It was Hanky the squire as I've heard men say Who rode out a-hunting on one saturday They hunted all day but nothing they found But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground
About eight o'clock, boys, our dogs they throve off On Leatherhead Common and that was the spot They tried all the bushes but nothing they found But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground
They whipped their dogs off and they kept them away Cried "We think it is proper that she should have fair play" They tried all the bushes but nothing they found But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground
They mounted their horses and they rode off the ground They rode to the village and alarmed it all around "It is late in the evening, I'm sorry to say She cannot be removed until the next day"
The next sunday morning about eight o'clock Some hundreds of people to the spot they did flock For to see the poor creature, your hearts would have bled Some cold-hearted violents came into their heads
She was took off the Common and down to some inn And the man that has kept it, his name is John Simms The coroner was sent for, the jury they joined And soon they concluded and they settled their mind
The coffin was brought, in it she was laid And took to the churchyard of this court Leatherhead No father nor mother nor no friend I'm told Came to see the poor creature laid under the lawn
So now I conclude and I'll finish my song And those that have tarried shall find themselves wrong To the last day of judgement a trumpet shall sound And this soul's not in heaven, I'm afraid, when being found