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. ‘In fact you admitted only that you had no more weapons. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild. You cannot refuse me this. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all.
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