Lost Capitol Hill: William Taulbee

A few weeks ago, I asked for suggestions for some future columns. There was a great response, and so I plucked one out at random (well, more accurately, one that intrigues me, and not just because the victim and I share a birthday) and dug into the tragic tale of Representative William Taulbee, who was shot in the Capitol. As it turned out, there was more than enough for a column, in fact, there was enough for three, so over the next weeks, I will tell this tale in all its sordid glory. Today: A Representative goes astray.

William Preston Taulbee was elected from the 10th district of Kentucky in November, 1884. He was the son of William Harrison Taulbee, a politician as well, having been elected to the Kentucky Senate in 1882. While only 33 years old on election day, his imposing height and stentorian voice – honed during his time as a Methodist minister, and earning him the nickname “Mountain Orator” – had quickly launched his career. In short, there was nothing that would indicate anything but a long and successful career in public service.

Unfortunately, his upward trajectory was shot down by his attraction to a young woman for whom he procured a position in the Patent Office, one Laura Louisa Dodge. Taulbee visited his paramour, later described as being “plump as a partridge and as bright as a sunbeam, with nut brown hair, liquid blue eyes, cheeks like peaches and rose bud lips tipped with dew,” daily, and soon rumors began to fly around town. This was particularly problematic in that Representative Taulbee was married to the former Miss Lou Emma Oney, and had been so for well-nigh 17 years. Even worse, though Miss Dodge was from Massachusetts, she misrepresented herself as being from Kentucky when accepting the job, and finally (though not nearly as relevant as it would be today) had not yet reached her 18^th birthday.

Scene of the assignation: The Patent Office model room

Then, as today, a story as sordid as this was catnip to journalists, and when in December, 1887, the pair were caught “in a compromising position,” it did not take long for the story to be splashed across the front page of the Louisville Times. It ran under the sensational headline “Kentucky’s Silver-Tongued Taulbee Caught in Flagrante, or Thereabouts, with Brown-Haired Miss Dodge.” There was no byline, and, frankly, not much need for any further text, but everyone assumed that the author was a certain Charles Euston Kincaid.

Kincaid, who had studied law, just as his target had, lacked both Taulbee’s vigor and height, and so had elected to become first a judge, then a secretary to a US Senator, before finally following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a newspaperman.

Surprisingly enough, the story appeared to be a one-day wonder. Though there were short articles in the Kentucky press about the affair, they quickly reverted to telling about Taulbee’s doings on Capitol Hill, including supporting prohibition in DC. Some papers even went so far as to indicate that nothing untoward had taken place. The Washington Post seems to have ignored the affair entirely. Nonetheless, Congressman Taulbee did not even bother standing for re-election in 1888, opting instead to become what every disgraced Representative becomes: A lobbyist.

Next week: An altercation with deadly consequences.