The case was talked of for months before it came to trial, and all the newspapers had their comments to make, facetiously writing of “Mrs. Norton and her Lamb.” On the whole, however, they preached the innocence of the Premier; even the Age, ultra-Tory and scandalous as it was, honestly said that it believed him to be wrongly accused; though, later, that paper was anything but kind to him. It was the 22nd of June, 1836, when Justice Tindal sat in the Court of Common Pleas to decide upon the moral conduct of Viscount Melbourne and the Hon. Mrs. Norton, and also to decide whether it would be just to award Mr. Norton damages to the value of £10,000. Sir William Follett led for the plaintiff, and unwisely admitted that he had not advised his going to trial, adding, however, that he certainly expected to secure a verdict. However, he managed to ask of his client a most unfortunate question, whether it was true that Mr. Norton had ever walked with his wife to Lord Melbourne’s house and left her there. Upon Norton admitting that he had done so, Follett replied that that was the end of the case. The only witnesses were servants, mostly of damaged character, discarded from the Norton household, some of them several years earlier. These had been nursed for some time quietly at Lord Grantley’s country seat, yet in spite of their kindly treatment none of them could swear to any occurrences which had taken place within the preceding three years. At the close of the plaintiff’s case the jury refused an adjournment, so the judge analysed the evidence, and a verdict of acquittal was returned, drawing loud cheers from the onlookers, which were echoed by those waiting outside the Court. The news was carried immediately to the House of Commons, where it was received with acclamation; and King William cordially congratulated his Minister the next day on having “baffled the machinations which he did not doubt had their origin in sinister aims fomented by the meaner animosities of party.” Other congratulations poured in from every quarter, and the paragraphist made his harvest out of the case, one comment running:—
“This Crim. con. case, complex and ram-
ified since it commenced,
Prove that meek Melbourne’s still a Lamb,
The fair one sinn’d against.”
Lord Wynford, uncle to George Norton, noted as one of the violent Tories, and the Duke of Cumberland were openly spoken of as the foster-fathers of this charge, but when it failed both men assured Melbourne on their honour that they knew nothing about it. Lord Wynford said that he had not heard of the case until four days after it was commenced, and had not seen “that unfortunate young man” (Norton) for two or three years. The impression, however, remained that the case had its origin in political scheming, and Greville (a Tory himself) certainly believed this, for on the 27th of June he wrote:—
“Great exultation at the verdict on the part of his (Melbourne’s) political adherents, great disappointment on that of the mob of low Tories, and a creditable satisfaction among the better sort; it was a triumphal acquittal. The wonder is how with such a case Norton’s family ventured into Court, but (although it is stoutly denied) there can be no doubt that old Wynford was at the bottom of it and persuaded Lord Grantley to urge it on for some political purposes. There is pretty conclusive evidence of this. Fletcher Norton, who is staying in town, was examined on the trial, and Denison, who is Norton’s neighbour, and who talked to Fletcher Norton’s host, was told that Fletcher Norton had shown him the case on which they were going to proceed, and that he had told him he thought it was a very weak one, to which he had replied so did he, but he expected it would produce a very important political effect.”
In 1837 Lord Melbourne became political adviser to the Queen. As her Prime Minister he had to see her every day, as her Secretary he had to spend an hour or two with her daily in going through her State correspondence. Thus before many months were passed, the Opposition began to make stringent remarks upon Melbourne at Windsor, but the Duke of Wellington, satisfied with his actions and his treatment of the Queen, said, “I wish he were always there!” This continued companionship raised a warm feeling of friendship in the minds of both; Melbourne became devoted to his Queen, and received from her an almost filial confidence. George Villiers, who was once on a visit to Windsor, was greatly impressed with the relationship between the two, remarking:—
“Lord Melbourne’s attitude to the Queen is so parental and anxious, but always so deferential and respectful; hers, indicative of such entire confidence, such pleasure in his society. She is continually talking to him; let who will be there, he always sits next her at dinner, and evidently by arrangement, because he always takes in the lady in waiting, which necessarily places him next her, the etiquette being that the lady in waiting sits next but one to the Queen. It is not unnatural, and to him it is peculiarly interesting. I have no doubt he is passionately fond of her as he might be of his daughter if he had one, and the more because he is a man with a capacity for loving without having anything in the world to love. It has become his province to educate, instruct, and form the most interesting mind in the world. No occupation was ever more engrossing or involved greater responsibility. I have no doubt that Melbourne is both equal to and worthy of the task, and that it is fortunate she has fallen into his hands, and that he discharges this great duty wisely, honourably, and conscientiously. There are, however, or rather may be hereafter, inconveniences in the establishment of such an intimacy, and in a connection of so close and affectionate a nature between the young Queen and her Minister; for whenever the Government, which hangs by a thread, shall be broken up, the parting will be painful, and their subsequent relations will not be without embarrassment to themselves, nor fail to be the cause of jealousy in others. It is a great proof of the discretion and purity of his conduct and behaviour, that he is admired, respected, and liked by all the Court.”
There were, however, to the Viscount some small inconveniences caused by his constant attendance at Court. He possessed very courtier-like instincts, it is true, but in general his attitudes were anything but those of a courtier, for he loved to lounge and sprawl, while his language was distinctly unparliamentary, being interlarded with Damns. Someone writes that when Brougham’s own irresponsibility made it impossible to trust him again with the Great Seal, Melbourne made the emphatic remark: