041 - Rio Grande C - (Patterson version)

The possible origin of the "Patterson" version from Hugill's book is possibly dated in the XVIII century.
In the sheet music from the Lester Levy Collection, “Nobody Ask’d You” is undated, but the music includes the notation at the top that it was “printed and sold at Carrs Music Store Baltimore.” Benjamin Carr (1760-1831) was a composer, organist, and music publisher who was born in London but came to the United States in 1793. He ran a number of stores, but his Baltimore store closed in 1822 and he left the publishing business entirely in 1831. Any music printed by him would have dated prior to 1831.

"Rio Grande" was always sung at the anchor capstan or windlass, and was an outward-bound song. This song will be singing as a capstan shanty.
"Shanties from the Seven Seas" by Stan Hugill (1st ed: p 92).


Rio Grande C - (Patterson version)

Oh, where are ye goin' to, my pretty maid?
   - Way for Rio!
I'm going a milkin', kind sir, she said.
   - An' we're bound for the Rio Grande,

   - Then away, bullies away!
   - Way for Rio!
   - Stead o' milkin' her cow, She wuz courtin' her boy
   - An' we're bound for the Rio Grande

                              *2*
Oh, have ye a sweatheart, my pretty maid?
'I'm lookin' for one, kind sir,' she said.

                              *3*
Then may I come wid ye, my pretty maid?
'Well, yes, since ye axed me, sir,' she said.

                              *4*
'But I guess yer a bad one, kind sir,' she said.
'Ye want for to love me, but yer dont't want ter wed,'

                              *5*
Jack took her in tow, an' away they did go,
The bulls did a grunt, an' the cows did a low.

                              *6*
They came to a haystack but the maid she wuz shy,
They backed and they filled an' heaved many a sigh.

                              *7*
The haystack capsized an' Jack got all bent,
With hay in his gaff-tops'l, his breeches all rent.

                              *8*
So he left her a-sittin' a-lookin' forlorn,
An' shipped ro the south'ard away round Cape Horn.

                              *9*
Now, all ye young sailors that round the Horn sail,
Don't take a young milkmaid away from her pail.

                              *10*
Or else ye'll regret it an' wish ye were dead,
So don't go a-courtin' in a haystack for a bed.