When archaeologists first dug up a man who had been buried with his horse in Lakenheath, Suffolk- on what was then a USAF base- all they could say with certainty was that he was a warrior. Now we know he came very early in the Anglo-Saxon time-line but was born locally, that he was related to a number of the people buried near him and that his was almost certainly the foundation burial about which three cemeteries grew. Also they've reconstructed his horse's bridle; it was a fancy piece of work with dangly bits.
As it happens he features in a poem I wrote after watching Julian's original show. He's an old friend and it's good to know him better.
Under Number One Baseball field
The Saxons slumber. Sand devours
But chalk preserves their skeletons.
Next to the archer lie his bow
With six sharp arrows in a quiver.
Fear him, grievous underworld creatures!
Fear the knight with sword and shield
And bridled war-horse laid beside him!
Graves of children cluster round him,
Once and always their defender...
Tock- a baseball sails the sky
That's scored with wakes of flying ships,
And rolls to rest beneath the poplars.