American History Tellers - Frontier Legends | Annie Oakley | 5

Episode Date: August 19, 2026

As a young girl in Ohio, Annie Oakley learned to hunt game to keep her impoverished family fed. By the time she was a teenager she’d grown skilled enough to easily beat a traveling sharpshooter named Frank Butler in a public shooting match – and win his heart in the process. The two soon married, and in 1885 Oakley joined Buffalo Bill's Wild West show, becoming an international sensation and an emblem of frontier womanhood, all while carefully shaping her own image. But after nearly two decades as a performer, a newspaper scandal would draw her into a legal battle to clear her name.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Audible subscribers can binge new seasons of American history tellers early and ad for you right now. Join Audible in the Audible app or by subscribing on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's November 1875 in Cincinnati, Ohio. You're a traveling sharpshooter, and for several months now, you've been making your way across the Midwest Vaudible circuit. If there's a crowd and prize money involved, you'll take part in just about anything that involves a gun, from trick-shot displays to exhibitions to shooting matters. Today, you're at the local shooting hill, where you're expecting to impress the crowd by skillfully shooting down clay pigeons more quickly and accurately than your opponent before collecting your

winnings and moving on. Your match is about to start, so you find a seat on a nearby bench and begin methodically cleaning your shotgun. You notice a man approaching, and as he gets closer, you recognize him as Jack Frost, a local hotel owner and the organizer of today's event. He claps his hands together, excited for the match. he set up for you. Oh, how are he feeling? Nervous? Jack, I've never lost a shooting match of my life. Well, there's a first time for everything, you know? Not today. You stand and confidently snap the barrel of the shotgun clothes. Honestly, I still can't believe you're offering me $100 for this match. That's enough for me to keep traveling for another six months. Well, that's assuming if you win,

don't underestimate me. These local boys don't stand a chance. Oh, sounds like your audience is awaiting. You straighten your vest and start walking in the direction of the crowd. Oh, by the way, your opponent, it's not a local boy. You stand and look at him. His grin worries you. Oh, yeah, who is it then? Oh, you'll see. You arrive at the other side of the hill where hundreds of people are gathered. Across the way, you see a young girl in a plain dress, no more than five feet tall with a shotgun in her hand. And who's that?

That, my friend, is your competition. She can't be more than 15 years old, no taller than an apple barrel. How's she even going to lift her gun? Are you joking me? I never joke when it comes to money. Frost pats you on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. You turn back to the girl trying to shake off your confusion. You give her a polite nod as you step up to take the first shot.

As the clay pigeon is released, you aim your shotgun high and pull the trigger, easily managing to hit it. Then you step back. The next clay pigeon soars through the first. air and you watch as the girl raises her shotgun and hits it with a perfect shot. You're surprised at how effortlessly she handles her weapon, but then just chalk it up to beginner's luck. Still, as the contest proceeds, the girl hits her target again and again, and you have to admit, not only is she incredibly accurate, she's actually quicker than you. The flutter of nerves seizes you as you

realize. You're about to lose to a teenage girl, but at the same time, you find her captivating. You've never seen anyone like her, and before long, you're no longer worried about the prize money. You're more interested in getting to know this remarkable young sharpshooter. Police in Irvine, California, are investigating the double murder of a young couple in the parking lot of their apartment complex. A double homicide grabs the public's attention by the throat. We have identified Christopher Dorner as a suspect in this double homicide. A former cop, and still in the loose. Considered armed and extremely dangerous.

And scariest of all, he left something behind. A particular interest is a multi-page manifesto. This manifesto on Facebook is 11 pages long. Trace, this manifesto from this suspect who's targeting cops, it's stunning. Listen to the show, The New Yorker calls one of the best podcasts of the summer. Dan Tiberski's Manifesto. And I tell you, this manifesto, it scares a hell out of me. Listen to Dan Tiberski's Manifesto, wherever you get your podcasts,

Orb into the entire series right now, only with Audible. From Audible Originals, I'm Lindsay Graham, and this is American History Tellers, Our History, Your Story. On a cold November day in Cincinnati, Ohio, a precocious young woman effortlessly outshot her unsuspecting opponent, the older professional marksman Frank Butler. She'd later be known to the world as Annie Oakley, and from that day forward, the trajectory of her life would change forever. Oakley was born into poverty.

in rural Ohio, and as a young girl, she had picked up her father's gun to hunt and help support the family. But after the shooting match with Frank Butler, she discovered that people would pay to see her shoot. Soon, Annie Oakley was selling out tickets wherever she went. The public was fascinated by her, a young woman who defied convention and could shoot better than any man. But Oakley's legendary status was a product of more than just her marksmanship. She also knew how to sell herself and did it well. In time, the real Annie faded into the background, overshadowed by the persona she'd crafted for the masses, and in the process she became one of the last enduring symbols of the Wild West, even as that mythic place was fading into the past.

This is episode five in our five-part series on Frontier Legends, Annie Oakley. Annie Oakley was born Phoebe Ann Moses in 1860 in Western Ohio. Her parents, Jacob and Susan, were devout Quakers, who had come to Ohio from Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania to farm their own land. Annie was their fourth daughter, and like all her siblings, she helped around the farm to earn her keep. But unlike her older sisters, Annie didn't care much for household chores. Still, her family was poor, which meant that they had to supplement their farming by hunting, and extra eyes in the woods were always helpful. So as early as five years old, Annie went out hunting with her father, Jacob, and he taught her how to trap small animals for food.

That same year in the winter of 1865, Annie's father went into town to buy supplies and got caught in a blizzard coming home. It was midnight when he returned, and by then he was so cold that his hands were frozen solid. Three months later, at the age of 67, he died, leaving his wife Susan and their seven children with practically nothing. Newly widowed, Susan moved her large family into a smaller home where they struggle to make ends meet. Annie tried to trap like her father had shown her, but she couldn't catch enough to feed her large family. So one day, when she was eight, she went into the living room where her father's old rifle was mounted above the fireplace. She took it down, then found the gunpowder, but she didn't know how much she was supposed to use, so she simply stuffed as much as she could

into the barrel of the gun. Then she went outside and balanced the rifle along the railing of the family's porch. In the yard, she saw a rabbit. She squinted with one eye, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The kickback was so intense that the butt of the gun hit her square in the nose. She yelped in pain, but it was worth it. She had gotten a clean headshot, meaning the rest of the meat could be preserved for food. On her very first shot, she proved she was unnatural, and Annie soon came to love hunting. Her mother was appalled at the idea of her daughter shooting animals, but no matter what Susan said, Annie kept at it, often skipping school to go quail shooting. But money was still tight, and when Annie was about 10, her mother made the painful decision to send some of the children,

including Annie, to live with other people. So Annie went to live with a couple who had a newborn and needed help with child care. But Annie soon discovered that in addition to watching the baby, she was expected to cook and clean, milk the cows, feed the farm animals, pump water, and hunt and trap game. The couple treated Annie so terribly that she would later refer to them simply as the wolves. And their treatment of her only got worse as time went on. As well as working her half to death, they were physically abusive, locking her in closets and once throwing her outside and freezing temperatures after she fell asleep while mending clothes. According to Annie, she felt like she was their slave. Unable to take it any longer, when she was 12 years old, Annie ran away from the

wolves and went to the country poorhouse where their superintendent and his wife took her in. When the Wolves came looking for her, the superintendent turned them away, and Annie vowed never again to allow herself to feel so helpless. About three years later, when Annie was 15, she returned home to her mother. Susan had remarried, but the family was still desperately poor. To help her family get by, Annie once again picked up her father's old rifle and went into the woods to hunt. As a child, she enjoyed hunting as a hobby, but now it became a way of life. She studied the habits of different animals and learned where she could find them. She became especially adept at shooting quail, no easy feet because of their small size and speed, but she enjoyed

the challenge. She preferred taking her shot when her target was on the move, later saying that she wanted to at least give the animals a fighting chance. And as a bonus, it greatly improved her hand-eye coordination, leading her to develop lightning-fast reflexes. Soon, Annie was bagging so many quail that her family couldn't possibly eat them all, so she decided to try to another way to earn her keep. Imagine it's just after dawn in 1875 in Greenfield, Ohio. You're a grocer, and you're restocking the shelves at your store, getting ready to open for the day.

You've just finished arranging a display of canned peas when you hear a knock on the door. We're closed. We don't open for another hour. I said we're closed. You sigh as you walk to the front of the store, annoyed. But outside you see a young girl. Skinny as a rail and barely big enough to be carrying the large. burlap sack she has slung over her shoulder. She motioned for you to open the door.

Miss, we're not open yet. Come back in an hour. But, sir, you don't remember me? I'm Annie Moses. You told me last week that I could come back with whatever I managed to shoot in the woods. You squinted at her. Oh, right. A little Annie Moses. I figured you're kidding around about that. I didn't think a girl your age would actually be serious about hunting anything. Annie just smiles and drops the heavy burlap sack at your feet. Well, sir, I was dead serious. and here's the best game you'll find in the county. You shot all this yourself? Yes, sir. Where's your father?

He passed a few years ago. Oh, my condolences. It's all right. He taught me a little before he died. After that, I taught myself. You crouched down and put a hand on her shoulder. You don't want to hurt her feelings. She is just a little girl, after all. Well, listen, Annie, I already buy from experienced men.

Hunters who've been doing this for 20 years. It's nothing against you. Just look at what I brought. Before you can stop her, she doesn't. unties the second. She reaches inside and pulls out a quail. The bird is spotless, except for a tiny hole through its head. See, I didn't even use bird shot. You shot that with a rifle. Yes, sir? Well, lucky shot, then. No, sir. Every single one of them is the same. You glance into the bag to confirm. Well, I'll be darned. She's telling the truth. Every bird in the bag is a perfect kill.

She's not just a talented hunter. She's a bona fide sharpshooter. Well, most hunters ruin half the meat, but this, the hotels in Cincinnati are going to be fighting each other for birds like these. So you'll buy them? I'll take the whole lot. And if I bring you more? Annie, if you bring me game this clean, I'll buy every piece you haul through the door. Thank you, sir. I won't let you down. You bitter goodbye so you can finish getting ready for the day. But you have a real pep in your step.

This girl has just opened a whole new market to you. If you're right, the Cincinnati hoteliers will be banging down your door for her expertly shot game. After presenting a local grocer with her goods, Annie was soon making enough money to pay off her mother's mortgage, an accomplishment she was incredibly proud of, and it made it official. Annie was now the family breadwinner, earning her living with a gun. One of the hotel owners in Cincinnati who bought Annie's game was a man named Jack Frost. He was so impressed with Annie's skills that later he set up a shooting match between her and a professional sharpshooter named Frank Butler. Butler, an Irish immigrant in his mid-20s, was just starting to make a name for

himself as a marksman. And when Frost first proposed the match, Butler balked at the idea that anyone could out-shoot him. Still, he agreed to the challenge and planned to easily walk away with a $100 prize. Butler was surprised to learn that his opponent would be a young girl. And as they began to shoot, he quickly noticed Annie's remarkable skill. In the end, she managed 25 shots to his 24, beating him fair and square. For most, a loss like that would have been humiliating, but Butler barely seemed to notice. By the time the match was over, he was so smitten with Annie that he didn't care he'd lost. Instead, Butler immediately began courting her. She liked his French poodle, George, so Butler flirted by sending her letters he claimed were

signed by the dog. Before long, Butler's humorous approach had won her over, and they were married a year after they met in 1876, when Annie was 16 and Butler was 26. For the next six years, they traveled across the country while Butler performed on the Vaughnville circuit. But despite Annie's obvious prowess with a gun, Butler already had a partner for his act, so Annie remained behind the scenes. But that all changed one day in 1882 when Butler's partner fell ill and Annie stepped in to help with the show. Initially, she just stood in as Butler's assistant holding targets for him. But although she was now 22 years old, her small stature and delicate features meant that to the audience, she still looked like a little

girl. But even with Annie acting just as his assistant, for some reason that night Butler was thrown off his usual game and kept missing shots. Finally, a spectator heckled him, shouting to let Annie shoot instead. Knowing his wife's hidden talents, Butler agreed, and Annie stepped up. No one in the audience expected much of her, but then she hit one target, then another and another. The crowd whooped and hollered, eating it up as she hit every target every time. Butler knew a good thing when he saw it, and he soon got rid of his old partner and instead started touring with Annie as the other half of his act. Embracing her new role as a performer, she decided to adopt a stage name, eventually landing on the one she liked most.

Annie Oakley. And with her new name would come an entirely new persona. Oakley was determined to shed her poor country girl past and become a new woman. But reinventing herself wouldn't be as simple as picking up a shotgun and showing off her trick shots. She would have to convince the public that she was more than just a girl fooling around with a gun. She was ready to make her mark on the world. During World War II, New York communist Julius Rosenberg began spying for the Soviet Union. he was persuading other Americans to betray their country as well. But when his wife's brother joined the Manhattan Project, Julius targeted him as a valuable new recruit and inadvertently set the

stage for the ultimate betrayal. Hi, I'm Lindsay Graham, host of Audubles' original show American Scandal. We bring to life some of the biggest controversies in U.S. history, presidential lies, environmental disasters, corporate fraud. In our latest series, two young New Yorkers meet and fall in love, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg's commitment to each other, is matched only by their commitment to communism, and the couple risks everything to help the Soviet Union develop an atomic bomb. But when they're uncovered, they have to make an impossible choice about where their loyalty truly lies.

Follow American Scandal wherever you get your podcasts. Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of American Scandal, the Rosenberg's, ad-free right now. Join Audible today by downloading the Audible app. Imagine you're reading Pride and Prejudice, except you're not reading it. Harris Dickinson and Marissa Abella are reading it to you on Audible. Her barbs sting you.

His coldness sends a shiver up your spine. Your heart aches. Your ears burn. You yearn for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy to profess their undying love for one another. You can't bear it any longer. Well, maybe a chapter longer. Performance is so good, you'll give love a second chance. Audible.

Stories that speak to you. By the mid-1880s, Annie Oakley had eclipsed. her husband, Frank Butler, and become the star of their show. Even though she and Butler shared equal billing, Oakley was the one who really knew how to play to a crowd, endearing herself to audiences as they traveled the country on the vaudeville circuit. Oakley was determined to perform on her own terms. While many women in vaudeville shows appeared in scantily clad outfits, Oakley set herself apart by designing her own conservative costumes, featuring a calf-length skirt, leggings, and a long-sleeved top. Deep down, she was still a devout Quaker girl from Ohio, and she wanted

her stage outfits to reflect that. Oakley's demure and ladylike appearance was not an act, but she still had fun with it. She delighted audiences by blowing kisses to the crowds and pouting like a little girl, appearing to sulk after she missed a shot, even when it was intentional. She was a savvy performer, who took advantage of her novelty as a woman sharpshooter, while still playing to the social norms of the time. and that combination thrilled audiences they'd never seen anyone like her. Oakley became best known for her skills with a shotgun, but she also used a rifle or pistols whenever a particular stunt called for it. Her specialty was hitting small targets from a distance,

like when she would shoot the flame of a candle, snuffing it out, or shoot corks from the top of bottles. To really put the audience on the edge of their seat, she would shoot a cigarette straight out of Butler's mouth. One night in March 1884, while Oakley and Butler were performing in St. Paul, Minnesota, their audience included the famous Lakota Chief Sitting Bull. He was technically a prisoner of the U.S. government,

blamed for the murder of General George Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn eight years earlier. But he was permitted to travel the country to attend certain events as long as he was accompanied by an Indian agent as he was that evening. So sitting there in the audience, Sitting Bull was mesmerized by Oakley, not just her shooting abilities, but also her spirited demeanor. After the performance, he sent $65 to her hotel asking for an autographed picture. She sent back a signed photo, but refused to take his money. Instead, she called on him the next morning personally.

They became such good friends after their first meeting that he symbolically adopted her as a gesture of deep affection and admiration. And as part of that adoption, he gave her the Lakota name, Juan Tanya Cecilla, or Little Shore Shot. After Oakley and Butler's performance in Minnesota, they managed to secure a 40-week gig with the Sells Brothers Circus, one of the most popular traveling shows in the country. For the better part of 1884, the couple traveled all over, honing their act, but at the end of the year, the season came to a close in New Orleans. With their contract up, they knew that unless they could find

something else, they would have to go back to the vaudeville circuit. But luckily for them, at the same time the circus entered New Orleans, a new show had come to town, Buffalo Bills Wild West. The owner and ringleader of that show was William Buffalo Bill Cody, a famous frontiersman who had turned from hunting bison and serving as a scout for the U.S. military to show business. In 1883, he created a dramatized Wild West show to capitalize on the nostalgia for the frontier past. The show was the first of its kind, although many copycats would soon emerge. Unlike traditional theater, Cody's Wild West show featured real Native Americans and cowboys who recreated famous battles in the Plains Indians Wars, including some Cody had been part of in his

youth. It was a lavish production, which included elaborately choreographed shootouts and stagecoach attacks, and audiences flocked to the show, eager to get a taste of what life on the old frontier would have felt like, all from the safety of their seats. To Oakley, it seemed like a dream job. She and Butler could leave the vaudeville circuit for a stable position in a different kind of production, one they considered more legitimate. And they might be able to earn a a better living, meaning Annie could help support her family back in Ohio, with whom she remained close. So she wasted no time and applied, presenting herself as the main attraction and Butler as her assistant. Initially, Cody turned her down, saying Oakley's fee was too high and that he doubted her stamina as a woman.

Not only that, he already had a sharpshooter in his troop, the star marksman Captain Adam Bogartis. But luckily for Oakley, only a few months later, Bogartis unexpectedly quit. So in April 1885, 24-year-old Oakley officially joined Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show with Butler accompanying her as her full-time manager and assistant. By now, he knew that she was the star, and that the best thing for both of them was to let her shine. But initially, Cody put Oakley low on the billing, until after her first few performances, when even Cody couldn't deny that she was a crowd favorite. He moved her up to the first act after the opening procession. That season, 150,000 people saw Oakley perform, and there was another star drawing people in,

one she was happy to share the stage with, her friend's Sitting Bull, who joined the show for a four-month stint. His act wasn't strenuous. He merely appeared as himself, the famous or infamous to many white spectators, Lakota chief whose warriors destroyed Custer at the Battle of the Little Big Horn. But for Oakley, as part of Buffalo Bill's show, her act became more complex and exciting. Up to that point, one of her most impressive tricks was splitting a playing card that had been turned sideways, but she soon started incorporating moving targets interact, reminiscent of her time as a child shooting quail on the fly. In one of her stuns, after a clay target was released into the air, she would leap over a table, grab her gun, and shoot it from an upside-down position.

In another, she would fire backwards at a target while looking into a mirror. And later in her act, she stood atop a galloping horse while still managing to expert, shoot clay pigeons out of the air. For 10 minutes, she never stopped moving or entertaining. Audiences came from far and wide to see her. And in 1886, when Buffalo Bill's Wild West show came to New York, it drew record crowds, thanks in large part to Oakley. She was making the kind of money she had once only dreamed of, still the memory of her years of childhood poverty kept her humble and frugal. She wouldn't spend much on herself, but she did send money and gifts home to her family in Ohio, along with letters detailing her many travels.

Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show drew such a claim that Cody decided to take the show abroad. In March 1887, Annie and the rest of the troop prepared to set sail for London, where they would perform at Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee. But as Oakley looked forward to her international debut, something had begun to bother her, and now she planned to confront her boss Buffalo Bill and make her feelings known. Imagine it's the spring of 1887, and you're aboard a ship sailing across the Atlantic. You're transporting the Wild West Show you created to England, where you're scheduled to perform for the Queen. It's the show's first appearance overseas, and your cast and crew are understandably excited.

Most are below decks having a party, except for your star, Annie Oakley. You've been told she's up on deck looking unhappy, so you make your way up the stairs and find her leaning against the rails at the bow of the ship. There you are. Everybody's been asking after you. I just needed a minute without that little brat nearby. Oh, look, I know you're upset that I hired another sharpshooter, but I assure you, Lillian is no threat to you. You know, years ago, when I asked to join your show, you told me you already had a marksman and didn't need two. Yes, I did, but this is different. How is it? Well, I've learned a few things since then. Oh, yeah, such as? That the audience loves sharpshooters, so there's room for more than just one. Well, that's funny because you didn't think so when your sharpshooter was a man.

Oh, listen to me. No one's replacing you. Then why have you been telling reporters that you'll pay $10,000 to anyone who can beat Lillian in a shooting contest? Annie, that's just promotion. And what about what she's saying? She's telling people, now that I'm with the Wild West, Annie Oakley is done for. Oh, hell, you know, she's just 15 years old and full of vinegar. Young people say foolish things. Oakley huffs and stares out into the distance.

You know, people will see the truth eventually. She's brash and coarse, and she might seem interesting now, but that's not going to last. Well, Annie, that might be true, but right now some healthy competition might not be such a bad thing. You can learn from her rifle skills, and she can learn from your shotgun skills. You might actually make each other better. Oh, please, I'm not taking advice from some teenager. Well, you were a teenager not long ago. Remember what you were like?

Exactly. And that's what I'm afraid of. You sigh, knowing there's nothing you can say that. will ease Oakley's fears. You're certainly not about to fire your newest star just to appease her, so hopefully Oakley will come around and see that having a little friendly competition between two female sharpshooters is only going to make the Wild West show more popular than ever. And if she doesn't come around, well, now you have her potential replacement. By the time Cody's Wild West production arrived in England,

Oakley had taken a strong dislike to the show's newest arrival, a young sharpshooter from California named Lillian Smith. Smith was only 15 years old, but was supposedly as good with a rifle as Oakley was with a shotgun. Oakley, now 26 years old, was worried that the persona she'd crafted as a girlish prodigy was being threatened. So she began telling people she was born in 1866, not 1860, making it appear that she was only 20 years old. And she was right to worry about Smith's rising star. When the show opened in London and many, Cody gave Oakley and Smith equal billing, something Annie had not had to accept since her early days performing with her husband.

For the next two months, Oakley and Smith were constantly pitted against each other. In June, they both vied for attention from Queen Victoria, who came to see the show. After the curtain call, the Queen called both Oakley and Smith to her royal box. That didn't sit well with Oakley. She alone was supposed to be the main attraction. But then in July, at a rifle competition, in Wimbledon. Smith shot terribly. Oakley knew she had to take advantage of the moment, and although she was known primarily for her skill with a shotgun, Oakley had grown up shooting her father's rifle. Sure enough, Oakley shot brilliantly and managed to completely upstage Smith.

In the wake of her win, and much to her delight, Oakley became the toast of London. But that came with its own difficulties. Some newspapers were so impressed by her that they began saying she was a bigger star than Buffalo Bill Cody himself, leading to tension between those two. And when an American paper came out with a report saying that Smith, and not Oakley, was the toast of London, Cody did nothing to correct it. For Oakley, who cared deeply about her public image,

this was the final straw. In late October, as the show's London engagement came to an end, Oakley made a big announcement. She told the London evening news that she was quitting Buffalo Bill's Wild West show following their final London performance that evening. The scoop came as a complete shock to the public. She'd been with the show for nearly two and half years,

and she was at the height of her popularity and her earning power. But Oakley's rivalry with Lillian Smith and tension with Bill Cody had become too much. Still, walking away from Buffalo Bill's Wild West show was a gamble a few performers would have been willing to take. Oakley was resolute, though. She'd spent years clawing her way to the top, and she refused to share the spotlight. so she would leave it all behind and strike out on her own,

determined to prove that even without Buffalo Bill, she was still a star. You stepped out for your morning jog. Except it's not your usual morning jog. You started listening to an epic sci-fi book on Audible. 30 chapters later, you've accidentally run a half marathon. You lost track of how far you've run, somewhere just past the city limits. You can't stop. You have to find out what happens next.

Then it's over. The universe seems bigger. You feel different. You feel like you have no idea where you are. Audible. Stories that speak to you. By the spring of 1888, Annie Oakley was back on the vaudable circuit. After leaving Buffalo Bill's Wild West show, she and her husband, Frank Butler, thought they'd easily reestablish themselves on their own. Oakley was the country's most famous sharpshooter,

and she believed she could be a headliner without anyone's help. But times were changing, and audiences had begun to see sharpshooters as relics of a bygone era. Crowds were more interested in new singers, dancers, and comedians who felt fresh and modern. Still, Oakley and Butler struggled on. They spent some time with a circus, then they joined a different Wild West show. Oakley even tried her hand at theater, but nothing lived up to her past glories. Then in February 1889, about a year and a half after striking out on their own,

Oakley and Butler got word from Buffalo Bill Cody's business manager. Cody was planning a show in Paris that spring, and he wanted Oakley back. It turned out Cody and Oakley needed each other more than they thought they did, so they got together behind closed doors and worked out their differences. When they re-emerged, the rift was mended, and Oakley agreed to rejoin the show. At the same time, Lillian Smith quietly left the troop. Cody never revealed why, but it's likely that Oakley made a bargain. She would return as long as Smith left.

Now, after rejoining the show that had made her a household name, Oakley had a new swagger in her step. When she and Butler traveled with Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show to France in 1889, they set up outside the Paris Exposition and played to sold-out crowds every night. Just like in London two years before, Oakley soon became the talk of the town. From France, the show then moved to Italy and Germany, and everywhere they went crowds clamored to see Oakley. She was once again a superstar. But despite her celebrity status, Oakley continued to live modestly and send money back to her family in Ohio whenever she could.

She and Butler also gave money to charities. Even when she was the highest paid performer in the Wild West Show, after only Cody himself, she continued competing in shooting competitions to supplement her income. And Oakley would have been happy to keep up this intense pace, but in the fall of 1901, she and Butler were riding on a passenger train when it crashed head on into an on-com. coming freight train. Oakley's spine was injured so badly that she had to undergo surgery. The recovery was long and difficult, and it forced her to take a step back from her public appearances, and even after she recovered, she struggled to shoot as skillfully as she had before. This hit Oakley hard, as she didn't want to be anything less than the best, so in 1902 she decided to take her final bow in the Wild West Show and retire as a legend. But almost as soon as she stepped back from the limelight. A scandalous accusation emerged threatening to destroy her hard-won reputation.

Imagine it's August 1903 in New Jersey. You're a lawyer making your way through a stack of papers on your desk, when suddenly the door to your office swings open. A petite woman in a modest white blouse and long gray skirt storms in and extends her hand toward you. Good afternoon. I'm Mrs. Annie Butler, though you might know me better as Annie Oakley. You stand and shake her hand, taking note of her firm grip. You've read all about Annie Oakley many times in the papers and seen the billboards for her performances over the years, so you can't help wondering why she's just barged into your office.

Well, of course, Mrs. Oakley, I mean, Mrs. Butler, please have a seat, and how can I help you? I want to lodge a suit against William Randolph Hearst. Oh, it's that all? Well, you certainly wouldn't be the first to have a problem with him. His Chicago paper wrote a terrible story about me. They said, I've been arrested for trying to stand. steal a man's pants to pay for my cocaine habit. I'll have you know I've never taken drugs a day in my

life. I would never steal a man's trousers. And the last time I was in Chicago was more than a year ago. So you're saying it's not true. Of course not. It's all complete lies. Apparently it was some woman in Chicago, a burlesque impersonator who just said she was me. Ah, well, I can see how that's upsetting. But Mr. Hurst is in the business of selling papers. He's known for stretching the truth. This is beyond a stretch. Hurst's rag of a paper. printed it as fact. And dozens of other papers picked up the story and ran with it. None of those reporters did any due diligence. I'm owed more than an apology. I want to see them pay. I understand. No, I don't think you do. My good name is all I have. And these papers have besmirched it.

So I want $25,000 in damages. Well, we can certainly try. But you have to know, Hearst will be a tough opponent, not just from Hearst, from every single paper who printed the story. And exactly how many newspapers are we talking about? 55. All right, well, let's just think about this for a second. That's quite a lot of papers to go after. And it's not as though we can bring one big lawsuit against all of them. We'll have to file individually against each paper. Are you sure you want to do this? I most certainly am, and I don't care what it costs me personally either. All right? In that case, why don't we start with half of the papers and see how we go from there? As long as we get to all of them eventually. But I want to go after Hearst first. He's the head of

this snake, and I want to be sure we cut it off. All you can do is nod in agreement and begin drawing up the necessary paperwork. This is sure to be a long, uphill fight and an expensive one, too. But if she's willing to pay for it, you're willing to try. And you're pretty sure from the tenacity she's demonstrated today that if anyone can withstand such a grueling legal battle, it's Annie Oakley. Ultimately, Oakley spent six years filing suits against the 55 newspapers who republished the story. In the end, she won or settled all but one of the suits, including one against Hearst himself. He had to pay her more than $27,000. Unfortunately, after all her legal expenses, she actually lost money, but to her it was worth it. Nothing was more important than protecting her

image. With her legal battles behind her, Oakley and Butler went back on the road. They briefly joined another Wild West show, and they competed in more shooting matches. In 1917, when the United States entered World War I, Oakley toured army camps sharing her techniques and performed in exhibition shows to raise money for the Red Cross. In 1924, when she was 64 years old, she performed in her final charity event. Over the 4th of July weekend, she skipped into an arena in Long Island, adjusted the glasses she now wore, and signaled for Butler to hold up a target. She was a little out of practice, but she still gave the crowd one hell of a show. She may have wanted to keep performing, but the years had taken their toll, and sadly her body could not keep up.

By 1925, Oakley was so frail and ill that she and Butler moved back to Ohio to be closer to family. The following year, on November 3, 1926, she passed away at the age of 66. 18 days later, Frank Butler, her husband of nearly 50 years, followed. Both died of natural causes. Until her dying day, Oakley had carefully maintained her public image. By excelling at a traditionally male skill, but doing it on her own terms, she was able to break down gender stereotypes and capture the public's attention for decades. And she proved in a time when it was not so common that a woman could command an arena,

compete against men, and control her own destiny. From Audible Originals, this is episode five of our five-part series on Frontier Legends for American History Tellers. In the next episode, I speak with historian Paul Hutton, curator of the Buffalo Bill Museum of the West. We'll talk about our fascination with the mythology of the Wild West and how ordinary folks like Buffalo Bill Cody became legends in their own time. American History Tellers is only possible because of listeners like you.

So thank you. And don't miss an episode. Be sure to follow American History Tellers on Audible or wherever you get your podcasts. Audible subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Audible in the Audible app or by subscribing on Apple Podcasts. And to find out more about me, including my other podcasts, my live

show, the history tours I'm arranging, and all sorts of other things, go to history ishuman.com. That's history ishuman.com. If you'd like to learn more about Annie Oakley, we recommend Annie Oakley by Cheryl Casper, and the Colonel and Little Missy, Buffalo Bill Annie Oakley and the beginnings of superstardom in America by Larry McMurdy. American History Tellers is host. edited and produced by me, Lindsay Graham for Airship. This episode is written by Alex Burns, edited by Dorian Marina, senior producers Alita Rosanski and Andy Herman, managing producer Desi Blaylock, audio editing by Mohamed Shazib, music by Throm,

sound design by Molly Bach, executive producer for Audible, Jenny Lauer Beckman, head of creative development at Audible, Kate Navin, head of Audible Originals, North America, Marshall Louie, chief content officer Rachel Kianza. Copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC. Sound recording copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC.