The Forgotten Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, Norton I

The Forgotten Emperor of the United States
and Protector of Mexico, Norton I His Imperial Majesty Joshua Abraham Norton
I was born between 1811 and 1818 in England. Records of his birth date vary considerably,
but it’s likely that the latter date is the correct one. His family immigrated to South Africa when
he was quite young, where his father headed a small Jewish community. As a young man, he initially attempted to
run his own business in Cape Town but quickly went bankrupt and started working at his father’s
ship chandlery instead. By 1848, Emperor Norton had suffered some
severe losses: his mother, father, and both of his brothers had died. With no other family, Norton inherited all
$40,000 of his father’s estate and was eager to search for a new beginning. The lure of the American Dream, and the Gold
Rush in particular, drew Norton to San Francisco. He was eager to find his fortunes, though
he wasn’t interested in mining the gold fields; instead, he started a successful merchant
business and rented out space on a ship he’d purchased for storage. Just a few years after he arrived in San Francisco,
Norton was doing extremely well with assets estimated to be worth around $250,000 (about
$6.5 million today). He had added to his collection of businesses
a cigar factory, a rice mill, and an office building. But his good luck didn’t last for long. A famine in China cut off rice shipments,
sending the price of rice skyrocketing from 4 to 36 cents per pound. Norton saw an opportunity to make even more
money when Willy Sillem told him about a ship carrying Peruvian rice. If purchased, Norton would be able to undercut
the market significantly as he could get the shipment of Peruvian rice for just 12.5 cents
per pound, nearly 1/3 the going rate. Unfortunately, after putting a $2000 deposit
on a ship load of rice that would cost him $25,000 in total, more and more Peruvian ships
carrying rice sailed into harbor. The price of rice dropped down to 3 cents
per pound, meaning Norton would not only not make a profit, but lose a significant amount
of money in the process. He tried to nullify the contract on the grounds
that Sillem had misled him. The incident resulted in a two and a half
year court battle with the outcome in Sillem’s favour—Norton had to pay the remaining $23,000. At this point, Norton was near ruin. The bank foreclosed on several of his business
and properties, he was no longer able to stay at ritzy hotels, the social elite wanted nothing
more to do with him, and to top it all off, he was in court again accused of embezzling
funds from a client. By 1859, the once-wealthy merchant who had
it all was living in a working-class boarding house, down on his luck and seemingly incapable
of any upward mobility. But that isn’t the American way. When you’re living on your last dollar and
have nothing left to lose, what do you do? Declare yourself Emperor of the United States,
of course. You see, Norton had long been critical of
the United States government and was a fan of the British Empire. He felt like America was run on corruption,
inefficiency, and self-interest, and that wasn’t just because of his own losses. In 1859, California was caught up in the great
slave debate which would eventually lead to the Civil War, and San Francisco’s economy
as a whole wasn’t doing great as the Gold Rush died down. Norton remarked to a friend that things would
be going a lot more smoothly if he was in charge. It’s the kind of statement no one expects
to be acted upon, but Norton was a stubborn—if unconventional—man and decided to do something
about it. On September 17, 1859, an unusual story was
published in the San Francisco Bulletin: At the pre-emptory request of a large majority
of the citizens of these United States, I Joshua Norton, formerly of Algoa Bay, Cape
of Good Hope, and now for the last nine years and ten months past of San Francisco, California,
declare and proclaim myself the Emperor of These United States, and in virtue of the
authority thereby in me vested do hereby order and direct the representatives of the different
States of the Union to assemble in Musical Hall of this city, on the 1st day of February
next, then and there to make such alterations in the existing laws of the Union as may ameliorate
the evils under which the country is laboring, and thereby cause confidence to exist, both
at home and abroad, in our stability and integrity. Settlers in the United States colonies did
consider themselves to be part of a type of Empire; in San Francisco alone, there were
buildings like the Empire Hotel, the Empire Brewery, and the Empire Fire Engine Company,
among others. However, no one had yet been so bold to declare
themselves Emperor. It would have been easy enough to fob him
off as a mad man, but the San Francisco Bulletin continued to publish his demands and edicts. Norton I called for the dismantling of congress
and the abolishment of the Supreme Court. He fired Virginia Governor Henry A. Wise for
sending John Brown of Harper’s Ferry fame to the gallows- Norton was staunchly for equal
rights for all. But he couldn’t leave Virginia without a
Governor, so he replaced him with John C. Breckinridge of Kentucky, who was also known
as the Vice President of the United States at the time. In 1860, the Congress of the United States
convened against Emperor Norton I’s orders. In retaliation, he ordered the “Commander
in Chief of the Armies… to clear the hall of congress.” The man he was addressing was General Winfield
Scott who had commanded armies fifteen years before, was now 74 years old, and living in
the Washington Territory rather than Washington D.C. That same year, Emperor Norton I declared
the United States an absolute monarchy. In 1869, he abolished the Democratic and Republican
parties. Obviously, none of Emperor Norton I’s decrees
ever came to fruition, at least not because of anything Norton said (later a few of his
ideas would be independently implemented). As a self-proclaimed Emperor with no armies
or money to back his proclamations up, he had no real legal power to create a monarchy,
fire Governors, or dismantle the Supreme Court. However, oddly enough, he did end up gaining
power of a sort. Emperor Norton I quickly became a legend and
was extremely popular among the people of San Francisco. Politicians were forced to humour him, because
to show him disrespect was to lose votes. As an example of his popularity, Emperor Norton
I was arrested once, but it wasn’t for conspiracy to overthrow the government or anything of
the sort; rather, he was picked up for vagrancy and was later charged with lunacy. His arrest caused an outcry—newspapers immediately
took to the presses to urge the public to attend the Emperor’s hearing and protest
the injustice against His Imperial Majesty. It produced the desired effect: Emperor Norton
I was released with a full apology, and Police Chief Patrick Crawley ordered all police officers
to salute Emperor Norton I when they passed him in the streets, where he could often be
found inspecting the city and socializing with his subjects. The Emperor didn’t live exactly like a king,
but his new life did provide a lot of perks other than salutes from police officers and
a popular name in newspaper stories. He continued to rent a room in a cheap boarding
house for just 50 cents a night. His clothes were largely cast-offs from his
loyal subjects, including a few old army uniforms and a hat that was given to him by a shopkeeper
so that the shop could then be deemed “outfitters to His Imperial Majesty.” At a certain point, when his uniform became
too worn, the city of San Francisco saw to it that he was given a brand new uniform to
wear, as no Emperor of the United States should go around in shabby clothing. Besides the free clothes, he was able to ride
on San Francisco’s public transportation for free, and was even given a free rail pass
in the state of California. He was also given free meals in several restaurants,
including very upscale establishments where he was often treated as a VIP guest, though
it’s likely the restaurant owners did that for publicity rather than out of kindness. Similarly, when he wished to attend a play,
an opera, or the like, he typically had little trouble acquiring a box seat for free, and
he was occasionally honored at such shows. When Emperor Norton I needed a bit of extra
money, he went door-to-door asking businesses for the “tax” due to him, which many fans
would hand over. At other times, he simply printed his own
money, which was honored by many businesses in San Francisco as if it were real currency. imperial
A $10 note from Emperor Norton With the completion of the transcontinental
railroad, Emperor Norton I became something of a tourist attraction. You are probably thinking, like most people
at the time, that the man was insane, and that’s probably true—but he was also a
business man through and through. The Emperor talked to anyone who wanted to
meet him and also occasionally used some of his self-made “promissory notes” to trade
with tourists in exchange for U.S. currency, with his notes to be repaid with 7% interest
in 1880. Obviously, no one thought to collect, as they
really just wanted the Emperor’s signature to take back with them as a souvenir. Similarly, various businesses were making
significant amounts of money selling Emperor Norton I souvenirs, from post cards to dolls
to cigars. They also put up signs in their windows that
said “By Appointment of Emperor Norton I.” This nearly homeless man quickly became a
national hero. Besides inspecting the city, dolling out various
decrees, and engaging anyone who would talk to him in philosophical debates, his Imperial
Majesty once managed to do the near impossible- stop a mob in their tracks. While the details of the act have likely been
blown out of proportion over time, at one point a very small mob was attempting to attack
a Chinese immigrant (more fanciful versions of the story have him standing between a huge
crowd of rioters, barring their entry into Chinatown- doing his best impression of the
future character of Gandalf against the Balrog on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm). Not to be one to let such shenanigans take
place in his country, Emperor Norton I set himself between the Chinese man and the attackers. Whether it was due to his own popularity in
the town or because he supposedly yelled out the Lord’s Prayer repeatedly in the attacker’s
faces, the immigrant was saved and the small mob dispersed. Unfortunately, after 21 years ruling these
United States and later also protecting Mexico, on a sad day in January of 1880, the Emperor
suddenly fell to the sidewalk during his evening walk. He died before he could be taken to hospital. The Pacific Club of San Francisco set about
raising funds for a proper high end rosewood casket, as well as to cover other funeral
expenses for Norton, who died nearly penniless, having chosen to never overtax his subjects. His death was lamented throughout the land. Around 10,000 people paid their respects at
his funeral, with some newspaper accounts claiming as many as 30,000 people, about 13%
of the population of San Francisco at the time, lined the streets for the two mile procession
to his grave site; newspapers across the country reported the death of the emperor. One newspaper, The Alta California, even dedicated
34 inches of print celebrating the life of the Emperor. On the same day it printed just 38 words from
the new Governor of California’s inaugural speech.


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