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. He offered me at once an engagement. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. Ireton rushed forward to open the wicket for him. It is positively hateful to think of it. " There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters.
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