His name was Marshal Haynau.
He from his country had to run:
He loved the knife, the cat, the gun,
And cruel deeds of late was done
By this old Marshal Haynau.
From Barclay’s brew-house he did scout;
The women bawled, the men did shout;
His hat fell off, and his shirt hung out,
Oh, poor old Marshal Haynau!