Two years later, the London Fairs were visited by a couple of dwarfs, almost as famous in their day as Tom Thumb and his Lilliputian bride in our own. These were Thomas Allen, described in the bill of the show as “the most surprising small man ever before the public,” and who had previously been exhibited at the Lyceum, where he was visited by the Duke of York and the Duke of Clarence; and, again to quote the bill, which seems to have been based on the announcements of the Corsican Fairy, some of the passages being identical,—
“Miss Morgan, the Celebrated Windsor Fairy, known in London and Windsor by the Addition of LADY MORGAN, a Title which His Majesty was pleased to confer on her.
“This unparallelled Woman is in the 35th year of her age, and only 18 pounds weight. Her form affords a pleasing surprise, and her admirable symmetry engages attention. She was introduced to their Majesties at the Queen’s Lodge, Windsor, on Saturday the 4th of August, 1781, by the recommendation of the late Dr. Hunter; when they were pleased to pronounce her the finest Display of Human Nature in miniature they ever saw.—But we shall say no more of these great Wonders of Nature: let those who honour them with their visits, judge for themselves.
“Let others boast of stature, or of birth,
This glorious Truth shall fill our souls with mirth.
‘That we now are, and hope, for years, to sing,
The Smallest subject of the Greatest King!’
“☞ Admittance to Ladies and Gentlemen, 1s. Children, Half Price.
“⁂ In this and many other parts of the Kingdom, it is too common to show deformed persons, with various arts and deceptions, under denominations of persons in miniature, to impose on the public.
“This little couple are, beyond contradiction, the most wonderful display of nature ever held out to the admiration of mankind.
“N.B. The above Lady’s mother is with her, and will attend at any Lady or Gentleman’s house, if required.”
Flockton died in 1794, at Peckham, where he had lived for several years in comfort and respectability, having realised what was then regarded as a considerable fortune. He had attended the London Fairs, and many of the chief provincial ones, for many years, retiring to his cottage at Peckham in the winter. His representation of Punch was not only superior in every way to that of the open air puppet shows, but famous for the introduction of a struggle between the mimic representative of the Prince of Darkness and a fine Newfoundland dog, in which the canine combatant seized the enemy by the nose, and finally carried him off the stage.
Flockton had no children, and probably no other relatives, for he bequeathed his show, with all the properties pertaining to it, to Gyngell, a clever performer of tricks of sleight of hand, and a widow named Flint, both of whom had travelled with it for several years; and between these two persons and other members of his company he divided the whole of his accumulated gains, amounting to five thousand pounds. His successors were announced next Bartholomew Fair as “the Widow Flint and Gyngell, at Flockton’s original Theatre, up the Greyhound Yard.” Gyngell exhibited his conjuring tricks, and performed on the musical glasses; and his wife sang between this part of the entertainment and the exhibition of the fantoccini and Flockton’s celebrated clock, which seems either to have been over-puffed by its original exhibitor, or to have fallen out of repair, for it was now said to contain five hundred figures, instead of the nine hundred originally claimed for it. Perhaps, however, the larger number was a misprint.