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. Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion. And Mother trusted him. "Because it's not like you," was her answer. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. That wasn’t even the worst thing. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly.
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