Known infamously as “The Law West of the Pecos,” Judge Roy Bean carved out a legendary, albeit controversial, niche in the annals of the American Old West. This colorful figure, whose name is synonymous with rough-and-ready frontier justice, held court in his saloon in Langtry, Texas, establishing a unique brand of law that has captivated imaginations for generations. Phantly Roy Bean, Jr. was born into an impoverished family in Mason County, Kentucky, around 1825, the youngest of three sons to Phantly Roy and Anna Henderson Gore Bean.
At the tender age of 15, Roy Bean left his Kentucky home, following his older brothers westward in search of opportunity. Alongside his brother Sam, he joined a wagon train bound for New Mexico, eventually crossing the Rio Grande to establish a trading post in Chihuahua, Mexico, by 1848. His early life was marked by frequent brushes with the law; after a fatal altercation with a local man in Mexico, Bean fled to San Diego, California, where he reunited with his brother Joshua. It was in San Diego, on February 24, 1852, that Bean engaged in a horseback duel with a Scotsman named Collins, resulting in Collins being shot in the arm. Both men were arrested, but Bean, admired by local women, received gifts and visits during his six-week incarceration. Resourceful and cunning, he escaped on April 17 by using knives, smuggled in tamales by an admirer, to dig through his cell wall.
Early Wanderings and Close Calls
Bean’s journey then took him to San Gabriel, California, where his brother Joshua owned the Headquarters saloon. Following Joshua’s death in November 1852, Roy inherited the establishment and continued its operation. His time there was brief but impactful, marked by another violent episode when he killed a Mexican official during an argument over a woman. Friends of the deceased official sought revenge, lynching Bean and leaving him for dead. Miraculously, he was saved by the very woman who had instigated the dispute, though he bore a permanent rope burn on his neck, a constant reminder of his near-fatal encounter.
Soon after, Bean found himself back in New Mexico, living once more with his brother Sam, who had become the sheriff in Mesilla. The advent of the Civil War saw Bean joining the Texas army, hauling supplies for the Confederates and residing in San Antonio. On October 28, 1866, he married 18-year-old Virginia Chavez, a union that was far from harmonious. A year into their marriage, Bean was arrested for aggravated assault on his wife. Despite their tumultuous relationship, the couple eventually had four children. For the next decade, the family lived in a Mexican slum on South Flores Street in San Antonio, an area that became known as ‘Beanville.’ During this period, Bean dabbled in various unsuccessful entrepreneurial ventures, including being a teamster, saloon operator, and dairy businessman, developing a reputation for circumventing creditors, business rivals, and the law.
Setting Up Shop: The Genesis of ‘The Law West of the Pecos’
By the early 1880s, his marriage had ended, and Judge Roy Bean sold his possessions, leaving San Antonio to wander among the railroad camps of West Texas. He eventually settled near the Pecos River, an area teeming with activity due to the Southern Pacific Railroad’s ambitious efforts to complete its transcontinental route. A construction camp, aptly named Vinegarroon for a local scorpion that emitted a vinegar-like odor, was established in 1881. This temporary city housed thousands of railroad workers, and Bean quickly seized the opportunity to open a small saloon.
The lawless nature of this frontier region was vividly described by Texas Ranger Captain T. L. Oglesby in a July 5, 1882, note to General King: “There is the worst lot of roughs, gamblers, robbers, and pickpockets, collected here I ever saw…” With the nearest court 200 miles away in Fort Stockton, Oglesby’s plea for a magistrate opened the door for Roy Bean. On August 2, 1882, Bean volunteered for the position and became the sole ‘legal authority’ in the area. Operating his ‘justice’ from his tent saloon in Vinegarroon, he swiftly proclaimed himself “The Only Law West of the Pecos.”
Eccentric Justice and the Jersey Lilly Saloon
From the outset, Bean proved to be an unusual judge. One of his initial judicial acts was to shoot up the saloon of a Jewish competitor. His courtroom was his saloon, and his legal library consisted of a single law book: the 1879 edition of the Revised Statutes of Texas. His methods were unorthodox and his rulings final. During a bridge collapse at Vinegarroon that caused ten workers to fall, Bean, riding a mule to the scene, pronounced all ten dead, even though only seven had perished. When questioned, he reasoned the others would soon die, and he didn’t want to make the trip twice. Fortunately, the three ‘dead’ men survived.
By December 1882, the railroad bridge was complete, and Vinegarroon was abandoned. Bean moved northwest to the railroad camp of Eagle Nest, later renamed Langtry. There, he again established a tent saloon on railroad land, much to the annoyance of Cezario Torres, who owned most of the adjacent property. He later built a wooden saloon, which he named the “Jersey Lilly” after the renowned British stage actress, Lillie Langtry, despite the town being named after railroad man George Langtry. This saloon served as both his headquarters and courtroom, where his eccentric judicial antics continued.
Notable Judicial Antics
- The Dead Cowboy: When a dead cowboy was found with $40 and a six-gun, Bean charged the corpse with carrying a concealed weapon and fined it the $40.
- The Chinaman Ruling: In a case where an Irishman, Paddy O’Rourke, was accused of shooting a Chinese laborer, a mob of 200 angry Irishmen threatened to lynch Bean if O’Rourke was not freed. Bean, ever the pragmatist, ruled that while homicide was the killing of a human being, he could find “no law against killing a Chinaman.” The case was dismissed.
- Concealed Weapons: Despite Texas Ranger protests, Bean considered forbidding weapons preposterous. He dismissed a concealed weapon charge with this logic: “If he was standing still when he was arrested, he wasn’t carrying weapons because he wasn’t going anywhere. And, if he was not standing still, he was traveling, and it’s legal for travelers to carry weapons. Case dismissed.”
Jurors for his cases were often selected from his best bar customers, and Bean permitted no hung juries or appeals. Lacking a jail in Langtry, cases were settled by fines, usually amounting to whatever the accused had on them. These collected fines were never sent to the state treasury; instead, Judge Roy Bean pocketed the cash. Although later romanticized as a “hanging judge,” Bean only sentenced two men to hang, one of whom escaped. Horse thieves, often condemned to the gallows elsewhere, were frequently released by Bean if they returned the horses and paid a fine. He also illicitly granted divorces and performed numerous marriages, often concluding ceremonies with the memorable phrase, “and may God have mercy on your souls.”
Later Years and Lasting Legacy
Bean was defeated in the 1886 election, but a new precinct created in Val Verde County the following year saw him reappointed as justice of the peace. He continued to be elected until 1896, when he was finally defeated. True to form, he refused to surrender his official seal and law book, continuing to try all cases north of the railroad tracks.
In 1896, Bean garnered national headlines by organizing a heavyweight boxing match between Robert James Fitzsimmons and Peter Maher. Since boxing was outlawed in Texas, he shrewdly scheduled the fight on a sandbar on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande, just south of Langtry. He arranged for the press, spectators, and Texas Rangers to travel by train from El Paso to Langtry. Fitzsimmons knocked Maher out in 95 seconds, claiming the heavyweight title, further cementing Bean’s reputation for audacity.
For years, Bean boasted of his acquaintance with Miss Lillie Langtry, hoping to meet her one day. He even named his home behind the saloon the “Opera House” in anticipation of her visit. Though they never met, he corresponded with her, and she allegedly sent him two pistols, which he treasured. He also falsely claimed credit for naming Langtry after her. As he aged, Bean spent his days on his porch, shotgun in hand, drinking and regaling visitors with tales. He was also known to help the local poor, a lesser-known facet of his complex character.
Judge Roy Bean died in his saloon on March 16, 1903, from lung and heart ailments, never fulfilling his dream of meeting Lillie Langtry. He was initially buried in Westlawn Cemetery in Del Rio, Texas, but due to the overwhelming number of visitors, he and his son, Samuel, were later re-interred behind the Whitehead Memorial Museum in Langtry.
Almost a year after his death, Lillie Langtry finally visited his old home. En route from New Orleans to Los Angeles, she stopped in Langtry to hear the townspeople’s stories of the legendary judge, later writing, “It was a short visit, but an unforgettable one.” Today, the Jersey Lilly Saloon, his home, and a museum stand as a testament to the enduring legend of Judge Roy Bean in Langtry, Texas.
Conclusion
Judge Roy Bean remains one of the most enigmatic and celebrated figures of the American Old West. His unique brand of justice, dispensed from a saloon bar stool, was a reflection of the harsh realities and fluid legal landscape of the Texas frontier. While his methods were often crude and his rulings unconventional, he brought a semblance of order to a lawless land, earning him the unforgettable title of “The Law West of the Pecos.” His story is a vibrant chapter in Texas history, demonstrating how one man’s audacity and wit could shape a community and forge an enduring legend.
