“This thus ended, I retired to my surgeon, in whose arms after I had remained awhile, for want of blood I lost my sight, and withal, as I then thought, my life also; but strong water and his diligence, quickly recovered me; when I escaped a great danger, for my Lord’s surgeon, when nobody dreamt of it, came full at me with my Lord’s sword; and had not mine, with my sword, interposed himself, I had been slain by those base hands, although my Lord Bruce, weltering in his blood, and past all expectation of life, conformable to all his former carriage, which was undoubtedly noble, cried out ‘Rascal, hold thy hand!’ So may I prosper, as I have dealt sincerely with you in this relation, which I pray you, with the inclosed letters, deliver to my Lord Chamberlain.
It does not appear that this fatal and barbarous affair led to any proceedings against the Earl of Dorset, nor did it diminish his favour at court.
After the desperate and fatal duel between Duke Hamilton and Lord Mohun, a bill was brought into the House of Commons for the prevention of duelling, but was lost after a second reading. The following is the account that Swift gives of this meeting, in his letter to Mrs. Dingley, but it must be borne in mind that political animosities, which ran very high at this period, gave a peculiar acrimonious character to the transaction, the causes of which have never been satisfactorily explained:—
“Before this comes to your hands, you will have heard of the most terrible accident that hath almost ever happened. This morning, at eight, my man brought me word that Duke Hamilton had fought with Lord Mohun, and had killed him, and was brought home wounded. I immediately sent him to the Duke’s house to know if it was so, but the porter could hardly answer his inquiries, and a great rabble was about the house. In short, they fought at seven this morning. The dog Mohun was killed on the spot, but while the Duke was over him, Mohun shortened his sword, and stabbed him in the shoulder to the heart. The Duke was helped toward the lake-house, by the ring, in Hyde-park (where they fought), and died on the grass, before he could reach his house, and was brought home in his coach by eight, while the poor Duchess was asleep. M’Carthy and one Hamilton were the seconds, who fought likewise, and both are fled. I am told that a footman of Lord Mohun’s stabbed Duke Hamilton, and some say M’Carthy did so too. Mohun gave the affront, and yet sent the challenge. I am infinitely concerned for the poor Duke, who was a frank, honest, and good natured man. They carried the poor Duchess to a lodging in the neighbourhood, where I have been with her two hours, and am just come away. I never saw so melancholy a scene, for indeed all reasons for real grief belong to her; nor is it possible for any one to be a greater loser in all regards—she has moved my very soul. The lodging was inconvenient, and they would have moved her to another, but I would not suffer it, because it had no room backwards, and she must have been tortured with the noise of the Grub-street screamers dinging her husband’s murder in her ears.”