In other respects, however, the relations of the Court to the war were less open to criticism. It has already been stated how her Majesty toiled with her own hands to aid those who were striving to mitigate the sufferings of the army during the Crimean winter. She wrote a letter to the Commander-in-Chief on the subject that touched the heart of every soldier in camp or hospital. Mr. Augustus Stafford, in the debate on Mr. Roebuck’s motion in the House of Commons (26th of January), thrilled his audience by telling them how he saw a wounded man, after hearing the letter read, propose the Queen’s health in a draught of bark and quinine. Mr. Stafford said to him it was a bitter cup for a loyal toast; to which the man replied, with a smile, “Yes, and but for these words of the Queen I could not have got it down.” Nor was her Majesty less assiduous in her attention to the wounded, when their haggard and mournful contingents began to return. On the 3rd of March she went down to Chatham with her husband and her two eldest sons to inspect the Military Hospital at Fort Pitt and Brompton. The wounded men who could crawl from their beds were drawn up on the lawn, each bearing a card with a description of his name, services, and wounds. Along this gaunt array the Queen passed, sad-eyed and thoughtful, speaking a few kind and cheering words to the sufferers whose wounds or services especially attracted her notice. Contemporary reports of course stated that the Sovereign was well pleased with the manner in which those poor men were treated. But two days afterwards she sent a sharp letter to Lord Panmure, which showed that she had been using her eyes to good purpose during her inspection. He must, she says, have some really serviceable military hospitals built for the sick without delay. The poor men at Fort Pitt were well treated; but, she complains, “the buildings are bad--the wards more like prisons than hospitals, with the windows so high that no one can look out of them--and the most of the wards are small, with hardly space to walk between the beds.” Her criticisms on the dining arrangements are trenchant; and then she goes on to argue that though Lord Panmure’s plan of building hulks may do very well at first, it will not do for any length of time. “A hulk,” she contends, “is a very gloomy place, and these poor men require their spirits to be cheered, as much as to have their physical sufferings attended to. The Queen is particularly anxious on this subject, which is, she may truly say, constantly in her thoughts, as, indeed, is everything connected with her beloved troops, who have fought so bravely and borne so heroically all their sufferings and privations.”[222]