San Francisco Bay, 1851
Eccentricity was not merely an aspect of his diplomacy; it was his lifeblood.
-Matthew Rivers, The Emperor of The United States
Politics has always attracted strange characters, especially when you’re talking about nineteenth century San Francisco. The discovery of gold in the Sierras led to a flood of migration to the new state. People from all walks of life arrived in the city, hoping to make their fortune. The small sea-side community (originally called Yerba Buena, or ‘good herb’ in Spanish) exploded overnight, growing from 1,000 people in 1848 to 25,000 people in 1850.
Joshua Abraham Norton was one of the restless dreamers drawn to the city by the bay.
Not much is known about his early years, but it is believed that Joshua Norton was born in 1819 in South Africa. He didn’t immigrate to the United States until 1846, and it took him a few years to make his way west. But when he arrived in gold-rush California in 1849, he made a big splash. He made his fortune not by panning for gold but by providing resources to accommodate San Francisco’s expanding population (much like another gold rush company founded by immigrants, Levi’s jeans). He worked as a real estate speculator and invested his money in the commodities market.
Unfortunately, his good fortune didn’t last long. In 1852, he bought a shipload of Peruvian rice after hearing about supply shortages in China. Given that rice was a staple for the Asian population in the city, he thought it was a sound investment. He was wrong. More ships filled with rice ‘unexpectedly’ arrived from Peru. San Francisco was flooded with the stuff and the price for rice dropped from twelve cents a pound (what Norton paid) to six cents. Joshua Norton was financially ruined. He responded by suing the rice dealers who he felt set him up. His case went all the way to the California Supreme Court, but he lost his lawsuit.
At this point, Joshua Norton should have faded into obscurity, a broken and bitter man. But he did something unexpected, something that reflected what author Matthew Rivers called the “wonderfully quirky and rebelliously independent spirit that infused the city.” In September 1859, he issued a proclamation in the pages of the San Francisco Evening Bulletin. In it, he declared himself “Emperor of the United States”. Not long after his unprecedented announcement, he called for the dissolution of the United States Congress.
His proclamation was ignored by Congress, but it hit a nerve in San Francisco. In later writings, he lamented the rampant corruption, the unscrupulous activities and the violations of law he saw all around him. He condemned the United States Congress as “a cesspool of deceptive practices” that “served only vested interests and failed the common people who it was supposed to represent”
But ‘Emperor Norton’ was no conservative demagogue. In an era marked by profound social inequality, he championed the rights of the downtrodden. He insisted on equal rights for women and African Americans, fought hard for the rights of Asian immigrants (he even faced down an angry, anti-Chinese mob), was sympathetic to the Mexican and Native American population in the region. He even corresponded with Kamehameha V, King of Hawaii, who was having his own problems with the United States. Norton was also pro-animal rights, taking in stray cats and dogs at a time when these creatures were not highly valued.
His most audacious act came when he produced his own currency, which he called “Norton Notes”. Amazingly, shopkeepers and other businesses were happy to accept them for meals, clothing, anything their colorful politician needed. When he toured his city dressed in military garb, people flocked to him, to talk to him about their concerns and their hopes for the future of San Francisco. He always welcomed such conversations, even if it added hours to his daily circuit around the city.
His reign lasted for twenty-one years. As he walked home on a rainy night in January 1880, he collapsed at the corner California Street and Grant Avenue. Despite the intervention of onlookers, Joshua Abraham Norton died of a stroke at the age of sixty-one.
More than 10,000 people lined the streets to honor his passing. Since he died in poverty, his funeral and burial expenses were paid by the Pacific Club, a group of wealthy businessmen who admired his spirit. He was buried in the Masonic Cemetery in San Francisco. In 1924, his remains were relocated to Woodlawn Memorial Park, where admirers continue to leave flowers and other offerings.
Not bad for a man who died with less than ten dollars to his name.
Emperor Norton on his appointed rounds, 1869
Norton Notes: The “Official” Currency
FUN FACT: Did you know that among Emperor Norton’s outrageous proposals was the creation of a bridge linking San Francisco and Oakland. His dream became a reality fifty-six years after his death, when the Bay Bridge opened in 1936.
Joshua Abraham Norton, circa 1870