Tuesday, March 12, 2024

I’ve been thinking about oddities in American culture and recently came across the story of Emperor Norton. If you’re not familiar, an odd gentleman living in the San Francisco area in the 1800s proclaimed himself Emperor of the United States – Norton the First. Amazingly, a large number of people humored him in supporting his reign. It’s a fascinating story.

Mere citizen Joshua Norton first succeeded wildly and then ultimately failed in business, losing the inheritance from his father as well as his own money in real estate deals and as a commodities broker.  Though at one point he was purportedly worth the equivalent of $10 million in today’s dollars, he lost large sums on rice futures and other speculations that didn’t work out. Norton attempted to void that rice purchase contract stating he had been misled by the broker, which lead to two years of fierce court battles. The case eventually reached the Supreme Court of California, where Norton did not prevail. The bank foreclosed on his real estate holdings, and he filed for insolvency in 1856.

He also ran for Congress, unsuccessfully, from his tenant boarding house in 1858. By 1859, he became entirely disgusted with the courts and political institutions of the United States and declared himself “Emperor of the United States.” He issued his own currency which, remarkably, several businesses honored, and he made a series of ongoing “proclamations” in the San Francisco newspapers. He enjoyed the meals, ferry rides, train tickets, even rent forbearance he “purchased” with his Norton bucks (promissory notes in denominations between 50 cents and $10). You can still purchase a few remaining originals or reproductions if you’re feeling spendy.

Here’s his initiation declaration published, as each were, in the newspaper: “At the peremptory request and desire 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 9 years and 10 months past of San Francisco, California, declare and proclaim myself 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.”

— NORTON I., Emperor of the United States

He didn’t stop there. The following month he issued a decree to formally abolish the United States Congress claiming “…fraud and corruption prevent a fair and proper expression of the public voice; that open violation of the laws are constantly occurring, caused by mobs, parties, factions and undue influence of political sects; that the citizen has not that protection of person and property which he is entitled”

In early 1860 he went still further and called for the Army to disband the US Congress:

“WHEREAS, a body of men calling themselves the National Congress are now in session in Washington City, in violation of our Imperial edict of the 12th of October last, declaring the said Congress abolished;

“WHEREAS, it is necessary for the repose of our Empire that the said decree should be strictly complied with;

“NOW, THEREFORE, we do hereby Order and Direct Major-General Scott, the Commander-in-Chief of our Armies, immediately upon receipt of this, our Decree, to proceed with a suitable force and clear the Halls of Congress.”

The proclamations kept coming. He later called for the dissolution of the republic to be replaced by a temporary monarchy, instructed the Catholic and Protestant churches to ordain him as Emperor so he could help resolve Civil War disputes, and called for the disbanding of the nation’s political parties.

He later proclaimed that there should be a fine levied against anyone shortening the name of San Francisco with this gem:

“Whoever after due and proper warning shall be heard to utter the abominable word ‘Frisco’, which has no linguistic or other warrant, shall be deemed guilty of a High Misdemeanor, and shall pay into the Imperial Treasury as penalty the sum of $25.”

Of course, being the Emperor, those fines would need to be remitted to his imperial coffers.

If all this seems wild, trust me, it’s only part of the story. In some ways he was also prescient, calling for a bridge to be built across Okland Bay, for example. Yet the wackiest part of this story isn’t that a deluded individual got some press and scammed some folks. Rather, it’s the number of people who happily went along with it. They found him amusing. He was a celebrated figure, to the point that, after being arrested and sent for mental health testing and treatment, the locals rose up to defend him. There were protests and newspaper editorials extolling his virtues and contrasting his actions to those of the police like this:

“…he had shed no blood; robbed no one; and despoiled no country; which is more than can be said of his fellows in that line.”

You won’t believe what happened next: the chief of Police ordered Emperor Norton the First released with a formal apology given to him by the force. The Emperor replied in kind giving them all pardons. Officers reportedly saluted him on the street after that.

He went about inspecting city streets, hanging out in public places, and attending political gatherings. He even wore a uniform donated by Army officers at the Presidio.

There’s too much to try to share Emperor Norton’s story with you in its entirety, so I’ll just share a few more gems. Evidently, the 1870 US Census listed his occupation as “Emperor.”

He had a brief stint in international affairs, too, when he declared himself Protector of Mexico during some unpleasantries south of the border after Napolean III invaded.  Apparently, Napolean III was to be considered less preferable than Norton I.

I don’t know how to summarize any of this for you. I just found it hilarious and thought you might also.

Is there a moral to the story? I’ll leave that with you. Maybe he was amusing. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he was eccentrically kooky. Maybe he was ahead of his time.

I’m just glad he didn’t have Twitter.

Until next time,

Mary Schuster
Chief Knowledge Officer
October Research, LLC