William Carr – Heroic Deputy or Outlaw?
The annals of the American West are replete with figures whose lives straddled the line between law and lawlessness, individuals who simultaneously upheld justice and operated within the gray areas of a rapidly evolving frontier. Among these enigmatic characters stands William H. "Bill" Carr, a U.S. Deputy Marshal whose story is a tapestry woven with threads of bravery, questionable alliances, and an eventual descent into fugitive status. Was he a dedicated servant of the law, a victim of circumstance, or a rogue element exploiting his badge for personal gain? The answer, much like the man himself, remains shrouded in the mists of time.
Carr’s career in law enforcement began in 1887 when he received his commission as a U.S. Deputy Marshal within the jurisdiction of the Western District Court at Fort Smith, Arkansas – a notorious hub for judicial activity in the untamed West. This initial appointment marked the commencement of a career that would see him operating across multiple jurisdictions, including the Southern District of Indian Territory at Paris, Texas, and the Kansas District Court at Wichita. These were volatile regions, rife with outlaws, land disputes, and the complex legal landscape of Indian Territory, demanding a brand of lawman that was as resourceful as he was resolute.
One of the defining moments in William Carr’s early career came in April 1889 when he was tasked with apprehending Harris Austin, a Chickasaw Indian accused of murder. The encounter quickly escalated beyond a simple arrest. Austin resisted, leading to a violent confrontation in which gunfire erupted. Carr, displaying the unwavering commitment that would become his hallmark, managed to subdue Austin, though not without inflicting multiple wounds upon the accused. Austin’s fate was sealed the following year when he was hanged at Fort Smith, a grim testament to the uncompromising justice of the era.
Later that same year, William Carr faced a different kind of challenge when he encountered a gang of whiskey runners attempting to smuggle their illicit goods across the Red River Bridge into Indian Territory. This incident highlights the constant struggle to maintain order and enforce federal laws in a region where such regulations were often flouted with impunity. The outlaws, upon encountering Carr, quickly retreated back into Texas, but in their haste, they left behind one of their own: a man named Lewis Jackson. In the ensuing confrontation, Carr shot and killed Jackson, a decision that, while perhaps justifiable in the heat of the moment, likely contributed to the growing cloud of controversy that would eventually engulf him.
The year 1892 brought a significant turning point in William Carr’s life, as he, along with three other former deputy marshals, found himself on the wrong side of the law. They were arrested and charged with arson and murder in connection with a fire in Lexington, Indian Territory, that had resulted in a man’s death. These were serious accusations that threatened to unravel Carr’s reputation and career. However, after a period of uncertainty, Carr was eventually cleared of the charges. This exoneration allowed him to return to his duties, and by April 1894, he was back in action, this time alongside Marshal Evitt Nix.
William Carr’s and Marshal Nix’s target was none other than the notorious Doolin-Dalton Gang, operating near the Sacred Heart Mission in the Pottawatomie Reservation. The ensuing gun battle was a brutal affair, leaving Bill Dalton and George "Bitter Creek" Newcomb severely wounded, though they managed to escape. Carr himself was shot three times and left for dead by the outlaws. His survival, however, only added to his growing legend. By this time, Carr had become a figure of considerable renown. The New York Times even ran a feature article on his daring exploits in April 1895, bestowing upon him the moniker "King of the Chickasaws."
Despite his reputation as a fearless and effective lawman, William Carr was also rumored to have maintained friendships with outlaws, a precarious balancing act that would ultimately prove to be his undoing. Among these alleged acquaintances were Will and Bob Christian, two notorious figures who, along with several other outlaws, staged a daring escape from jail in Oklahoma City in June 1895. During the escape, the outlaws killed Chief of Police Milt Jones and wounded the jailer and two innocent bystanders, escalating the situation to a crisis.
The aftermath of the Christian brothers’ escape saw William Carr implicated in assisting the outlaws, a charge that, if proven true, would irrevocably tarnish his reputation and career. While many of Carr’s fellow lawmen believed that Oklahoma County Sheriff C.H. Deford was attempting to deflect blame from his own office’s negligence by accusing Carr, the accusations nevertheless gained traction, and Carr was eventually arrested.
Even under this shadow of suspicion, Carr continued to perform his duties as a U.S. Deputy Marshal. On October 17, 1895, he apprehended four murderers wanted for the killing of John Swilling near Tecumseh, Indian Territory. This act underscores the complexity of Carr’s situation: even while facing serious charges, he continued to uphold the law and bring criminals to justice.
As the investigation into the Christian brothers’ escape deepened, Carr’s friends attempted to help him flee the country, recognizing the perilous situation he was in. However, despite these efforts, Carr was ultimately indicted by a Grand Jury for assisting the outlaws. Faced with the prospect of a lengthy and potentially ruinous trial, Carr raised the $14,000 bond by selling his property and personal possessions. Then, for reasons that remain shrouded in mystery, he skipped his bond and vanished. After that, he was "officially" never heard from again. Some speculated that he fled to Texas, while others believed he remained hidden within the vast expanse of Indian Territory.
In the wake of his disappearance, newspapers of the time attempted to link Carr to various wanted fugitives. In 1896, a Beaver County, Oklahoma Territory newspaper reported that Carr was with Bill Doolin when Doolin attempted to negotiate terms with lawmen and surrender. Later that year, the Guthrie Daily Leader reported a tragic incident: "while playing with an old revolver, the 5-year-old son of Bill Carr, the noted outlaw, shot himself through the stomach, dying in a short time." These reports, while difficult to verify, contributed to the growing perception of Carr as an outlaw and a fugitive from justice.
While Carr remained at large, another man, John Reeves, was charged with aiding the Christian Gang’s escape by secreting guns to them. Reeves was convicted and sentenced to the Kansas penitentiary on December 21, 1896. Yet, despite Reeves’ conviction, William Carr remained a wanted man, his fate uncertain and his reputation in tatters.
The last reported sighting of William Carr occurred on June 1, 1900, when the Tecumseh Republican reported that Dad Feagin had visited Carr, who was using the alias "Bill Evans," about 65 miles east of Shawnee, Oklahoma. Feagin also claimed that Carr was in the company of a former deputy marshal named George Elkins and that Carr had hidden with the Christian brothers in southwest Texas before returning to Oklahoma.
After this unsubstantiated statement, William Carr disappeared from the historical record. Whether he died in hiding, assumed a new identity and lived out his days in obscurity, or met a violent end remains a mystery. His story serves as a compelling reminder of the complexities and moral ambiguities of the Old West, where the line between hero and outlaw was often blurred. Was William Carr a dedicated lawman forced into desperate measures, or was he a rogue element who ultimately betrayed the very principles he swore to uphold? The answer, it seems, is lost to the annals of history.