Poor Murdered Woman

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 was
Our dogs they throwed up
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 kept them away
For I don't think it proper
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's 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
To see that poor creature
Your hearts would have bled
Some cold and some violence
Came into their heads
She was took off the common
And down to some mill
And the man that has kept it
His name is John Sills
The coroner was sent for
The jury they joined
And soon they concluded
And settled their mind
Her coffin was bought
In it she was laid
And took to the churchyard
That is called Leatherhead
No father, no mother
Nor no friend I'm told
Came to see the poor creature
Laid under the mould
So now I'll conclude
And I'll finish my song
That those that have done it
Shall find themselves wronged
For the last day of judgement
The trumpet shall sound
And if soul's not in heaven
I'm afraid won't be found