some coals from the fire pot into our tinder and kindling which would increase the speed of the message and give the watcher some warmth on a cold night.

It might keep the signalman awake tending the fire pot.”

“Good idea, young man. I will pass along your idea on my return trip.”

Leofwine gathered his escort the next morning , anxious to check the speed of the transmission. With the rest of his force he collected the rest of the necessary banners and gave further instructions concerning the banners and the fire pots. Wight to Dover, one hundred and twenty miles as the crow flies or the signal fires signalled would then entail fifty to sixty signal stations. The odds of failure increased in proportion to the number of fires , but all had gone well. Every station had been alert and only one had trouble with their tinder. The new directive about the fire pot would likely solve that. Dover received the message in fifteen hours. Fire pots and practice would likely reduce it to twelve hours.

Harold and his retinue rode for the west country which should have been an exhilarating experience in the early spring, particularly the tropical south coast-Somerset, Dorset, Devon and Cornwall. They rode in fine spring weather, London south to Chichester and Harold’s Wessex estate. After a brief stopover, Harold took his troops and followed the coast road. He didn’t expect to travel much farther than Exeter. They gathered in Portsmouth and Southhampton reminding minor lords of their military duty. Riders took the message north to the Salisbury Plain, Trowbridge, Bath and Bristol. The folks from the mouth of the Severn would not be anxious to leave home. Too many times invaders had attacked from the Bristol Channel.

The main force continued to Christchurch and Bournemouth. A second group of messengers headed north to Shaftesbury, Wells, Cheddar and the Mendip Hills. Others went south into Purbeck and the chalk cliffs while the King went on to Dorchester passing the ancient chalk carvings. Another troop, a press gang, made for Yeovil and Bridgwater. Outside of Bridgwater near a tiny hamlet of Cannington they came upon two staunch supporters of King Harold, Leofgar and Mereswith, who insisted they ride with his emissaries.

From the Bristol Channel the house carls made their way back to the south by other lanes touching the populace of the southwest villages. All met at Exeter. King Harold held to the south shore touching his favorite area of rolling hills of South Devon, Axminster, Shute, Honiton to Exeter. Emissaries were sent further west into Cornwall. These descendants of early Britons had not forgotten the past. Their oral historians could still recite the battles with the Saxons. Harold may have been treated to the shrewish wife’s meal: cold shoulder and hot tongue, but with the defense of England and their homes the thanes responded. Being privy to the defense secrets, the native Briton warriors would gather for a May Day departure from Portsmouth. After Easter came with Easter services and Easter feasts, the stream of thanes and accompanying villiens began their trek to Wight.

Given the seriousness of their summons, the army of the fyrd made haste to answer their call to arms. The celebration of Easter over, the lanes were alive with armed strangers which startled the uninformed. This was particularly evident on the night of April 18, 1066. A celestial object appeared. This invasive brilliant body pervaded the sky with its fiery tail. People called out their neighbors.

“Come! Come! I’ve never seen such a thing!”

“What is it? My God, what is it?”

“Someone should do something!”

“Who?”

“Well—the King!”

“Run and tell the King the sky is falling?”

“Somebody has to do something before that thing burns us to a crisp.”

Children who had just been enthralled with nature’s pyrotechniques began to worry and in their worry they began to cry. Mothers comforted them in their arms and cried in empathy. The men discussed the phenomena.

“I think it’s a falling star, but it’s closer than others.”

“What if it hits?”

“Then we won’t have to worry. We’ll be pushing up the daisies.”

“I think I’ll take my family to the church. A few prayers may help.”

“Good idea.” And many villagers watching over their shoulder made their way to the church.

Others claimed it was a sign from God. “It’s a good sign. It’s lighting our army’s way to a Christian war like the Star led the Kings to Bethlehem.” said the optimist.

“It’s an evil sign. Nothing good can come from this. Our priest said we would be destroyed by fire. Prepare to meet the Lord!” said the pessimist.

The priests made hay while the light shone and donations increased.

With the morning sun, the fiery visitor disappeared. But! Next evening!

“My God! It is still there!”

King Harold called his advisors. “This heavenly light has the populace frightened worse than a Norman invasion. What is it?”

Stigand anticipated the question and had already spoken to his most learned stargazer. “It is a natural phenomena, My Lord, called a cometa. It travels in the great beyond and the astrologers believe it signifies-or predicts- some great event. The astronomers believe the comet travels like the sun, the moon or the stars. We have nothing to fear as God is in his Heaven.”

“Well for God’s sake and my sake advise your clerics to calm the people! I want them to focus on a human invasion not retribution by an avenging angel.”

“Yes, Sire, immediately.”

For a week the streaking flaming star appeared in the English sky. What effect did it have on the Normans? Were they as upset as the Saxons? There was no immediate effect on the majority of either country. Except! April 26, one day after the comet’s departure, a warlike fleet was discovered off the Isle of Wight. Was it the reserve army of King Harold? Was it the mighty invasionary force of the Bastard of Normandy? The population of the tiny island had no defenses—a few thanes—a few villiens—and many serfs to repel an invasion. Hopefully it was the King’s reserves.

It wasn’t!

For a total surprise the adversarial force was Saxon. The King’s brother with his followers and mercenaries leapt from their longboats and waded ashore. The Isle of Wight was confused.

‘Who goes there? Friend or Foe?’

“Lord Tostig of York?”

“Yes.”

“Are you England’s reserve army?”

“I am England’s invading army!”

“My Lord, I do not understand. Welcome to our home.”

Both sides were vastly confused. Why was the King’s brother invading? When was the reserve army due? Why had Tostig landed on Wight? Where was Harold? Both sides were interrogative, but neither offered answers. Tostig was familiar with Wight. He expected the thanes of England to flock to his banner. Wasn’t he the favorite of King Edward the Confessor? A hasty meeting of thanes and invader was arranged. They met on the cliffs above the beach overlooking the Solent. The victorious invader sat on a large stone with his back to the water and the English mainland. Vaingloriously, he received the thanes of the Isle of Wight. Frightened, they bowed their way before the Lord of York under the watchful eyes of the personal house carls who had left England under the pressure of Harold of Wessex less than a year previously.

“Pardon me, My Lord Tostig, but why have you landed on our island with an army of mercenaries? Are you the reserve army of your brother the King?”

“No, you fool, my devious sibling deposed me, drove me out of York and replaced me with a wool-headed stripling, Morcar. Eventually, he usurped the Throne of England. King Edward the Confessor promised me the Throne. I was his companion, his son, and his friend, and that conniving bastard Harold destroyed my relationship.”

“We had no idea, My Lord. We were told to expect an encampment of five thousand troops and

accompanying vessels.”

“When?”

“May Day, Lord Tostig.”

“Why?”

“They were to be a reserve army.”

“But mobile army?”

“Yes, I suppose so, My Lord.”

“Lord Tostig, five thousand men will sadly outnumber your present forces. We could supply you with food and money and you could establish a beach head on the English mainland where you could call on the local fyrd to assist you . With our meager forces here and your invasionary army we could never hope to overcome the King’s men.”

“I will consider your proposal.”

The thanes of Wight withdrew. Obviously, Harold planned to hold his reserves on the Isle. A confrontation now would erase Tostig’s only chance of gaining the Throne or even York. His men encouraged him to take the money and run. His brother-in-law, the Duke of Boulogne’s son, finally convinced Tostig.

“Listen, Brother, Harold is four days away from a landing here. You can be certain he already had been informed of our presence. This whole island expected his army of reserve. His agents have long since sailed for Portsmouth or Chichester. He’s going to overwhelm us. The only hope we would have is to repel them on the beach, and you know he will come with his best.”

“You mean tuck tail and run like a whipped dog!”

“Yes, and live to fight another day!”

“I’m no coward!”

“Nor I, Tostig. I’m no fool either!”

Tostig stood, turned and gazed over the water. The Solent was calm and the English shoreline looked two stone throws away. So close! And yet so far! He could have used the Isle as a base until he had raised the English lords in his support. Damn Harold!

“Get the money! And the food!”

“Yes, My Lord. we are sailing?”

“Yes, you fool. See to the sea captains and our forces.”

“Yes, My Lord. We will sail for Flanders?”

“Yes.”

Tostig stared at his land of birth, his father’s estate. He expected to be received with open arms—the return of the prodigal native son. They would pay him off like some Viking beserker. Some thought him mad. He had had a plan to cross the narrow waterway and strike the heart of Wessex, Chichester the very home of his brother. Once he had turned Wessex , he had turned all of England. ‘Bad Luck!’ he thought. ‘Plagued by bad luck!’

Back to the beach he went, saddened and dispirited. Boulogne saw to the troops and vessels. The thanes were given one day to present their tribute. The food was easy as Harold had already sent stores for the army. The money was a little harder to extract, but Tostig’s demands were met. By April 28, the invasion fleet set sail plagued by southerly winds which kept them pinned on the south coast.

The signalmen and the fyrd already encamped behind the beaches were confused too. These weren’t Normans. At each landing poor misunderstood Tostig was rejected and with word that King Harold was on the march the rejection became repulsion and Tostig had to fight for water or food. The unrelenting wind pushed them past Dover, past the Thames, and into the North Sea. Keeping his fleet together, he came to landfall at the mouth of the Humber. Surely, his former liegemen would support him.

He met stiff resistance and he took vengeance with fire and murder. Edwin and Morcar raised the fyrd of Mercia and Northumbria, Englishmen defending their home. The mercenaries lost their desire before a determined defense. Tostig’s Saxons deserted, creeping away in the dead of night or claiming mercy before the thanes of the north. Tostig fought his way back to sea with a ragtag fleet and was forced ashore in Scotland under the banner of Macbeth’s successor. Was the bad fortune of the comet visited on Tostig?