Part 2 — Ludlow the Regicide to the Calves-Head Club.

Most diabolical Sons of Darkness,

OF all the villainies perpetrated upon earth, that the greatest rebel could be proud of, or Lucifer blush at, I myself hid so large a share in, that the devil for my hearty sincerity, and trusty management therein, gives me the right-hand, dignify’d and distinguish’d me with the superb title of his elder brother: no man ever gloried more in wickedness than myself, and that which now makes my punishment a pleasure, is to think how nobly I deserved it. Many I know are the treasonable plots and contrivances transacted in the upper world, but never was any magnificent piece of wickedness, or superlative deed of devilism, ever performed with more ostentation and alacrity, than that most impious and audacious act, in which I was so highly concerned, and that the very monarch of hell might have been proud to have had a hand in; to fire churches, commit sacrilege, ravish virgins, murder infants, or spit in the faces of our parents, are trifling sins that a man of my figure in iniquity would be asham’d to be caught in; but to murder the best of princes, and glory in the deed, is such an infernal evil that hell can’t blacken, or earth can’t parallel; a sacred piece of villany becoming only the treachery of a puritan to execute, and the pen and principles of a Tutchin to endeavour to justify.

Lucifer and all his kingdom of hob-gobblins, drink a health to your society every thirtieth of January, in burnt brandy, and are well assur’d the interest of these infernal territories can never sink, as long as there is a Calves-Head Club upon earth, to glory in the remembrance of the worst of villianies; and a whiggish society of reformation, for the better establishment of hypocrisy. We, who had the honour to be his majesty’s judges, or rather as some call us, Regicides, are all mess’d together in an apartment by ourselves, and the murderers of Henry III. and Henry IV. of France are appointed to attend us at our table; and Felton that stabb’d the duke of Buckingham, is our lacquey to run of errands.

In all Lucifer’s extensive dominions, there is not one society so much respected as ourselves, and the greatest villains that ever were upon earth, are by the devil, when they come here, scarce thought wicked enough to wait upon us in the most servile station; the very jesuits themselves known by all the world to value royal blood no more than a Jew does a hog’s-pudding, are not suffer’d to walk within an hundred yards of us; nay, the very dissenting shepherds of that rebellious flock, who always follow’d me as their only bell-weather, are not here thought worthy of our conversation, only now and then a member of our sanctify’d society the Calves-Head Club, drops headlong in among us, and Old Nic indeed appoints them to grind mustard and scrape horse radish for us his well-beloved brethren the Regicides; for you must know ’tis the custom in this sweating climate, for people to deal much in very hot sauces, and that most delicate palate-scorching soop called pepper-pot, a kind of devil’s broth much eat in the West-Indies, is always the first dish brought to our table.

All hell applauds you mightily for your zeal and integrity for the good old cause, and your cordial approbation of the great effects thereof, which you annually show upon every thirtieth of January that derisionary festival, which you keep like the bold sons of confusion, that the true spirit of rebellion may never die, and the dreadful consequences of a damnable reformation may never be forgotten, in which most notable, audacious and courageous piece of insolence, you not only declare yourselves the brave defenders of all king-killing principles, but plainly discover your undaunted souls are ready upon all occasions of the like nature, to solemnly engage in the most startling mischief that hell’s most politick Divan are willing to contrive, or a body of the most resolute infidels in the universe able to perpetrate? this do I speak to your eternal reputation, that Lucifer and all his sable legions have publickly acknowledged their pride and malice, are much out-done by your private assembly, and the expertest devils among all the infernal host, turn pale with envy, and degenerate from their blackness to see their impudence outbrazen’d by a club of mortal puritans? so that I would advise you as a friend, when death, by virtue of his uncontroulable Habeas Corpus, shall remove you to these dusky confines, you will put on a little modesty, tho’ you play the hypocrite, least if you behave yourselves here as you do in the upper world, you shall dash the devil out of countenance.

So farewel.