I was a down-on-his luck nobleman in France. My family's fortune had dwindled but our name was still highly regarded. I remember thinking what an important and impressive man my father was and always feeling a little weighed down by the fact. The family name was all we had and I lived my life (and, indeed, ended it) trying to uphold our honour. In the grand scheme of things my father wasn't important at all, barely known outside of our town! When I recalled his name I was so excited to look for him online. Surely he'd been recorded in history! He was so powerful! Absolutely nothing. Either I've made him up or, or he was just a man, important in the eyes of his son, nothing more.
I think I may have also been the daughter of a vicar in the 1850s, again, important and well-known in our village, but no further than ten miles away!
That's as well-known as I think I've ever been and I'm glad of it! Much easier to explain to other people and to myself! I confess, I'm always a little skeptical of famous incarnations... I'm sure someone must have been Cleopatra, but not the thousands who claim they were. Still, each to their own!