In order to procure the bare necessaries of life he was obliged to resort to the sword which he was no longer permitted to use in the service of his country, and was reduced to taking part in public fencing competitions. In default of glory on the field of battle, he attained, at all events, real fame in the schools. He had as adversaries the best fencers in England, the Chevalier St. George himself, and beat them all on more than one occasion. D’Eon was far from being a novice in the art, having distinguished himself therein as far back as the year 1750, when he was a young advocate, and was writing learned historical treatises and essays on political economy, in order to attract notice. His adventurous life and his military career had led him to develop the science of fencing, and consequently his already advanced age did not prevent his justifying a reputation which his adopted sex rendered piquant and unusual. Although d’Eon generally wore his old uniform of the dragoons when fencing in public, yet at several matches he appeared in a semi-feminine costume. In this odd accoutrement he took part, in September 1793, in a tournament at which the Prince of Wales presided in person; he gained a brilliant victory over an English officer. Some prints, which are now much sought after, perpetuated the memory of this curious match. So profitable did he find these exhibitions of his rare skill that he resolved to undertake a series of tours in the provinces. The English papers report his victories at Dover, Canterbury and Oxford. In the course of one of these journeys there occurred, at Southampton, on August 26, 1796, the unlucky accident which brought a sudden end to the fencing-matches in which the Chevalière d’Eon still distinguished herself at the age of sixty-nine. Her adversary’s foil broke off, wounding her severely. D’Eon published in the papers the certificate of the physicians who attended him, together with an address in which, after thanking the public for the interest they had taken in him, he declared with bitterness that henceforth he would be reduced “to cut his bread with his sword.” His wound kept him confined to his bed for four months. As soon as he could be moved, he was taken back to London, where he had still to go through a long convalescence. An old English lady, Mrs. Mary Cole, a friend of his, received him into her house, and tended him to the end of his life with the most touching devotion. D’Eon’s sensational career was now at an end, and his life terminated in the quietest way possible. He himself remarks, with a touch of melancholy: “My life is spent in eating, drinking, and sleeping; praying, writing, and working with Mrs. Cole, repairing linen, gowns, and headdresses.”