‘We may see how, step by step, inch by inch, dealing blow for blow even in falling back, Northman and Scot and Fleming give way before the irresistible charge of the renowned Thingmen. We may see the golden dragon, the ensign of Cuthred and Ælfred, glitter on high over this its latest field of triumph. We may hear the shouts of “Holy Rood” and “God Almighty” sound for the last time as an English host pressed on to victory. We may see two kingly forms towering high over either host.... We may see the banished Englishman [Tostig] defiant to the last, striking the last blow against the land which had reared him, and the brother who had striven to save him from his doom.... There Harold of Norway, the last of the ancient sea-kings, yielded up that fiery soul which had braved death in so many forms and in so many lands.’ The bridge of to-day is shown in the accompanying illustration, the site of its early predecessor being in the foreground of the picture, a fact plainly demonstrated by the roads on each side of the river pointing to this spot. There is a fair-sized village of low red-brick houses looking on to a green, with one side open to the river, and a water-mill, built on a natural rock foundation, rises to a great height by the weir. A sundial over the doorway is dated 1764, which is probably the year when the present mill was put up. Stamford Bridge being, as already mentioned, the most probable site of the Roman _Derventio_, it was natural that some village should have grown up at such an important crossing of the river. An unfrequented road through a belt of picturesque woodland goes from Stamford Bridge past Sand Hutton to the highway from York to Malton. If we take the branch-road to Flaxton, we soon see, over the distant trees, the lofty towers of Sheriff Hutton Castle, and before long reach a silent village standing near the imposing ruins. The great rectangular space, enclosed by huge corner-towers and half-destroyed curtain walls, is now utilized as the stackyard of a farm, and the effect as we approach by a footpath is most remarkable. It seems scarcely possible that this is the castle Leland described with so much enthusiasm. ‘I saw no House in the North so like a Princely Logginges,’ he says, and also describes ‘the stately Staire up to the Haul’ as being very magnificent; ‘and so,’ he continues, ‘is the Haul it self, and al the residew of the House.’ At the south-western angle is a tower in a fair state of preservation, whose lowest story is now used for cattle, the floor being deep in straw, and elsewhere farming implements are stored under the shattered walls that threaten to fall at any time.