There was no grand entrance of the accused for the media horde to document. No stirring speech on the courthouse steps. In fact, the defendant never spoke during the sometimes plodding and technical proceedings.

Still, there was plenty of political theater — and heated dialogue — on the first day Gov. Rick Perry went to court to face abuse-of-power charges.

Two days after he addressed a jubilant Republican victory party on election night, Perry made the short trip to district court, just blocks from the governor’s mansion.

Perry, who has reigned for 14 years and still has presidential ambitions after a botched 2012 campaign — remember his “Oops” moment? — was indicted in August by a Travis County grand jury on two felony counts: abusing his official capacity and coercing a public servant. Prosecutors say he abused his power by vetoing funds for the state’s ethics watchdog.


He is the first Texas governor in nearly a century to face criminal charges, which involved the undignified task of being fingerprinted and having his mug shot taken. But Perry has worn the charges like a badge of courage, offering up a tight-lipped smile for his mug shot, joking about the case to conservative conference crowds, blithely traveling to Europe in recent months, holding briefings about the Dallas Ebola crisis and celebrating the victory this week of his successor, Texas Atty. Gen. Greg Abbott.

“I’m able to multitask pretty good,” he said after Thursday’s hearing, which primarily concerned whether the special prosecutor was sworn in correctly.

Visiting Judge Bert Richardson said he expected the 10 a.m. hearing to last 15 minutes. It took an hour and a half and included surreal debates about the actions of court personnel — the same personnel handling the proceedings Thursday. Two court clerks were called to testify and the judge was asked to rule on the oath he had administered to the special prosecutor he appointed.

Perry, who now wears glasses and has shed his signature cowboy boots because of back problems, never testified or spoke up, occasionally smiling and smirking as he whispered to two attorneys flanking him, with four more sitting behind.


Soon after the hearing started, Perry’s lead attorney, Houston-based trial lawyer Tony Buzbee, began parading around in crocodile-skin cowboy boots, clicking a projector presentation as he argued that the special prosecutor had not taken his oath according to the state Constitution.

“That means he cannot act. Game over,” Buzbee said, asking the judge to dismiss the case immediately “so that Gov. Perry can go on about his business.”

He and a colleague also cross-examined two local court clerks — one of whom had to leave her seat next to the judge to testify. Perry’s attorneys accused the clerks of concealing grand jury documents the pair claimed to have misplaced, and questioned why they assigned multiple “cause,” or case, numbers to Perry’s case.

The clerks said they had done so at the behest of supervisors because it was a high-profile case, something they had done only once before in the last 15 years — during the indictment of former Republican House Majority Leader Tom DeLay.


That tidbit set off a flurry of typing by the media, which filled most of the gallery.

Buzbee was incredulous.

“This whole proceeding, and the way it came about, is a comedy of errors. But it’s not funny at all. Special cause numbers for a Republican governor in a very blue county … this is something that shouldn’t go any further than this,” Buzbee said.

Special Prosecutor Michael McCrum, a former federal prosecutor who also wore boots, accused Perry’s attorneys of playing to the media, bullying the clerks and “inventing law” just “to suit Mr. Perry’s situation.”


The charges stem from allegations that Perry used his veto power to threaten and then cut funding to Travis County Dist. Atty. Rosemary Lehmberg, a Democrat who leads the state’s public corruption unit, pressuring her to resign after her arrest for drunk driving last year. Lehmberg had been caught in a parking lot by sheriff’s deputies with an open vodka bottle in the front of her car, pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 45 days in jail.

She was accustomed to investigating powerful Republican lawmakers, including DeLay’s 2005 indictment for violating campaign finance laws, and has so far refused to resign. (DeLay’s conviction was eventually overturned.)

Richardson, a Republican former San Antonio district judge and prosecutor, said he planned to rule by next Thursday. He was appointed by a state district judge to handle the case after another local district judge recused herself.

When the pretrial hearing finally ended, Perry emerged all smiles in a court hallway and defended his veto power.


“As governor, I took an oath to faithfully uphold the Constitution of Texas,” he said. “That same constitution clearly outlines the authority of any governor to veto. I stand behind my authority, and I would do it again.... I stand behind that veto.”

There were no protesters on hand Thursday — pro- or anti-Perry — and the crowd surrounding Perry in the hallway appeared to be mostly reporters.

McCrum, the prosecutor, also spoke with reporters after the hearing and dismissed allegations by Perry and his “army of lawyers” that McCrum was incorrectly sworn in and that clerks concealed documents. The allegations, he said, were “red herrings” designed to grab headlines and “get the attention of the electorate.”

During the hearing, McCrum had repeatedly addressed Perry — the longest-serving governor in Texas history — as “Mr. Perry” rather than “Gov. Perry.”


When asked why, McCrum said, “At this time, he’s James Richard Perry, accused of committing two felonies.”

molly.hennessy-fiske@latimes.com