Route to the Blues

One of those good warm-up songs Cliff will sing occasionally.  Other sources call it “Route Of The Blues” which is probably more correct.  Mudcat.org has some interesting data, as posted by a “Pete M”…

“The Royal Horse Guards (the Blues) trace their origins to a force raised by Cromwell.  The Regiment was especially favoured by King George IV and it is presumably from this period that the song originates.  With the appointment of the Duke of Wellington as its Colonel, the regiment was elevated to the status of Household Cavalry in 1820.  The Blues were merged with the Royal Dragoons (The Royals) in 1969 to form the Blues and Royals.

Salisbury was, and is, one of the main Army training areas, particularly for mounted regiments.

The title illustrates an interesting example of two English words which now have the same spelling but completely different meanings and origins. Rout meaning disorganised flight etc., comes from ME from OF route. Rout as in this song, meaning muster, or fetch out of hiding, derives from root from OE rõt.”

 

As I crossed over Salisbury Plain,
‘Twas a dainty fine sight I behold,
All the lasses were crying and tearing their hair,
Oh the rout has just come for the Blues.  The rout has just come for the Blues.

Then each one home to their mothers do run,
Saying, “My heart is undone, it is true,
I’ll pack up my clothes without more delay
And boldly I’ll march with the Blues.”  And boldly I’ll march with the Blues.

The landlord and landlady walks hand in hand,
And so do they pretty girls too,
And each one pours out a bottle of gin
To drink a good health to the Blues.   To drink a good health to the Blues.

Our ship she is rigged and we all set sail,
And sweetly the French horns play too
And each one sets up a loud huzzah,
“Success to King George and his Blues.”   Success to King George and his Blues.

They’re as gallant young fellows as ever you’ll see,
Though you search bonny Britain all through.
When dressed in His Majesty’s suit you’ll agree
There’s none can compare with the Blues.   There’s none can compare with the Blues.

As I crossed over Salisbury Plain,
‘Twas a dainty fine sight I behold,
All the lasses were crying and tearing their hair,
Oh the rout has just come for the Blues.  The rout has just come for the Blues.

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