The Henson Journals

[203]

Thursday, March 21st, 1918.

1326th day

I wrote letters, & had interviews all the morning, save for a short visit to the Palace garden, where I counted no less than 15 rooks' nest [sic], distributed on three trees. After lunch we (i.e. Ella, Norcock, & I) motored to Ledbury, where I confirmed 107 persons in the very fine parish church. The candidates came from 10 parishes, & the incumbents were present. After the service we had tea in the Vicarage, & met divers of the people. Among others, Lord Biddulph was there. He had been in America with the Prince of Wales in the sixties. We enjoyed the motor–drive through a very beautiful county, shown to advantage by the glorious weather. It is indeed hard to believe in the reality of a shortage when one sees the fields everywhere filled with cattle & sheep. I called at the Bank, & explained to the Manager that I should require an advance of about £1000 to cover my initial expenses.

Scott–Holland's death vacates another important piece of Crown preferment – the Regius Professorship of Theology in Oxford, & the Deanery of Durham. I suppose Arthur Headlam will have one or other, probably the Deanery. It is very significant to those who know the inner life of the Church of England that the High Church faction should be pouring out superlatives of laudation on Scott–Holland, whose career was certainly gravely marred, & whose professioriate at Oxford was admittedly a failure. But they have an eye on the new appointment, & wish to impress the Prime Minister with the belief that anyone but one of themselves would be mortally resented!

[204] [symbol]

To the Bishop of Birmingham.

March 22nd 1918

My dear Bishop,

Thank you much for your letter, wh. is not only right, but also (I am convinced) highly politic in the best sense. It lies with the Bishops to transform "these sporadic efforts" into something better, & some day I shall seek conference with you on that matter. So far, beyond the really baffling difficulty of getting about the diocese, everything is couleur de rose: & I get the impression more strongly every day that the hue & cry against me was just a piece of E.C.U. bluff.

Yours ever,

H. H. Hereford

---