The First and Last Emperor of America

your ancestors are nobles in a certain country. Barring a revolution, you'll also be a noble. Although even after a revolution there were plenty of Russian aristocrats who fled the country and settled in various European manners and hotel rooms and still called themselves dukes and duchesses. What have you without a country? So blood there it is. But you can also be granted a title by a royal for an act of service or greatness, or you can marry a royal.

Those are two ways for a commoner to insert his or herself into an already existing system of nobility. You probably won't be the main monarch, but you'll still get a title, And then there's the coup strategy. If you can overthrow a king, then you become the king so long as the military and certain foreign powers will accept you. So what is the actual common denominator then that unites the cousins, the spouses, the usurpers, what makes them all

real royals? That then diagram becomes even harder to reckon with when you add in a country like Belgium, which imported in a semi random Bavarian prince to be their king in eighteen thirty one because they figured that any self respecting independent European country needed a king. It's not necessarily money that makes a king. There are plenty of royals who are history rich and cash poor, and it's

certainly not actual power. Just ask any of the present day royals whose days consist more of charity events and

ceremonial displays than declarations of war. I suppose, at its most basic core, if you strip away the factor of historical precedent and focus only on any given moment actually in the present, A monarch is a figure supported by the people or government financially or otherwise, who can offer opinions or proclamations, who attend the needs of the people to the best of their ability, who serve as a uniting symbol, someone that the government and the people have

decided is a monarch. With that in mind, and only semi ironically, in honor of A Berl Fool's Day, I ask you to consider the curious case of Emperor Norton the First, the man who in eighteen fifty nine declared himself to be the Emperor of the United States. Most contemporary accounts saw him as an eccentric if they were

being polite, insane if they weren't. But today, now that we've moved past fiefdoms and protectorate, maybe the entire notion of royalty, of someone being born more worthy of power than somebody else, is a little bit insane. And there's certainly nothing more American than a man who decided what he wanted to be and then lived it. I'm Danis Schwartz, and this is noble blood. The man who would eventually

style himself as Emperor. Norton the First was born in Deptford, Kent, present day a part of London, on November fourth, eighteen eighteen, to English Jewish parents. There's actually some historical disagreement as to the actual year that Norton was born. Even his obituary when he died gave his age as quote about

sixty five. But from what I've read, eighteen eighteen seems to be the year with the most documented supporting evidence, and that evidence includes the record of Norton being two years old when his parents moved from England to South Africa in eighteen twenty. After the Napoleonic Wars, England was facing an unemployment crisis, and the government responded by encouraging their citizens to move to England's African Colony. The promise

was wealth and opportunity. Those who traveled there eventually came to be known as the eighteen twenties settlers, and though the eastern border of the colony never became the densely populated metropolitan are area that the British governor in South Africa no doubt envisioned, it seems that the land provided at least enough stable income for Norton's parents to go on to have six more children. Norton's mother died in eighteen forty six and his father died just two years later,

leaving Norton as an orphan. In his early thirties. Without an anchor, he had no real connection to South Africa, and though we don't have this specific date to confirm when it happened, most of his siblings didn't make it past infancy. He was his father's sole surviving son, which meant that he inherited whatever property was left over after they passed. Norton was an ambitious man. Like his parents,

he was willing to cross oceans to chase opportunity. He took his inheritance, stopped briefly in South America, and then made his way towards that mythical land of gold, the American West. There was a gold rush happening in California in eighteen forty nine, and Joshua Norton was going to San Francisco in almost no time at all. Norton became

a semi prominent businessman. Now, this part of Norton's life when he first arrived in America is another major point of contention amongst those who study and write about Norton's life. Right after Norton's death, an obituary asserted that Norton had arrived in San Francisco with forty thousand dollars an inheritance from his father. That number has been almost endlessly duplicated

in other sources. You find sometimes by more sensationalist accounts, which also go on to declare that Norton quickly parlayed that forty thousand dollars using his business acumen, into two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. But there's not a ton of evidence for those claims, although they do paint a compelling picture of a man catapulting himself from obscurity to wealth in less than a year in the land of opportunity. More detailed biographies imply that Norton's father was actually in

debt in South Africa. Still, it's possible that after liquidating his father's business and paying off debts, Norton still had a decent inheritance, and it's more than possible that he turned that inheritance into a hefty profit once he reached California.

Although to me the two d and fifty thousand dollar amount seems a little nebulous, it's probably more accurate to say that by eighteen fifty two Norton was a member of the San Francisco well to do by Association, perhaps not as wealthy as most of the other social elite, but well liked and certainly well respected. But that was a status that wouldn't last long. In December of eighteen fifty two, China banned the export of their rice in response to a famine, so that its own citizens could

afford to eat. As you might imagine, that band of Chinese exports caused the price of rice to skyrocket around the rest of the world. The staple, which usually cost four cents a pound in San Francisco, was going for as high as thirty six cents a pound. That's when a business acquaintance came into Norton's office. The man pulled a handful of rice from his pocket. Excellent quality. Where did you get that? Norton asked. There are two hundred thousand pounds of it on board the ship the Glide,

sitting in the harbor right now. The acquaintance said, the rice came from Peru. It's the only rice San Francisco is going to get for a while, and definitely the only rice of this quality. I'll take the entire shipment, Norton said. He bought all two hundred thousand pounds of Peruvian rice for twelve cents a pound. He would control the entire market, and if all went according to plan, he would make a massive profit. It's probably not a surprise if I say things didn't go according to plan.

Norton was all set to make a tidy profit until several more shipments of Peruvian rice arrived in Port over the next few days. By the very next week, there was so much rice from Peru in San Francisco that

the price was lowered to two cents a pound. And to make matters worse, the two hundred thousand pounds of rice from the Glide that Norton had purchased was small, hard, terrible quality, nothing like the beautiful handful of rice that had glimmered like pearls in his acquaintance's hand, the rice that had tempted him into what was promised to be a sure fire investment. Norton was ruined. He claimed that he was misled by the business associate and tried to

avoid his contract and began a lengthy legal battle. Norton one in lower courts, but eventually the California Supreme Court ruled against him. If the payment for the two hundred thousand pounds of low quality, overpriced rice hadn't already been enough to ruin him. The legal fees took what was left. Norton's holdings were foreclosed on. Norton declared bankruptcy, fed up

and exasperated by the American judicial system. In eighteen fifty eight, he was living as a pauper in a cheap San Francisco boarding house, paying by the week, alongside degenerates and the impoverished. There's no record of what Norton did while he was licking his wounds, hiding from the society, folks who had up until so recently been his friends. He was a proud man, and he remained in seclusion until

he was ready to be reborn. On September sevent eighteen fifty nine, a proclamation was printed in the San Francisco

Daily Evening Bulletin. It read, at the peremptory 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 past nine years and ten months of San Francisco, California, declare and proclaim myself Emperor of these Us, and in virtue the authority thereby in me vested do hereby order and direct the representatives of different states of the Union to assemble in the Music Hall

of this city on the first 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 caused confidence to exist, both at home and abroad in our stability and integrity. That meeting of all the states at the Musical Hall it never happened, But Norton wasn't entirely wrong about the troubling direction that the American political system was heading into.

We were a year away from Abraham Lincoln being elected president, and it would be a year after that that the Civil War would begin. Norton saw the fractures in this country, the deep roots of racism and division amongst its people. He figured an emperor would be just the thing to fix us. He had delivered his typewritten proclamation to newspaper offices around the city. In person, he was a large man,

more stocky than tall. Behind his thick mustache and full beard, he had small, sharp eyes and a complexion that verged on ruddy. His hair was dark and curly, but almost always hidden beneath a beaver hat, although eventually he would take to wearing the sunken, flat soft cap of a Union soldier along with the rest of a blue Union uniform. Norton purchased these uniforms from pawn shops, usually left behind by Union deserters. Over time, Norton's uniform gradually became more elaborate.

He was gifted gold plated epaulets that he affixed to his clothing whenever he wanted to look particularly regal, and his hat would come to house a peacock feather and a rosette. Sometimes Norton walked around the San Francisco streets with a cane. His politics were progressive. His first proclamation after announcing himself, of course, was to dismiss the governor

of Virginia for hanging the abolitionist John Brown. Norton would go on to demand that African Americans be permitted to attend public schools and to ride public street cars, and

that Chinese people be permitted to testify in court. Quote, the eyes of the Emperor will be upon anyone who shall counsel any outrage or wrong on the Chinese Emperor, Norton wrote and with respect to Native Americans, Norton wrote that any parties connected with frauds against the quote Indian tribes were to be punished before a council of as

many Native American chiefs as could be assembled. Though his words didn't make much of a polite to call impact in San Francisco, at least, it didn't take long for Emperor Norton to gain massive attention as a popular figure, a figure who captured the public imagination and became something of a citywide mascot. Just two years after Norton appeared on the scene, a new theater in San Francisco opened with a comic opera written and staged about him, called

Norton the First or Emperor for a Day. Citizens delighted at seeing him in public, especially if he happened to be accompanied by two of San Francisco's other most famous citizens,

beloved street dogs Bummer and Lazarus. Industrialist Leland Stanford, who was the president of the Central Public Railroad, clocked Norton's popularity and saw an opportunity to gain some good pr to help dispel his robber baron reputation, Stanford gave Norton a free pass for all of his train routes in California, Norton lived off of goodwill donations and good deals throughout

the city. Most pubs offered a free lunch with the purchase of a drink, but Norton typically ate at the Bank Exchange, where you could get a free lunch of soup, salmon, roast, beef, potatoes, bread, and cheese, all with the purchase of a brandy smash

for just twenty five cents. His clothes were shabby, visibly secondhand, and if friends from his former life tried to help him, Norton would be willing to take fifty cent pieces, but only because he referred to them as taxes and recorded them dutifully in a notebook that he always carried with him. He's actually secretly incredibly wealthy, went the gossip on the streets. Didn't you hear he's a millionaire. He only accepts charity and lives the way he does because he's very cheap.

It's all a ruse. Yes, I've heard that, came the typical sponse. Did you know he's actually the secret son of Louis Napoleon. When Napoleon invaded Mexico, Norton gave himself an additional title Protector of Mexico, despite the fact that there's no evidence that Norton ever set foot in Mexico

at any point during his life. One brief side note, if you happen to have listened to my Noble Blood episode about Maximilian and Carlotta of Mexico, you'll know that Norton um didn't do such a great job as Protector. All the while, Norton continued to issue decrees that were published by newspapers. A proclamation that the Democratic and Republican parties were to be abolished, a demand that Sacramento clean up the mud on its street and installed gaslight on

the street leading to the Capitol Building. And a very forward thinking idea that a bridge or tunnel should be built to connect Say and Francisco to Oakland. When norton second hand uniform began to fall apart, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors bought him a new one. In response, Norton sent a formal thank you letter and issued every member of the board quote a patent of nobility in perpetuity. Newspapers, particularly the Daily Alta California, recognized what a boon umper

Norton was to circulation numbers. He was a central comic figure to the tapestry of the city. People loved him, and so in short time, certain newspapers began using Norton's name and notoriety to make editorial jokes about political situations, writing phony proclamations supposedly by him. It's under these circumstances that one of the most widely shared proclamations supposedly by

Norton was issued in eighteen seventy two. Quote whoever, after do 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 twenty five dollars. Charming and a good reminder never to call San Francisco frisco, but probably not actually written by

Emperor Norton. Because Emperor Norton was almost from the outset, a figure larger than life, a living myth, it can be difficult to parse out the truth in his history, as opposed to stories that were merely urban legends that cast a colorful folk hero in the leading role. There's also the question as to whether well Emperor Norton was mentally unwell. He seemed to genuinely believe that he was

the Emperor of the United States. The eighteen seventy census lists his occupation sensibly as emperor, but also added the note that he was insane. The famous writer Mark Twain was living in San Francisco for several years during Emperor Norton's reign, and in Twain's column for the Daily Morning Call, he wrote of Norton, quote, Oh, dear, it was always a painful thing for me to see the Emperor begging for Although nobody else believed he was an emperor, he

believed it. In eighteen sixty seven, a man named Armand Barbier, who was working as part of a civilian security policing force, arrested Norton and tried to have him involuntarily committed to a psychiatric facility. The outrage was loud an instant. The Daily Alta wrote an article with the headline arrest of the Emperor, which read quote Special Officer Barbier yesterday arrested the Emperor Norton the first and took him to the

calaboost to be examined by the Commissioner of Lunacy. Norton was, in his day a respectable merchant, and since he has worn the Imperial purple, he has shed no blood, robbed and nobody, and despoiled the country of no one, which is more than can be said for any of his fellows in that line. Within a day, the San Francisco Chief of Police himself personally granted Norton's release and issued

a formal apology, which Norton graciously accepted. Norton also graciously granted an imperial pardon to Barbier, who Norton understood was only trying to do his job. The Dailyalta's article about his release read honorably discharge urged his Imperial majesty. Norton, the first who was arrested as a lunatic on Monday night, as stated in The Altar, was promptly discharged from custody as soon as the facts of the arrest were made

known to the proper authorities. Yesterday, he called the property Clerk's desk, received back the key of the palace and the imperial funds amounting to four dollars and seventy cents of lawful money of the United States. From that day on, whenever police saw Emperor Norton walking through the streets of

San Francisco and his uniform and hat, they saluted. Norton was a fixture of the city, riding trains, trolleys, and ferries, attending sessions of the state legislature, university lectures, and occasionally traveling across California to inspect military troops. Norton also issued his own currency from fifty cents to ten dollars, which was happily accepted by the restaurants that he frequently patronized.

Norton was so famous and beloved in the city that businesses would gleefully declare themselves as the Emperor's favorite to gain publicity. Emperor Norton reigned for over twenty years, traveling the city, writing his proclamations on typewriters at the city library, greeting any small dogs were children who came his way with a smile, and declaring any child who met him to be king or queen for a day. But then, on January eight, Norton was on his way to a

lecture at the California Academy of sciences. When he collapsed on the corner of what is now California Street and Grand Avenue. A policeman happened to be nearby, and he rushed to get Norton a carriage to the hospital, but it was too late. Norton had a stroke and he died almost instantly. As it turns out, all of the

rumors of the Emperor having secret wealth were unfounded. When the authorities went through his belongings, they found only six dollars in small change and no personal belongings of value, although there was one fake letter from Alexander the Second of Russia congratulating Norton on his impending marriage to Queen Victoria. Over the years, Norton had sent numerous letters to the Queen of England proposing that they unite their empires through matrimony,

although rudely Victoria never responded. Norton was going to be buried in a simple redwood box until the people of San Francisco decided that he deserved a proper burial. The Pacific Club issued a subscription list two sponsors who would donate. That list supposedly is still available to see in their club room. Norton was buried in a rosewood casket, and his funeral procession was over two miles long, with as many as ten thousand people lining the streets to pay

their final respects. Norton lived on in literature. Mark Twain's most famous novel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, includes two con artists who call themselves the Duke and the King, the latter pretending to be the descendant of the dead Dauphin Louis, the seventeenth of France. Although those characters are antagonists wildly not merely eccentric but actually nefarious, they were

nevertheless inspired by the Emperor. But I find a more fitting literary description of Emperor Norton in Young gay Men's graphic novel series The Sandman in the story Three Septembers and a January. If you haven't read Sandman yet, please put it on your list immediately. In the series, Despair, Dream, Delirium, Desire, and Death are all semi living characters, immortal siblings called

the Endless. In the comic, after Norton fails as a businessman, he is a victim of despair until Dream arrives and gives him the dream of him being an Emperor. It's that dream that keeps him from going mad. He ought to be mine, but he isn't. Is he delirium asks He's so sane except about being the Emperor. Of course, his madness keeps him sane. At the end of the issue, when death comes for Emperor Norton, the two of them

walk away side by side. I've met a lot of kings and emperors and heads of state in my time, Joshua Death says to him, I've met them all, and you know something I think I like to you best.

That's the story of Emperor Norton. But keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear a little bit more about the Emperor's legacy in San Francisco, And just a quick reminder if you want to support the show, we have a Patreon, Patreon, dot com slash Noble Blood Tales where you can get access to scripts, episode bibliographies, and

other behind the scenes information. Eventually, after Norton's death, there was a bridge built between San Francisco and Oakland, the Bay Bridge, built in fifty six years after Norton's death. Since then, there have been multiple campaigns to rename the

bridge in his honor. Another little bit of interesting Norton comes from Jose Saria, who became the first openly gay person to ever run for public office in the United States when he ran for the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in Sarria was also a drag performer who sometimes styled himself as her Royal Majesty Embrace of San Francisco,

Jose the First the Widow Norton. Sarria actually purchased the grave plot next to Joshua Norton, and that's where he was buried next to his imaginary husband, the Imaginary Emperor. Noble Blood is a production of I Heart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Minky. The show was written and hosted by Dani Schwartz and produced by Aaron Manky,

Matt Frederick, Alex Williams, and Trevor Young. Noble Blood is on social media at Noble Blood Tales, and you can learn more about the show over at Noble blood Tales dot com. For more podcasts from I Heart Radio, visit the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. M