The last orthodox political boss of Washington was Alexander Robey Shepherd. When he finished with the city treasury, Congress voted to end home rule and took back the government.

From the time of its incorporation as a city, in 1802, Washington was run by elected mayors and aldermen. In 1871, in President Grant’s administration, it was turned into a territory, similar to Alaska or Hawaii, with delegates in Congress and a large measure of home rule. Shepherd was a pal of General Grant, who had numerous smelly friends.

Shepherd’s stewardship was modern in every respect. He went in for a New Deal on a big scale. The town was torn up while Shepherd paved streets, installed sewers—sometimes two sets to one avenue—went in for slum clearance, built squares, parks, circles, gas-mains and sidewalks. Shepherd began life as a plumber, and showed partiality for anything with pipes.

Shepherd had built up a small Tammany to keep his boys in power. Votes were bartered, crimes were fixed, laws were perverted. When the end came, Shepherd skipped and hid out until the statute of limitations ran out. When he returned they greeted him with a brass band, like New York did Jimmy Walker, and built him a statue.

The Congress was more interested in the welfare of the District of Columbia 75 years ago than it is now. Unable to stomach the stench, it decided to exercise its Constitutional right to govern the District, and substituted the present commission-form of government in place of home rule and local suffrage.

Under the present setup, the executive is a three-man commission, appointed by the President for a three-year term. One must be from the Corps of Engineers of the Army. On the law books, these commissioners have no more power than a New York City Borough President They can do practically nothing without approval from Congress. But by virtue of the apathy that prevails in Washington, these men have become little czars. Congress, by statute, has empowered the commissioners to make building and plumbing regulations and to create and enforce all reasonable police and other city rules. But they do not levy taxes or make appropriations. That is done by Congress. And that’s the District’s chief squawk.

Every buck collected in Washington goes into the general funds of the U.S. Treasury; not earmarked for the District. All payments come out of the same general fund. The result is that, while Congress pays up to ten percent of the cost of local government, the citizens bear the other 90 percent. But 52 percent of all the property is tax-exempt. The government owns more than 40 percent, the rest belongs to embassies, tax-free organizations like the Red Cross, etc. So the residents complain that the rich U.S. government is riding along on a free pass, leaving local property to bear the cost of supporting the huge Federal establishment.

The present commissioners are John Russell Young, president of the Board; Guy Mason, and Brigadier General Gordon R. Young, the engineer commissioner. Mason’s term expired in February, 1951, but he is permitted to serve until another is appointed or he be reappointed.

Under them, the commissioners have a large staff of special assistants, private secretaries, administrative assistants and others who have access to their offices. We are just telling you this in case you are thinking of making a fix, for one of these persons is the guy to see.

One of the three commissioners is noted for his ability to bollix everything up after a big, bad night—which is almost every night. Even his enemies consider inebriation a valid excuse for his befuddled condition. A Congressman investigating the Commission said, “After all, the poor guy always has a hangover. You can’t blame him for what he does when he feels awful.”

Under the commissioners are such usual municipal executive officers as assessors, auditors, tax collectors, license commissioners and bureaus of public welfare, recreation, traffic, police, fire, health, corrections; and—oh, yes—the corporation counsel.

The observer who takes a gander at the judicial branch of the District government sometimes wonders if he followed Lewis Carroll’s Alice down into the rabbit hole.

The judicial powers are exercised by the District courts, which sit not only for federal cases, but for felonious breaches of the local law, too; and by municipal courts, judges of which are appointed for six years. They have jurisdiction over minor suits and unimportant law and ordinance violations.

Members of the federal judiciary for the District of Columbia need not be local residents. They may be appointed from anywhere in the country. Usually these plums go to deserving Democrats from elsewhere. At this writing there are 12 District judges and 10 municipal court judges, in addition to justices of the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia, the Municipal Court of Appeals, and the Juvenile Court.

The District courts serve a two-fold function. They act both as federal courts and as superior state courts, handling civil and criminal matters. No judges of either court are elected by the local citizens or by their representatives. They have no interest in the community. They do not partake of a legacy of local common law and custom.

If any courts should be impartial, those of the District might be. But they are not. Some of the judges are venal, inefficient party hacks or militant propagandists for left-wing philosophies.

The U.S. Attorney for the District of Columbia has the most overworked office in the land. He not only functions as a local district attorney and as United States attorney, but triples in brass with a job corresponding to a state attorney general. But his budget and the number of assistants allotted him are on a per capita population basis, as though he had to prosecute only federal cases in any city the size of Washington.

In the prosecution of some minor cases in municipal court alone has he any assistance. The city Corporation Counsel’s office handles those. To demonstrate again what can happen when a bureaucracy turns dictator—the criminal division of his office has no law library. It does not have a secretary.

If he or his assistants want to check a law or a decision they have to buy their own books. He is given no fund to keep records, so no records are kept. It is almost impossible for him to find out the disposition of cases. He has only five low-paid assistants assigned to municipal criminal courts, and these are so overworked, sometimes they have to prosecute cases on an average of one every three minutes. Under District law, defendants are permitted jury trials in all cases where the penalty is in excess of ninety days or a $300 fine. It is no wonder the Corporation Counsel is usually willing to take a plea of disorderly conduct, instead. The maximum penalty for that is $25, no jail.

Persons accused of serious crimes under federal law must be booked immediately before a United States Commissioner, as all crimes in the District, even those like assault, robbery, drunken driving, gambling, homicide, and rape, which elsewhere belong exclusively to the state, are federal matters here.

We gave you a rough idea of the volume of such criminal activities in the District. If those defendants had been arrested for the same offenses in states, they would be booked before a magistrate, a police court or a justice of the peace. There are none such in Washington other than the judges. The chief committing magistrate is the United States Commissioner, and he has no assistants. He not only performs the federal duties that U.S. Commissioners in other towns assume, but he also acts as a committing magistrate on all local felony charges in the District.

A U.S. Commissioner is not a judge. He is chosen by the local Federal bench. He serves without salary on a fee basis, but is limited by statute to a maximum of $9,400 a year, out of which he is required to pay office rent and stenographic expenses. The law permits a U.S. Commissioner to practice law on the side, and many in other jurisdictions do, but, because the D.C. office is the busiest in the country, he has no time to handle outside cases. The Commissioner is on duty 24 hours a day. There is no night court. He is it. Police awaken him at any hour of the night when they make important arrests or require warrants, and he is busy at hearings, setting bail, and presiding at arraignments all day.

When you get into the U.S. Attorney’s office you really see how things are loused up here. The rich Federal government apparently has dough to toss away everywhere else, but not in its own home. Of course, there are no faithful voters to be placated here. District Attorney Fay has only 34 men on his staff; his office is required to do more work than the entire Second Judicial Circuit, which includes the entire states of Vermont, Connecticut and the four districts of New York. His budget is so limited, most of his assistants receive only about $4,000 a year, and so the turnover is terrific; young men just out of law school go to work for him for a couple of years, then go out to make a living.

His office is so understaffed, there are not enough employes around to handle all complaints. It is possible to walk in and rifle the files at will. Many shyster lawyers often do that, killing the cases against their clients.

With such a small, unseasoned staff, it is no wonder the complaint desk in the U.S. Attorney’s office has been compared to “a bargain grocery counter.” It looks very much like one. It’s a long wooden shelf behind which a deputy district attorney stands and does business with plaintiffs, defendants, cops and lawyers across it. We noted that police may not enter their own complaints. They must bring them to the complaint bureau of the U.S. Attorney, before the hearing in court. It is then up to the U.S. Attorney’s office alone to determine whether the complaint will be made.

What happens is that, every day, thousands of people mill around in this complaint room. An onlooker can’t tell who are cops, lawyers or prisoners. When the arresting officer speaks to the deputy D.A., he does so in this cut-rate counter atmosphere, before the defendant and his lawyer. There is no privacy. The cop has to spill his case to the opposition. The defense lawyer then sets up an argument for dropping the case or reducing the charge. The officials are so harassed, they try to dispense with as much work as possible, which accounts for a hefty proportion of pinches that never get past this bureau.

Sometimes a youngster just out of law school is the “grocery clerk.” He makes such grave rulings as deciding not to prosecute a homicide charge. These law clerks arrogate to themselves the rights and prerogatives of the courts. When the D.A. decides to go before the grand jury, he usually asks for an indictment for only one offense, even if the accused has been charged with twenty. Elsewhere the custom is to indict on each count and try on one or two, leaving the others hanging over the defendant. That does not happen in Washington. After a prisoner is discharged and commits a crime in some other jurisdiction there is no record for probation officers there of other outstanding charges against him. That’s another reason why the professionals like to practice their trades in Washington.

There’s another booby-trap for the law. The prosecuting and corrective branches of the government don’t take the cops into their confidence when a prisoner is paroled. Elsewhere the police are notified when a parolee is back on the streets, so they can keep an eye on him. In Washington this is considered an invasion of the convict’s Constitutional rights.

If the defendant cannot make a deal before the complaint bureau, his lawyer is entitled on demand to get possession of the file on his case. The place is so understaffed, with not enough stenographers, that the only notes in these files are brief pencilled memoranda jotted down by the Deputy District Attorney. There is never a complete record. It is simple for defense lawyers to sneak some of the notes out of a file; they’ll never be missed, because no carbon copies are made. The overworked deputies can seldom remember what they wrote.

When the trial is scheduled, the deputy prosecutor seldom has an opportunity to read the files, even if there were complete data. Felony cases are often ground out in District Court at the rate of one an hour, including time out for picking juries. When a U.S. Attorney finishes with one case, the clerk hands him a folder on the next. That is the first time he ever saw it. Add to this the fact that the prosecutors do not work with the police in preparing a case, and you can see what “confusion twice confounded” means.

One of the most unusual features in the setup of the District government is the office of the Coroner. Until recently, this functionary, who need not be a physician, had no laboratory. What he has now is incomplete. He has no medical examiner and only a few low-paid researchers.

But he has a swell job, with a ten-year tenure and a courtroom better than the U.S. Commissioner’s. The present Coroner has virtually set himself up as a judge, with no authority in law, and is said by his critics to work with a gavel instead of a scalpel. He is one of the town’s most powerful functionaries.

Among the many strange quirks of local law is one which requires the Coroner at times to serve as a constable and to make levies. When the Coroner acts as a coroner, he holds court like a judge. And he thinks he is one, too. He has frequently discharged from custody persons accused of homicide, who had been held without bail by a U.S. Commissioner. He often sets bail and discharges defendants on bail, though there are no statutes authorizing such procedure, and he has so admitted under oath.

There have been instances when the Coroner has ruled a death was justifiable homicide and released the prisoner. Though this is no bar to subsequent indictment, prisoners often flee the jurisdiction before the prosecuting attorney knows what has happened. The law does not permit the coroner to discharge any person.

Coroner’s juries are impaneled by that official to meet his own preconceived ideas and prejudices. There is no requirement that a coroner’s juror must even be able to read or write. The salary is $7 a day, and the Coroner has his favorites. Some men served as many as 31 times last year.

The Coroner frequently discharges the accused prisoners on grounds of justifiable homicide, despite evidence that they had committed other crimes at the same time, such as carrying concealed weapons or selling narcotics. The coroner then shrugs his shoulders and says those things are none of his business.

There have been known instances of jury fixing. Through the proper channels, a charge of a death caused by reckless driving has been reduced to an innocuous misdemeanor or dismissed completely. One of the coroner’s deputies was a notorious abortionist who performed the autopsies on his own victims.

Too bad Boss Shepherd isn’t around today. He could appreciate what the backroom boys have done to the District government.