Joshua Norton was born in 1818 to Jewish parents, in the town of Deptford that has since been consumed by London, and spent his childhood in South Africa.
For a time he worked as an auctioneer and joined his father's chandlery, but in 1849 he arrived in San Francisco with $40,000 and established a real estate and import business that by 1851 boosted his wealth to $250,000 (over $8MM in 2025).

This prosperity did not last - in late 1852 Mr. Norton made a disastrous attempt to corner the rice market that left him financially ruined. For five more years he cast around taking his creditors all the way to California Supreme Court and attempting to gain elected office as SF tax collector, or, at least, a U. S. Congressman, but did not succeed.

Finally, at the end of his 10th year in San Francisco and his rope, Mr. Norton took out an ad in the San Francisco Daily Evening Bulletin proclaiming himself Emperor. The proclamation was reprinted as far as Louisiana, Missouri, and Connecticut, but only San Francisco bowed immediately to his reign.

San Francisco is a tolerant city, a city where an individual's self-identification is respected. Joshua Norton identified as an Emperor of the United States and everyone accepted him as such.

As Robert Louis Stevenson wrote: "In what other city would a harmless madman who supposed himself emperor of the two Americas have been so fostered and encouraged? Where else would even the people of the streets have respected the poor soul's illusion? Where else would bankers and merchants have received his visits, cashed his cheques, and submitted to his small assessments? Where else would he have been suffered to attend and address the exhibition days of schools and colleges? where else, in God's green earth, have taken his pick of restaurants, ransacked the bill of fare, and departed scathless?"

The only thing wrong with this view is that the Emperor was not mad. He was simply the Emperor. In fact, when some fool arrested His Majesty and attempted to charge him with lunacy all newspapers rose to his defense so that the Police Chief Crowley formally apologized and ordered all police officers to salute the Emperor when he passed. His Majesty, in a characteristic show of benevolent generosity, pardoned the poor madman who arrested him.

Emperor Norton ordered a bridge to Oakland to be built "as soon as it may be convenient" - and you can see the bridge today. He prohibited the enforcement of State Sunday laws - and Sunday laws are no longer enforced in California. He demanded that the Chinese citizens be permitted to testify in court - and they can now testify in court. He demanded that African Americans be able to ride street cars and attempt public schools - they do. He supported the women's franchise, and women in San Francisco vote in droves. Is it because of his orders? No, but the orders were given and San Franciscans heard them. And, in any case, doesn't the universal love and respect that San Francisco held for a man of such radically humanist views tell you something about the city?

True, not all his edicts have yet been carried out. The Emperor frequently ordered repairs of San Francisco streets, and those have not yet been completed. Democratic and Republican parties failed to self-dissolve, nor has the U. S. Congress yet been disbanded. Mexico proved ungovernable and the Emperor had to relinquish his protectorate over it.
Perhaps his greatest failure came in 1878, when the Emperor stood before a blood-thirsty mob led by Dennis Kearney and ordered it to disperse and molest the Chinese citizens of his city no more. Despite what the legend will tell you they did not disperse.

Throughout all the cares and disappointments of Emperor Norton's reign he remained kind and generous to his subjects, frequently granting the title of King or Queen for a Day to children or especially helpful adults and bestowing cabinet posts on those who contributed to the flourishing of San Francisco.

In January of 1880, shortly before his promissory notes were due, His Majesty headed out to attend a debate at the Academy of Natural Sciences and collapsed at the corner of Grant and California streets. Thus ended a 20 year reign that, unlike any other in human history, was neither obtained nor supported by force of arms, but only by the love and respect of the governed.

As Emperor Norton lay in state at the undertaker's morgue at 16 O'Farrel St. over 10,000 San Franciscans (over a quarter of the city's population) came to pay him their respects, and hundreds contributed to funeral expenses.
It is not true, however, that his funeral cortege was three miles long. It was a mere three carriages and, over his grave, 30 or so of the most dedicated mourners.