A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart. It was horrible, but she must do it. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. That wasn’t even the worst thing. And it's uncanny. “A confusion of motives—that’s what I am!.
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