A weird and ghostly flavour was imparted to the place by its being chosen as headquarters by the roistering crew of the eighteenth century who called themselves "The Hell-Fire Club", and professed to worship Satan. The leader of the revellers was Sir Francis Dashwood, who succeeded his uncle in the title of Baron le Despencer in 1763. The club motto was _Fay ce que voudras_, and each member tried to outdo the rest in eccentricity. Though they gloried in their wild doings and set afloat many tales which made quieter folk catch their breath in horror, it is probable that, apart from open blasphemy, their proceedings were more foolish than horrible. Once, as a joke, someone sent an ape down the chimney while they were gathered together, and the frightened gibbering creature, soot-begrimed, was mistaken by the terror-stricken revellers for Satan himself. Not far off is the old Abbey Hotel, beloved of artists, and farther on up the green lane is a curious old house which once belonged to Sir John Borlase, friend of King Charles II, who was visited here by His Majesty on horseback, often accompanied, so tradition goes, by Nelly Gwynne. Henley, of course, boasts the regatta of the Thames; other regattas there are in plenty, but none can compare with Henley in importance. Its heats are telegraphed abroad, and as a sporting event it ranks only second to the boat race. The regatta is held the first week in July. The course is lined by booms, within the shelter of which every variety of craft is seen wedged together so tightly as to make upsetting a sheer impossibility. Punts worked with canoe paddles are perhaps the most popular, but skiffs and frail Canadian canoes, as well as the solid hired craft of the boat builders may be seen. Gondolas regularly make their appearance, and seem to vanish in between from year to year. It used to be fashionable to wear simple muslins and straws at Henley, but year by year fashion has screwed up things to a higher pitch, until nowadays gowns which, in their elaborate affectation of simplicity, would not disgrace Ascot itself, are to be seen everywhere, especially on the lawns of the clubs which run down to the water behind the waiting craft. The scene is a gay one, and for days before every available room is taken, every available boat hired. The Red Lion--and Henley would hardly be Henley without the Red Lion--could be filled several times over. It was of this inn Shenstone wrote:-- Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round, Whate'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.