A Slight Biography of The Early Years of Sir Jackie Groan
'Pon a winter's day in Finfan in the high summer of 1736, the still youthful Jackie attended a recitation of primitive Banffshire folk dance music given by a quartet of enthusiastic, if not expert, musicians who called themselves The Rock-Men. Their leader and mentor was one Rhon Rhynie, a former shoe-black from Limer Shanks who had devoted himself to exploring the ancient musical forms of the Mearns. He had found the urchin, Stuart Bladdo, in the street one day, playing a merry air on a mountain dulcimer; without hesitation, Rhynie had offered him a place in his performing troupe. Jackie too had a keen interest in past musical styles and the rustic scenery of Banffshire and immediately recognised a kindred spirit in Rhynie. As the performance wore on, our Jackie began to question the overall sound quality of the Rock-men, noticing that their rounds were delivered with a tinny shrieking noise that emanated from their instruments; a tenor lyre, sackbutt, tambour, portable spinette and tin squeaker. In Jackie's opinion, there was a lack of low end timbres to balance out the tones. At an opportune moment, when there was a lull in the delivery, up steps our intrepid balladeer and shouts to Rhynie, "Why Sir! Your choice of material is without fault, yet the delivery lacks a certain fulness. Pray, allow me to accompany your next air with my bass lute and judge for yourself whether the effort is vindicated."
"Stand back, fool!" Retorted Rhynie with a sneer, never thinking that there could be anyone else in Angus with ears as finely tuned as his. Undaunted, Jackie pressed his case. "Pray allow me to butress your delivery with the low, sonorous cadence of my Bass Lute, I am well practs'd in working it to great effect. Why, last week, my mother exclaimed that it reminded her of an Dalrulzian idyll. If you agree to my insertions, I will not disappoint, you may be assur'd of it." Rhynie, recognising that the supplicant would not be gainsaid, and wearying of the toilsome exchanges, reluctantly relented and bid Jackie take the stage. Their next song, 'Mill of Colp' thundered out with the sound of Jackie's lute picking out a delicate, syncopated figurine that he had stolen from Fraser; yet the effect was splendid and Rhynie recognised that the sound had been greatly improved.
In no time at all Jackie had been inculcated into the ranks of the Rock-Men but quickly sought to mould them to his own perceptions, firstly, by insisting that the troupe change their name, since there existed another band of minstrels from Fife called the Tumbling Rocks and it would be confusing to retain such a similar name. He proposed that they should call themselves 'The Goits' after a peculiar medical condition contracted by some Muirfolk that caused a tuberous swelling or eruption on the neck of the victim. This was acceded to but with the insertion of 'Black' before the word 'Goits', since, as Rhynie maintained, "We need something to let the people know that we mean it; we're not just entertainers, we're Artists and Philosophers and we need to tell the truth. A Goit is not a Goit unless it be black, for that is the truth of it." "Going Literal' was just one of the skewed concepts that Rhynie would introduce to his fellow minstrels.
Soon, their fame increased and they were playing to large audiences throughout the Mearns, but ineluctably, young Jackie insisted on another change, or two. The Black Goits Tambour player, an intemperate scoundrel called Murchieson, was not adept on his chosen instrument and could barely keep tempo in the tunes. But he was tolerated since it was convenient to allow him in the group. His mother kept a boarding house in Tippermallow that boasted a large chamber where the Black Goits rehearsed their famous routine at no expense to their purse. Nevertheless, Jackie wanted him out and had already identified his replacement, one Archie Liff, a sticksman of great renown that was presently engaged with a rival troupe who were touring the gambling dens of Angus.
Well, an opportunity now presented itself, which was to have a profound effect on the fortunes of the minstrels. Billy Quirn, an impresario from Darfash, impressed with the vigour and gusto of their performances, offer'd 'em a contract to play in the harbour drinking dens of Oostende, a port on the Hollandish shores. Their fee would be great and the work hard, but it afforded them a chance for sport, ribaldry and to broaden their parochial horizons. Before sailing off from Draffin, and when all arrangements had been made, Jackie took it upon himself to expel Murchison from their midst, telling him on the quayside, "You're a nowhere man, I'm going to be famous and rich, you are destined for obscurity. Stay not on the order of thy departure, but go!" Archie Liff stood laughing in the wings, his bags packed, ready for the tour.
When in Oostende, the group embarked on a trail of debauchery, licentiousness and degradation. When not actually performing, they would go a whoring, drinking and gambling; in short, they engaged upon every depraved activity known to man which left their frames racked with disease. Conversely, their stage act became sharper and more exciting. Soon they were the talk of Oostende's chattering classes and a certain group of young arrivistes known as 'The Snabs' began to associate with them most earnestly and influenced their manners & customs. For instance, they sported a curious style of coiffure for their hair, having it brushed forward rather than back, then queuing the fringe with lard to hold it in place; they also sported narrow toed boots, tight breeks and collarless jackets - all of which was quickly incorporated into the Goits style.
It was here that they lost one of their number, but for Jackie Groan, it was no loss at all. Colin Cleuch, the sackbuttist, was not an accomplished musician or performer and he knew it, often turning his back to the audience in order to mask the clumsy fumbling of his fingers. He fell in with a trull from The Snabs set and the pair soon began erecting odd sculptures of themselves in public places. The matter came to head when Cleuch announced his distaste for the current arrangements and his imminent departure. Groan was pleased, for he reckoned Cleuch to be his main adversary in the Black Goits. He was, clever, handsome, articulate and, in every way, Jackie's superior. Rhynie took a different view and a fierce argument ensued which ended in physical violence when Rhynie knocked Cleuch to the ground and swung his chisel-toed boot repeatedly at his temple. Then, the port authorities, discovered that Stuart Bladdo, being only fourteen years old, was a minor and therefore could not be permitted to work; he was ordered to leave immediately and so the Black Goits returned to Memus and their home town of Limer Shanks.
Very quickly, they had secured a resident stand in a theatre hewn out of solid stone, far underground, called The Dungeon. Night after night, crowds of the young and feckless, disported themselves in hedonistic ecstasy at these gatherings. They were packed in tightly, the cave walls dripping with moisture, the Black Goits taking the art form to greater heights. Here, Jackie perfected his unique vocal delivery, modelled after the itinerant Aberdeenshire bard, Little Ythsie, a high, warbling falsetto that borders on a scream; it drove crowds wild. Also, Groan had perfected a little trick of shaking his head from side to side at intervals during the performance which elicited many a shriek from impressionable young fillies.
Now, onto the scene, stepped a figure that would exert a monumental influence and lead the Goits to international fame; he would make their name legend throughout the Mearns - his name was Brian Balfarg. Born into a family of Dundee Lascars that had obtained their fortune through quackery, Brian had been brought up as a female until, at the age of thirteen, he discovered that he wasn't like other girls. His love of pretty clothes and high drama never left him, however, and by the age of twenty six, he was accumulating much coin by selling bottles of his 'Universal Panacea'. He had opened a shop selling phlogiston cartridges in Limer Shanks High Street and had his curiosity aroused by several customers who came to his emporium asking for cartridges by The Black Goits. "I must see these Goits." He thought, and the next evening, betook himself to the hot dampness of the Dungeon.
Though the music was not to his taste, he could not help but notice two things; firstly the frenzied actions of the young Goit disciples in the audience, especially the female members, secondly the unbelievable tightness of Rhynie's trousers. He followed them backstage after their first set and cornered Rhynie, telling him that they were destined for greatness only if he, Brian Balfarg, could be their agent. With much soothing, coaxing and flattery, Balfarg's unctuous pleading achieved success and Rhynie was persuaded to sign a legal agreement allowing Balfarg to effectively dictate his life. Groan remained suspicious and never signed; some say there was jealousy of Balfarg, that he had come between Jackie and Rhon. The matter was soon rendered of no consequence as some months later, Balfarg died after drinking some of his own 'elixir' and the story of Jackie Groan and The Black Goits moved on to another chapter.
