Fort Worth’s city court of the late 1800s was criminal justice at its lowest form.

The criminal justice system in old Fort Worth was a different critter than it is today, not only on the street but in the courtroom. The lowliest of all the courts was city court, also known at various times as mayor’s court, recorder’s court, police court, and corporation court. It operated practically without formal rules or procedures.

City court was created as part of the Fort Worth municipal charter in 1873. Its jurisdiction covered all cases arising under the charter, that is, within the city limits. In the beginning, the mayor presided over it; thus, the name “mayor’s court.” Mayor W.P. Burts held court in his office with all parties crowding around his desk: prosecutor (city attorney), policeman, defendant(s), lawyer(s), and witnesses. The arresting officer testified to what had happened, the prosecutor laid out the charge, and the judge passed sentence. The court was in session six days a week with Sundays the only day off.

During a typical morning in 1878, Mayor G.H. Day fined Minnie Levi $3 for “disorderly conduct” (prostitution), John Smith $10 for “(perhaps) promenading with a woman of questionable character,” and G.W. Worthley $10 for “carrying a concealed weapon.”

Virtually all cases were criminal acts that violated city ordinances, called “Class C” misdemeanors today. The brand of justice dispensed was simple: a minimal fine or a few days in jail, and for those who could not pay their fine, a stretch on the work gangs that kept up the streets and sidewalks. Taxpayers much appreciated the free labor thus provided.

City court was part of the sacrosanct fees-and-fines system whereby fines were assessed plus “court costs” with the latter split among the various officers of the court in the form of fees. Typical fines were $3 for drunk and disorderly (“D&D”), the same for assault and battery, $5 for vagrancy, and $10 for public cursing. The range of fines gives some indication of the Victorian hierarchy of values.

Fines were higher for African Americans, not because they could more easily pay but because when they couldn’t pay that meant more time on the street gangs. In 1877 two “gentlemen of color” were fined $10 each for gambling. That same day in the same court a white man was fined $5 for gambling. Court costs, which could equal or exceed the amount of the fine, went into the pocket of the judge, the arresting officer, and the prosecutor. For underpaid civil servants, this was a vital source of income. In 1878, court costs for both a $3 disorderly conduct fine and a $10 concealed weapon fine were $9.85, cash only.

Trespassing, brawling, being a general “nuisance,” cruelty to animals, and the Sunday closing law were also handled by city court. Crimes like vagrancy and being a nuisance meant whatever the judge said they meant.

In 1902, a man was convicted of being a “nuisance” for keeping a swarm of ducks, two or three dozen chickens, a horse, a donkey, a goat, three pigs, and “heaven only knows what else” according to the arresting officer. The charge was filed by half a dozen of his neighbors. The judge fined him $2 and costs and warned him if he was hauled in again for the same offense the fine would be $3.

Eventually, mayors got too busy to preside over the court. The job was handed off to an appointed official known as the “recorder” whose general job description was keeper of city records. This minor bureaucrat did not have to be a practicing lawyer or even have any legal training.

A recorder might make $100 a month in salary, but that was not the real attraction of the job. His income from court costs was only limited by how many cases he heard, making the position the most lucrative in city government.

The popularity of city court with officials was not just because of the swift justice meted out. Revenue from the court paid for the police while the labor performed by those too poor to pay their fines kept the city’s streets and sidewalks reasonably clean. In fiscal 1885-86, recorder’s court pulled in $18,226.34; that was enough to pay the police force, run the jail, and operate the court itself.

Because of its close association with police, city court came to be known as “police court.” The judge and police were usually allies but not always. In 1915, police fell out with Judge B.D. Shropshire after a succession of defendants began demanding jury trials, which Shropshire granted. To clear the resulting court docket Shropshire dismissed cases wholesale, thereby denying officers their usual fees. In retaliation they began taking their arrests to the county and JP courts. Shropshire declared that he would not be intimidated, and it took some tense negotiating behind the scenes to settle things.

City court eventually acquired more respectability. Statutes required the holder to be a trained attorney or at least a man “learned in the law,” and proceedings took on more formality. After 1899, it was known under Texas law as “corporation court,” though the judge was still known as the “recorder.”

Eventually city court’s primary function became disposing of traffic citations, a reflection of how much life had changed since 1873. But for many years it was the best place to see how justice operated on the grassroots level.

Author-historian Richard Selcer is a Fort Worth native and proud graduate of Paschal High and TCU.