Journal Notes

It’s a Christmas giveaway featuring some

very badly-behaved women.

Enter now to win five books about women of the Old West who were

wicked to the core.

“In one corner, a coarse-looking female might preside over a roulette-table, and, perhaps, in the central and crowded part of the room a Spanish or Mexican woman would be sitting at Monte, with a cigarette in her lips, which she replaced every few moments by a fresh one.” Author, lecturer, and feminist Eliza Farnham – 1854

Blood spattered across the front of the dark-eyed, brunette gambler Belle Siddon’s dress as she peered into the open wound of a bandit stretched out in front of her. Biting down hard on a rag, the man winced in pain as she gently probed his abdomen with a wire loop. Pausing a moment, she mopped up a stream of blood inching its way across the crude wooden table where he was lying. Two men on either side of the injured patient struggled to keep his arms and legs still as the stern-faced Belle then plunged the loop back into his entrails. “How do you know about gunshots?” one of the rough looking assistants asked. “My late husband was a doctor and I worked with him,” Belle replied. “Is he going to die?” the other man inquired. “Not if I can help it,” Belle said as she removed the wire loop.

To learn more about Belle Siddons and other lady card players read

The Lady Was a Gambler: True Stories of Notorious Women of the Old West.

It’s a Christmas giveaway featuring some

very badly-behaved women.

Enter now to win five books about women of the Old West who were

wicked to the core.

A broad grin spread across Doc Holliday’s thin, unshaven face as he tossed five playing cards facedown into the center of a rustic, wooden table. His eyes followed a petite, gloved hand as it swept a pile of poker chips toward a demure, dark-haired beauty sitting opposite him. Lottie Deno watched the infamous dentist, gambler, and gunfighter lean back in his chair and pour himself a shot of whiskey. Doc’s steely blue eyes met hers and she held his gaze. “You want to lose any more of your money to me or is that it, Doc?” “Deal,” he responded confidently. Lottie did as he asked and in a few short minutes had managed to win another hand.

A crowd of customers at the Bee Hive Saloon in Fort Griffin, Texas, slowly made their way over to the table where Lottie and Doc had squared off. They cheered the cardsharps on and bought them drinks. Most of the time Lottie won the hands. The talented poker players continued on until dawn. When the chips were added up, the lady gambler had acquired more than $30,000 of Holliday’s money.

“If one must gamble, they should settle on three things at the start,” Doc said before drinking down another shot. “And they are?” Lottie inquired. “Decide the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time.” Holliday smoothed down his shirt and coat, adjusted his hat, and nodded politely to the onlookers. “Good evening to you all,” he said as he made his way to the exit. Lottie smiled to herself as she sorted her chips. Holliday sauntered out of the saloon and into the bright morning light.

Historians maintain that it was only natural that Lottie Deno would have grown up to be an expert poker player—her father was a part-time gambler who had taught his daughter everything he knew about cards. She is recognized by many gaming historians as the most talented woman to play five-card draw in the West.

To learn more about badly behaved women on the American frontier read 

The Lady Was A Gambler.

It’s a Christmas giveaway featuring some

very badly-behaved women.

Enter now to win five books about women of the Old West who were

wicked to the core.

Legends has it that “Cattle Kate” (Ella Watson), who was twenty-seven and beginning to show a few signs of wear and tear, told friends she was going to pull up stakes and set up a crib in another town, since Cheyenne was no longer easy pickings.  “There’s no use pulling the wool over my own eyes, for the sad fate is, I’m not a young chicken anymore,” she is supposed to have said.  Her customers were beginning to throw their business to floozies who had come into the wide-open railroad town.  So Cattle Kate moved to Rawlings, a cow town in the Haystack Hills where, except for a few chorus girls who also showed mileage, a favor-selling lady on the decline might still have a chance.  Soon Kate, who was a bosomy brunette with a handsome face, quickly had all the customers she could manage.

There was a hitch, for the cattle market was in a slump and cash money was scarce as hen’s teeth.  But this did not worry Kate.  She would simply homestead a grassland quarter-section, and stock it with mavericks which she would accept from her men in place of cash.  “When those little critters fatten up, I’ll get a nice price for them, you can bet on that,” she is reported to have said.  It was a sound idea, though in the end Kate paid for her actions with her life.

But the legend of Cattle Kate was created in the editorial room of the Cheyenne Leader for the benefit of the Wyoming Stock Growers’ Association.  Almost overnight, they transformed the real Ella Watson into the infamous woman bandit who killed one husband plus various other men, and had stolen more cattle than any man in the West.

To learn more about badly behaved women on the American frontier read Wicked Women:

Notorious, Mischievous, and Wayward Ladies from the Old West.

It’s a Christmas giveaway featuring some very badly-behaved women. 

Enter now to win five books about women of the Old West who were

wicked to the core.

The stage driver slammed his foot against the brake lever and hauled back on the reins, yanking the team to a jerking, but quick halt.  He stared, jaw agape, into the steady barrels of a Navy .36 and a Colt .45.

Behind the guns stood a hefty man twirling a black handlebar mustache and another figure partially hidden under a large white sombrero.  A figure who the driver thought was pretty small built for a man.

“Raise ‘em,” barked the mustached man.

“Higher up,” echoed the strange figure under the sombrero.  It was the voice that did it.  The driver instantly recognized Pearl Hart, who had become widely known for her carryings on in those parts around Florence, Arizona in 1899.

Before the day was out, she would be known throughout Arizona and much of the country as “the daring lady bandit,” object of a great posse chase in a West that had almost forgotten how.

Unfortunately for young but hardened Pearl, then about twenty-seven-years-old, she and her sidekick, a hardly successful miner named Joe Boot, never knew how to make it as outlaws.

The holdup itself was a vast success, mainly because stages had long before decided shotgun guards were unnecessary.

Three passengers untangled themselves from the heap in which the lurching stop had thrown them and climbed fearfully from the stage.  A short fat man who surrendered $390 into a sack held by the lady road agent, a “dude with his hair parted in the middle (worth $36) and a pigtailed Chinese man,” who had just $5 to contribute when Pearl demanded, “Shell out!”

Then Pearl put on the first of her “road agent” performances that in subsequent months were to make her name famous across the land:  She swaggered back and forth in front of the trembling passengers, glaring and sneering at them.

To learn more about badly behaved women on the American frontier read Wicked Women: 

Notorious, Mischievous, and Wayward Ladies from the Old West.

Enter now to win a copy of the Will Rogers Medallion Award winning book

The Trials of Annie Oakley

Three dozen, fresh-faced young men jockeyed for position behind a row of windows on a train leaving Poughkeepsie, New York, bound for Camp Mills on Long Island. The new Army recruits waved goodbye to those on the railroad platform; they wore happy expressions and cheered as the car lurched forward. The men were excited and blissfully naïve about the journey ahead of them. Family and friends on the platform offered last minute farewells as the train slowly began to move ahead. Some people cried as the vehicle left the station and blew kisses to the courageous souls who had answered the call to serve their country when America announced it would join Britain, France, and Russia to fight in World War I.

The United States entered the war on April 6, 1917, and by the end of that same month thousands of men had eagerly flooded recruiting stations, enlisted in the Army and Navy and promised to defend the nation in time of peril.

On July 6, 1917, newspapers and unofficial dispatches from Canadian army headquarters in Europe documented when America went into battle for the first time during the World War. A young Texan who had traveled to Ontario to enlist had the honor of being the first to carry the American flag in the European war. He was carrying the Stars and Stripes on his bayonet when he was wounded and subsequently transported to a medical unit.

According to the July 20, 1917, edition of the Democrat and Chronicle News the Texan’s brave action prompted even more patriotic men to join a branch of the service. Men did not have a moratorium on devotion to country. Women also wanted to do their part. Annie Oakley was among them. From the time the Spanish American War began in 1898, Annie had desired to recruit and train women to be expert shots and fight for the United States. She offered her unique services to President William McKinley.

“Dear Sir,” her letter dated April 5, 1898, began, “I for one feel confident that your good judgment will carry America safely through without war. But in case of such an event I am ready to place a company of fifty lady sharp shooters at your disposal. Every one of them will be an American and as they will furnish their own arms and ammunition will be little if any expense to the government. Very Truly, Annie Oakley.”

President McKinley politely declined her office, but Annie never abandoned the idea. More than nineteen years after the initial proposal, Annie again offered to raise a regiment of women volunteers to fight. She received more than 1,000 letters from women throughout the United States anxious to join the regiment. Three thousand women had participated in Annie’s shooting school in Pinehurst, North Carolina, during the 1916-1917. If necessary, she could call on the best students from her classes to take part in the program. Many of the women were willing to serve as well.

To learn more about Annie Oakley read

The Trials of Annie Oakley by Howard Kazanjian and Chris Enss

Enter now for a chance to win a copy of

the Will Rogers Medallion Award winning book

The Trials of Annie Oakley.

A row of ten, smartly dressed women stood side by side carefully scanning the horizon. Each was holding a rifle and waiting patiently for the instructor to give her directions. A genteel, smiling Annie Oakley stepped forward carrying her own weapon. A handful of ladies who had arranged to take shooting lessons from the famous markswoman stood near the side entrance of the firearms school in Pinehurst, North Carolina, anxiously awaiting the opportunity to draw a bead on a target and fire their guns.

Shooting at clay targets a few inches wide as they flew past at fast speed and actually hitting them was a thrill like none other. Annie had assured her students of that fact. Trap shooting involved speed, accuracy, and eye-hand coordination, something Annie had in abundance. For years she had extolled the virtues of trapshooting and was proof it could be done for pure enjoyment or competition. She reminded her class to keep both eyes opened, be aware of the position of their bodies while holding their .22- caliber shotguns, keep their cheek glued to the stock, point, and shoot.

KaBang! Kabang! Kabang! The weapons rang out in succession. The women were thrilled that their guns fired without incident and were excited to try again. Annie had warned them the sport could be addictive once they took the plunge.

From the time the United States entered World War I in early 1917 to November 1918, Annie had instructed more than 4,000 men and women on how to shoot. For many women, the time learning how to use a firearm led to regular participation in the sport of trapshooting. For many men the instruction helped them prepare for battle. Annie’s desire to serve her country in combat was realized through the soldiers who admired how she used a gun and employed what she taught in battle.

The Great War ended at the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918. Annie Oakley was fifty-eight years old. Although she had appeared in numerous exhibitions at cantonments throughout the east and demonstrated her skill to thousands of recruits bound for Europe to fight, many people wrote letters to the author of a syndicated column called “Trap, Gun and Rod,” hoping to find out what became of the once popular markswoman. “Is she still living,” a reader in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, asked? “If so, how old would she be?”

“Annie Oakley (Mrs. Frank Butler) is very much alive and very much active in shooting game,” responded reporter Tom Marshall. “The last time I saw her shoot she performed with the old-time vim and accuracy.”

If Annie had ever forgotten her age, newspapers across the country reminded her. An article that appeared in the January 3, 1919, Wilmington, Delaware, newspaper The Morning News told of an occasion where Annie’s age was the topic of conversation. It was a gathering of New York sportswriters. After much speculation, the writers were unable to agree on how old the sharpshooter was and couldn’t guess what the future held for the talented woman. The author of The Morning News article decided to take the questions to the source.

Annie was not ashamed to admit her age or to share her future plans. “On my sixtieth birthday next November, I will make my farewell appearance before the American public in an exhibition of shooting with the revolver, rifle, and shotgun,” she informed the reporter. “The exhibition will be in New York. When I begin to make plans for this shoot you will know that I am nearing the three-score of year’s mark – also that it will be the final appearance of Annie Oakley in public as a shooter.”

To learn more about the famous sure shot read

The Trials of Annie Oakley.

Enter now to win a copy of the Will Rogers Medallion Award winning book

The Trials of Annie Oakley

Annie Oakley was born Annie Moses on August 13, 1860, in Darke County, Ohio.  Her father’s untimely death when she was still a child forced Annie to find work to help support her seven brothers and sisters and their mother.

Annie first learned to hunt with a rifle when she was eight.  She used her natural markswoman ability to provide food for the evening meals.  She became such a good shot she was hired on by a merchant to supply his store with fresh game.  By the time Annie turned nine, she was a major provider for her family.

A shooting match between Annie and Western showman Frank Butler in 1875 changed her life forever.  The challenge was for each marksman to shoot twenty-five clay pigeons.  Frank hit twenty-four of the twenty-five targets.  Annie hit all of them.

Frank was so taken by the young woman’s expertise and femininity that he invited her to come and see him perform in one of his Western programs.  She was impressed with his kindness and proficiency with a weapon.  After a short time, their mutual fondness and admiration blossomed into love.  They were married on June 22, 1876.

Frank and Annie pooled their talents and took their shooting know-how on the road.  The two gave exhibitions at theaters across the country.  By this time Annie had changed her name to Oakley.  She decided on that name because she’d liked the sound of it ever since her sister told her of the Ohio district with the same handle.

Butler and Oakley were well received wherever they performed.  People were not only amazed at the teenager’s shooting but admired the pluck of a girl who could hold a coin steady until it was shot from her fingers.  By December of 1884 Frank and Anne had become the top shooting act in the country.

To learn more about Annie Oakley and her life with Frank Butler read

The Trials of Annie Oakley.

Enter now to win a copy of the Will Rogers Medallion Award Winning Book

The Trials of Annie Oakley

On August 8, 1903, a drifter named Charles Curtis made his way to the Harrison Street Police Station in Chicago and filed a complaint to Justice of the Peace John R. Caverly about a woman named Little Cody. Curtis had befriended the woman he supposed was down on her luck and provided her a place to stay for a few days. During her visit with Charles, she stole a pair of pants and generally made herself a nuisance. The complaint charged her with having “made an improper noise, riot, and disturbance.” A warrant for the woman’s arrest was issued, and “Little Cody” was arrested and escorted to jail. The fee she was to pay was $100. She didn’t have the money to give the court and was to be held until she came up with the funds.

The prisoner did not give the clerks or the jail matrons a difficult time. She was chatty during the intake process, but polite. Her appearance was slovenly, clothes were torn and unwashed, and she was obviously under the influence of drugs. She told officials at the facility about her work as a crack rifle shot and of the days, she spent with Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West show. The curious matron couldn’t help but pursue the matter further. “You are the noted Annie Oakley, I guess.” The woman proudly announced that she was indeed the famed sure shot.

Charles Curtis came to visit the woman once she was behind bars and seeing her distressed state decided not to press charges.

When arraigned before the justice on Monday morning August 10, the police officer who had booked her into jail stated she was the famous Annie Oakley who had exhibited with Buffalo Bill Cody. The officer informed the court that if she was allowed to go free, she would only spread disease and implored the judge to send her to a women’s asylum where she could be taken care of. The judge agreed and instructed the court to send the woman to Bridewell Prison Farm. Her fine was reduced to $25.

After her day in court, she was taken downstairs to the lock up again. A number of people were waiting for her to arrive so they could talk with her. One of those individuals was George W. Pratt, a reporter for the Chicago American. Pratt had visited Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show many times and was acquainted with several acts associated with the program. He wanted to get the woman’s full story and spent hours with her asking questions about what brought her to such a lowly state. Her answers contained specific information about who performed in Cody’s shows with her, when, and the exhilarating experience she had at the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893. Pratt and other reporters were convinced this woman was the real Annie Oakley. Pratt wrote a story about his first-hand experience with the accused. As many reporters did at that time, he elaborated and sensationalized the account.

To learn more about the famous sure shot read

The Trials of Annie Oakley

Enter now to win the Will Rogers Medallion Award winning book

The Trials of Annie Oakley

Annie Oakley burst into the Wild West Show’s arena in Louisville, Kentucky, atop a brown and white pony.  She waved and blew kisses at the excited audience as she spurred her ride around a straw barrier at a high lope.  The cowboy just ahead of her paced her to a slower ride and began tossing balls into the air.  She raised her rifle to her shoulders.  The balls burst as fast as he could throw them.

Putting her gun away for the moment, she quickly dismounted and raced over to a table at the far end of the grounds.  Another cowboy juggling glass balls was waiting for her.  Annie jumped over the gun table, scooped up a weapon just as the cowboy tossed up four balls.  Two balls disappeared.  She picked up another gun.  The other two balls blew apart.  The timid women in the audience who screamed with fright at the initial sound of the noisy firearms broke into round and round of applause.

Annie bowed to the delighted crowd and searched the table for the prop she used in her most famous stunt, The Mirror Trick.  Using a knife blade for a mirror, Annie then pointed her gun over her shoulder.  Frank Butler, Annie’s husband, stood off in the distance behind her holding up an ace of spades.  After sighting the card in the knife blade, she squeezed the trigger.  The gun barked.  A hole appeared where the spade had been in the center of the card.

The crowd burst into cheers.  Annie smiled, swung aboard her horse, and hurried out of the arena.  As she rode past Buffalo Bill Cody, he shouted, “Sharp shooting, Missy!”

The Sioux Indian chief Sitting Bull greeted the 5-foot-tall performer backstage.  Impressed with her skill and aim, the warrior proudly called her Little Sure Shot.  Sitting Bull believed Annie Oakley to be possessed by the Good Spirit.  “No one can hurt her,” he told friends.  “Only one who was super naturally blessed could be such a dead shot.”

To learn more about Annie’s life and shooting ability read

The Trails of Annie Oakley

Enter now to win a copy of the

Will Rogers Medallion Award Winning Book

The Trials of Annie Oakley.

Fans of Annie Oakley sought the famous shooter out after every performance.  In addition to granting requests for autographs, she took time to speak with her followers who wanted to know all about her.  As a courtesy to her devotees, she supplied them with a short list of facts about herself.

Answers to Ten Questions I Am Asked Every Day.

I was born in Woodland, Ohio.

I learned to shoot in the field.

I do not think I inherited my love of firearms from my parents, for they were Quakers, and were very much opposed to my using such weapons.

Having traveled in fourteen countries, and having hunted in almost all of them, I have shot nearly all kinds of game.

While I love to shoot in the field, I care very little for exhibition shooting, and only do it as a matter of business.

I never use the word “champion” in connection with my name and always request my friends not to address me as such.

My guns weigh about six pounds each and are of many different makes.  There is no such thing as the best gun maker.  The best gun is the gun that best fits the shooter.

I use pistols, rifles and shotguns.  I do not believe in using cheap guns.  To me, the use of a cheap gun is like driving Star Pointer with a clothes line – you never know when the line is going to give way.

I like pigeon shooting when the birds are first-class flyers, but I am very much opposed to shooting pigeons from the trap during the three summer months.

I use 39 grains of Schultz Smokeless Powder and one ounce of shot, loaded in the U.M.C. Smokeless shells.  I don’t say that this is the only load, but it is good enough for me.

To learn more about Annie Oakley and the shooting school she ran in Pinehurst, North Carolina, read

The Trials of Annie Oakley.