“I myself,” said Queen Elizabeth to her troops at Tilbury, “will be your general and your judge, and the rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field.” If Queen Victoria has never either in statecraft or power attained the position held by that leonine woman, she did not fail to emulate her in her devotion to the gallant men who bled and died for England in the desolate Chersonese. The Queen’s visit to the hospital at Chatham, and her reception there by the soldiers, prompted her to take the unusual course of suggesting to Lord Clarendon, on the 22nd of March, that she should with her own hands present war medals to the officers and men who were at home disabled or on leave. On the 18th of May a Royal daïs was accordingly put up in the centre of the Horse Guards parade ground, with barriers enclosing from the crowd of spectators, a space for the heroes of the ceremony. At eleven o’clock the Queen, Prince Albert, and their family appeared, and at a signal the soldiers who were to be decorated stood before her. They passed along in single file, each handing a card recording his name and services to an officer, who delivered it to the Queen. She then presented each hero with his medal, saying a kindly word to every man as he went by. It was a strange and impressive spectacle. Gaunt, pallid forms, maimed and [Illustration: THE QUEEN DISTRIBUTING THE CRIMEAN MEDAL AT THE HORSEGUARDS PARADE GROUND.] mutilated, hobbled along on crutches--or staggered forward, aided by walking-sticks--and for officers and men alike the Queen had words of sympathy that drew tears from many an eye. From the highest Prince of the blood--the Duke of Cambridge was the first to step forward for his medal--to the humblest private, writes the Queen to King Leopold, “all received the same distinction for the bravest conduct in the severest actions, and the rough hands of the brave and honest private soldier came for the first time in contact with that of their Sovereign and their Queen. Noble fellows! I feel as if they were my own children; my heart beats for them as for my nearest and dearest.”[223] Captain Currie, of the 14th, was so feeble that he almost failed to reach the daïs on his crutches, and his condition profoundly touched the heart of the Queen. Captain Sayer, of the 23rd Fusiliers, could not be lifted out of his chair, so the Queen bent over him gracefully and pinned his medal to his breast, with a few words of comfort and hope. Colonel Sir T. Troubridge, of the 7th Fusiliers, who, when he had both his feet shot away at Inkermann, refused to leave his command till the battle was won, was also unable to leave his chair. When the Queen gave him his medal she whispered in his ear that she would reward his courage by making him one of her own aides-de-camp, whereupon he answered, “I am now amply repaid for everything.” It was a scene which moved the hearts of all who took part in it, with the exception, perhaps, of the brusque and