Emperor Norton in full dress uniform and military regalia, his hand on the hilt of a ceremonial sabre, 1875
(19) EMPEROR JOSHUA NORTON
Emperor Norton I – Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico.
Joshua Norton – the man who essentially memed himself into being the first and last Emperor of the United States.
No – he’s not fictional but a real historical figure, albeit somewhat obscure these days but one of San Francisco’s most prominent citizens in the nineteenth century and has fascinated me since I first read about him (in the Illuminatus Trilogy).
And his empire…was not entirely fictional either. Sure – the consensus seems to be that he had a complete mental breakdown after he lost his fortune from commodities trading and real estate speculation, which had elevated him to one of San Francisco’s richest citizens, from being financially ruined by a deal gone bad.
And so he declared himself emperor of the United States by imperial proclamation in a letter to the San Francisco Daily Evening Bulletin newspaper in 1859 – which they published because they thought it was funny. Which it was.
How did the city of San Francisco receive it? That’s the funniest thing – they played along. Restaurants and businesses accepted his self-issued imperial currency, effectively providing their services free of charge in return for being able to proclaim his imperial patronage, as he went about his “duty” inspecting the city. The city did a thriving trade in souvenirs from his eccentric celebrity – even donating him a new imperial uniform to replace his old one, given to him by army officers.
At one point, an overzealous police officer arrested him to commit him for involuntary treatment for a mental disorder. What followed was a massive uproar from the public and newspapers – “let him be emperor if he wants to be” was the public outcry. One paper wrote “that 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”.
The Police Chief ordered him released, with a formal apology – which Emperor Norton graciously accepted by way of an imperial pardon for the officer – and thereafter police officers saluted him in the street.
He also used his imperial powers for good. One story told of him was that he had stopped a violently anti-Chinese race riot by interposing himself between the rioters and the hapless Chinese, praying the Lord’s Prayer. The story went that the rioters were so ashamed or embarrassed that they dispersed – and thereafter the residents of Chinatown were among his most loyal subjects.
After a “reign” of 21 years, he collapsed and died on the street. Despite legends of a hidden imperial fortune, he died in complete poverty – but one of the city’s clubs donated a fund for a casket and funeral procession, which was reported to have lined the streets with thousands of the city’s citizens.
I can only hope that my own breakdowns are accompanied by such imperial delusions of grandeur, published and received so warmly. Of course, it helped that Norton carried himself with a sense of genteel grace and nobility, more than a century removed from the city’s contemporary itinerant street figures – and that he lived modestly within his imperial means donated to him rather than some grift.
And to end on a personal note, when I visited Los Angeles and San Francisco, I gave myself a quest in each city, with my quest for the latter to seek out the tomb of Emperor Norton.
