In the early 1850s, there arose in San Francisco a canny businessman. When his attempt to corner the market on rice failed, and he was bankrupted, he nonetheless found a way to make ends meet. He kept a roof over his head, ate at restaurants free of charge, and became one of the city’s most beloved citizens.
And this was because, one autumn day in 1859, Joshua A. Norton proclaimed himself Emperor of the United States.
Origins
British by birth, and of Jewish parentage, Norton grew up near Algoa Bay, South Africa. As a young man, he caught word of the economic heyday that was the Gold Rush, and packed his bags for San Francisco, arriving in December of 1849.
Norton quickly established himself as a successful merchant, ballasting his income by buying and selling real estate. By 1854 he was, by modern standards, a multi-millionaire.
Ruin
The 1850s brought hardship to China: in an attempt to allay a shortage of food, the nation ceased exporting rice. By 1853, San Franciscans were buying the grains at nine times their original price. Norton bought a cargo of rice from Peru, assured that he could sell it for more than he paid. However, an unexpected shipment of rice soon after caused the price to drop. Norton, ruined, could not rally his expenses in the post-Gold Rush economy.
Norton spent several years in court, disputing the validity of his losses. When his efforts came to nothing, Norton seems to have adopted a very low profile indeed. Nobody knows where he went.
Reign
In 1859, a notice appeared in the San Francisco Bulletin. It declared that “at the pre-emptory [sic] request of a large majority of the citizens”, Norton would become the ruler of the United States. It called for a political assembly at the local music hall, where Norton would discourse on how to “ameliorate the evils under which the country is laboring”. He signed it, “Norton I”.
And while this assembly never occurred, nobody disputed Norton’s newfound title. Decked out in regalia befitting a czar, with sabre, epaulets, and plumed hat, Norton enjoyed all the privileges of royalty. He printed his own currency, complete with miniature self-portrait and signature, which was gladly accepted by many a shopkeeper and restaurateur--at least those who had a sense of humour. One florist was noted for each day supplying Norton’s buttonhole with a day-old carnation.
But Norton I was no idle ruler. He continued to issue decrees, each of which were duly printed by the local papers. By the end of the 1860s he had not only established his absolute monarchy, but also abolished the party system. Clearly, Norton had a revolution in mind.
Arrest
In 1867, a police officer attempted to charge Norton with lunacy. An article in the Evening Bulletin rallied San Francisco’s citizens against this, and due to an overwhelming measure of support, Norton was released with a formal apology from the Chief of Police. Norton, in his turn, issued them a Royal Pardon.
Death
Never homeless (the Masons paid his rent) and anything but friendless (he had his own theatre-box, constant chess opponents, and often audiences when he discoursed), Norton continued to rule uncontested well into the 1870s, though some of his more ambitious moves, such as a plan to marry Queen Victoria, came to nothing.
In 1880, a sudden stroke at a street corner brought an end to his reign. The San Francisco Chronicle featured a loving obituary, and a total of thirty thousand came to pay their respects at the morgue and at his grave site. His monument in Colma still bears the title of Emperor.
References
Drury, William. Norton I, Emperor of the United States. New York: Dodd, Mead, and Company, 1986.
Quarterly of the California Historical Society
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