The forgotten story of William Taulbee and Charles Kincaid
Why history is a caution and comfort in our current moment of political violence
Gracious reader,
In the wake of the assassination attempt of former President Trump—an incident that resulted in the deaths of the shooter, firefighter Corey Comperator, and left two people in critical condition—we are confronted with the most important question of our time: how might we peacefully coexist across deep differences?
This is also the central question of my book, The Soul of Civility, released eight months ago, but more relevant now than ever.
My book is a call to common decency across our differences today. It revives the timeless principles of human flourishing that can help us peacefully navigate our differences today.
I ask that you share this post, and my book, with others you think might be still grappling with the political violence we witnessed this past weekend.
In the last issue of CR, we reflected on how history has been at the forefront of the culture wars in America. I review the story of an unsung hero of American history that I believe could be a unifying figure in our past—and offer a model for the kind of spirited debate and conduct that we need to navigate our deep differences about important questions today.
Today, I’d like to share another story that reveals how, amid our deep divisions and era of political violence—and despite the fact that history has become a source of division itself—history can continue to instruct, inform, and guide us, encourage, comfort, and caution us.
The challenges to civility are timeless
An assassination attempt of a former U.S. President—as well as other forms of political violence that are all too common today—is a salient reminder of the challenge inherent in doing life together with those with whom we disagree. As we navigate life together anew in light of this recent violence, it’s worth remembering that the challenges to civility are timeless.
As long as we’ve existed as a species, we’ve been striving for peaceful coexistence with others. And as long as we’ve existed, it’s been hard. This is because the root cause of incivility—inordinate human self-love—is part of the human personality that we all share and is a constant threat to the human social project. Especially after the violence the world witnessed this weekend, it’s easy to feel like ours is the most uncivil moment. In reality, incivility is nothing new.
Consider a once-famous, but now largely forgotten, instance of violence toward a public official.
The Forgotten Story of William Taulbee and Charles Kincaid
There is no question that the vitriol of our media culture—or the animosity that exists between our politicians and our journalism class—is a core expression of our current challenges to civility now.
Surely it’s the worst it’s ever been, it’s easy to muse.
A look to a forgotten low watermark of civility and basic decency across difference in American history and public life gives us both caution and comfort.
It was a crisp winter Friday afternoon in America’s capitol, one like many before it and like many after it.
No one in Washington could have expected February 28, 1890, to be so perilous.
Congressman William Taulbee, a Democrat from Kentucky, had recently resigned from office.
He was still furious that Charles Kincaid of The Louisville Times had published a story about his extramarital affair with a congressional staffer in 1887, which had forced him to resign. The scandal meant the end of Taulbee’s ambitious political career, and he held Kincaid personally responsible.
While no longer a congressman, Taulbee still often lurked around Capitol Hill, where Kincaid reported. Taulbee tormented Kincaid every chance he could, sometimes even lying in wait while Kincaid tried to avoid him. Taulbee stepped on Kincaid’s foot in an elevator and held it there while Kincaid groaned in pain. He threatened Kincaid’s life, rammed him against the door of a streetcar, and shoved him into a metal railing.
The relentless harassment soon became too much for Kincaid.
As the clock struck twelve on that fateful Friday afternoon, Kincaid was in the halls of Congress waiting for an interview when Taulbee appeared for his now-ritualized abuse of the exhausted reporter. Taulbee shouted at his target, pushed him, violently pulled his ear, and threatened Kincaid’s life yet again.
Kincaid decided that enough was enough.
Two hours later, on the steps of Congress, a shot rang out. Kincaid had shot Taulbee in the head and made no attempt to hide. This was the first time that a member of Congress had been murdered in the Capitol. Some say that William Taulbee’s blood can still be seen on the steps of Congress.
Due to the widespread knowledge of Taulbee’s harassment of Kincaid, Kincaid was later acquitted.
History as Caution and Comfort
History is a comfort to us because, contrary to what many might think, we are not, in fact, living in the most uncivil, divided, violent era—in America or any other place.
Our history is a comfort to us also thanks to unsung heroes such as Edward Coles and others like him who do not get the recognition they are due.
These and other figures defied the moral status quo of their day and stood up against powerful figures to defend personhood, human dignity, and equality under the law—ideals that America was founded on, though has lived up to imperfectly.
We can take comfort and inspiration from that. There is much in our nation’s history to condemn—but also much to celebrate, such as the story of Edward Coles.
But history is also a caution to us: violence has been part of our past, as a country and as a species, and indeed—in the face of growing extremism and political violence—is part of our present.
The fact that abuse, murderous violence—not to mention other injustices from our past that were once widely accepted—shows that it’s been bad before, and it can be bad again.
Caution is merited.
It’s encouraging that Trump’s ideological opponents have denounced this act of violence, called on Americans to reaffirm our fundamental commonalities as citizens and human beings, and encouraged us to come together around shared values.
Former President Obama condemned the attack, asserting, “There is absolutely no place for political violence in our democracy.” He urged us all to "use this moment to recommit ourselves to civility and respect in our politics.” Former Vice President Al Gore called on Americans to “join together to wholeheartedly and unequivocally condemn political violence.”
Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders stated, “Political violence is absolutely unacceptable,” and expressed his condolences to President Trump and others affected.
But the assassination attempt of former President Trump should cause us not only to look out to out public leaders, but to reflect on our own responsibility to be part of social healing in our era of deep division, alienation and violence.
A chance to look inward
The violence in our current moment is a chance for us to look inward.
As students of history, we know that civilization, and democracy, and peaceful co-existance with others across difference are fragile.
This fragility means that we each have a responsibility to elevate our civic culture and promote tolerance across difference.
This isn’t a duty we can abdicate to our public leaders.
Democratic regimes depend upon most individuals choosing to follow the law, respect their fellow citizens, and act for the common good—to act well toward one another even when we have the opportunity not to act well.
In short, our democracy depends on civility.
Promoting a culture of tolerance and civility begins when we recognize that differences are not problems to be fixed, but resources to be mined.
It begins with each of us — leaders and citizens alike—choosing to see, love and respect the irreducible dignity and equal moral worth of the other… even those who are different from us, those we do not like or agree with, and those who can do nothing for us in return.
This is the test of true civility—and the secret ingredient of a free, flourishing, and peaceful society.
Notes from the Book Tour
Thank you to the National Review Institute for hosting my keynote talk on "The Soul of Civility." It was a privilege to discuss how history serves as both caution and comfort in our uncivil times, and how we can overcome our current society of spectacle.
Had the best book signing partner—Steven Pinker—at Freedom Fest in Las Vegas this past weekend!
Also at Freedom Fest, it was wonderful to be with Peter Slen—who is also from my husband’s hometown in rural Indiana—on CSPAN Book TV. We discussed The Soul of Civility, and how it might help us thrive across deep differences today—even amid our intense presidential election cycle.
So much fun in The Green Room before my MainStage keynote talk at Freedom Fest with Kennedy and Matt Ridley!
Looking ahead:
As we prepare to welcome our baby boy into this world this September, I’m grateful to be winding down talks and other commitments, but here are some upcoming events — and do come say hi if you are in these cities!
August 6 - National Conference of State Legislatures, Louisville, KY
November 14- Berry College, Mt. Berry, GA
November 19- Hillsdale College, Hillsdale, MI
In the news:
Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!
Shared your book with a friend this weekend!
For most things in life, you can find precedents in the past. There are relatively few things happening for the very first time now.