Pylimitics

"Simplicity" rearranged


September 17

It’s kind of amazing that today, September 17, isn’t more widely commemorated as the day Norton I, Emperor of the United States, was crowned. As emperor of the egalitarian USA, it makes perfect sense that Norton I started life as a commoner. He was born Joshua Abraham Norton in England in 1818. Or sometime between 1814 and 1819, at least. The humble origins of the Emperor are shrouded in a certain mystery. 

It’s known that Norton’s family moved from England to South Africa as part of a colonization plan sponsored by the English crown. If the passengers and crew on board the “La Belle Alliance” were aware of the budding royalty toddling around the decks, they didn’t leave any record of it. 

Joshua Norton matured in South Africa and  traveled to San Francisco in1849, either on the “Franzeska” or, possibly, on some other vessel. The  surprising failure of his subjects to preserve any of these fateful ships — or for that matter, to clearly record many of the actual events of the day — remains a sad omission from history. Norton arrived in San Francisco with a sum of $40,000, his inheritance from his father’s estate. It may have been some other sum, or no sum at all, and its source (if there was a source) may have been entirely different, but it’s beyond dispute that sometime after 1849, he really did reside in San Francisco. 

In spite of the coincidental timing, Norton had not been drawn to San Francisco by the 1849 gold rush; he arrived somewhat before the discovery. Unless his arrival was later, of course, and we have to allow for the possibility that he was drawn there, like so many others, by the allure of gold. It’s been true throughout history that monarchs — particularly emperors — are enamored of the stuff. There may have been rumors among some of his subjects that he arrived earlier than otherwise recorded (not that his arrival was recorded at all) and used his imperial abilities to predict the location of the gold. These stories are almost certainly apocryphal, however, and believed only by the more credulous imperial subjects. 

What is certain is that Norton became a successful commodities trader and real estate speculator. He amassed a fortune that was reported at least once as $250,000. Other reports, as is common with the enigmas surrounding Norton’s years before his accession, disagree. But in 1852, disaster struck. Possibly as the result of a plot against the incipient Emperor by Unnamed AntiImperial Forces, he was swindled out of a large sum in an attempt to corner the market in Peruvian rice bound for China. He purchased the entire shipment of the “Glyde,” 200,000 pounds of rice, for twelve cents per pound. 

It was all the rice available, and as a benevolent (future) emperor, he saw the need to try to alleviate the famine then gripping China. Or possibly he simply saw a way to amass more funds, which he doubtless would have used in a philanthropic endeavor (unless he wouldn’t have). Unfortunately (or as the result of the aforementioned mysterious anti-imperialist forces), several more ships full of Peruvian rice arrived and the price of rice fell to a mere three cents per pound.

Although unfortunate in the short term, the Incident of the Peruvian Rice turned out to be a seminal event in the transformation of Joshua Norton to Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico. He and the rice dealers engaged in extensive litigation, eventually reaching the Supreme Court of California in 1858. It was the following year that, having observed first hand that the legal and political institutions of his adopted country were sorely wanting (the Supreme Court had ruled against him), he took matters into his own royally capable hands and issued his historic Proclamation of September 17, declaring himself (at the peremptory request and desire of a large majority of the citizens of the United States) Emperor Norton I.

His reign continued for 21 years, and solved many of the problems facing the nation, even today. Congress is widely regarded as ineffectual — but this is simply to be expected, as it was formally abolished by Norton I on October 12, 1859. So it’s simply foolish to expect a nonexistent entity to be able to effectively govern. The Republican and Democratic parties are similarly illusory; they were dissolved by Norton I on August 12, 1869. 

The many other accomplishments and visionary edicts of Norton I include instructing his subjects to form a League of Nations, forbidding conflict on the basis of religion, and calling for the construction of a suspension bridge between San Francisco and Oakland. All of these eventually came to pass, although Norton I was known to be occasionally irritated that his pronouncements appeared, at the time, to be completely ignored. The reality, obviously, was that work on all of them was undertaken, but at an agonizingly slow pace. 

More recently there have been campaigns to correct some historic errors — the bridge called for by Norton I was, by some bureaucratic oversight, called the “San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge” rather than “The Emperor Norton Bridge” (which would clearly be more appropriate). 

Should you doubt any of the lore regarding Emperor Norton I, you’re invited to peruse the official information recorded in the 1870 United States Census — an official government document, with all the power and authority that implies. It lists one Joshua Norton as residing at 624 Commercial Street in San Francisco, whose occupation is “Emperor.” Moreover, if you have the means, you can still find currency issued by Emperor Norton I; the bills now sell to collectors for $10,000 and up. 

Norton I passed away in 1880, and his coffin was carried in a two-mile long cortège through the streets of San Francisco, with as many as 10,000 people lining the sidewalks to pay homage. The Emperor Norton Trust is still working on their campaign to have the Bay Bridge renamed the Emperor Norton Bridge. They were trying to do it in 2022, the 150th anniversary of his 1872 proclamation calling for the bridge, but having missed that deadline, I’m sure they’re still at it. 



About Me

I’m Pete Harbeson, a writer located near Boston, Massachusetts. In addition to writing my own content, I’ve learned to translate for my loquacious and opinionated puppy Chocolate. I shouldn’t be surprised, but she mostly speaks in doggerel.