I recently read this piece whilst researching Burnaby, and it brings a tear to my eye, my research is amateur to say the least so I cannot support the truth of this with any weight (Fraxinius, where are you when we need you!), but thought it sheds a gentler and tragic light on the legend;
Original article here
Of course, modern celebrity is different. Burnaby did not suffer the indignity of the red carpet. No one dissected whether his body language demonstrated a spat with Gwyneth or Lindsay. But although tabloids in the 1880s were not searching for the first sign of a Burnaby beer belly, the man himself still had to live up to intolerably high expectations. He did not parade his decline like Pete Doherty, but fame nonetheless took a terrible toll. With telephoto lenses, we can catalogue Britney’s demise. Victorians could not see Burnaby’s, so they continued to expect the impossible. As he entered middle age, Burnaby increasingly struggled to keep up with his dashing image.
Eventually, the weight of expectation became too much. Resolving not to die old, Burnaby set out on one last mission. Ignoring orders, he joined the attempt to rescue Gordon from Khartoum. On leaving, he wrote to his footman: “I am very unhappy and I can’t imagine why you care about life. I do not mean to come back.” Sure enough, during an ambush by Sudanese warriors, he pushed through his ranks and rode out alone, determined to meet the public expectation of heroic death. So ended the life of a Victorian icon
