The Speaker’s Lobby: Ghosts of the Republic

Edgar Allan Poe wrote that the scariest monsters are the ones which lurk within our souls.

But what about the souls which lurk in the halls of Congress?

The U.S. Capitol is more than 200 years old. And any building which has been around for two centuries, is stocked with legends and ghosts. This time of year, people flock to pop-up haunted houses "on the hill." But when it comes to Washington, DC, there is only one haunted House (and Senate) on "the Hill." So allow me to spook you with tales of the Capitol macabre as we descend into the Congressional catacombs.

Four grand staircases occupy each quadrant of the Capitol. But the steps in the southwest portion of the building on the House side tell perhaps one of the most grotesque stories in Congress.

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Capitol Hill, like any other staple of contemporary Americana, has a rich history of folklore bordering on the macabre. (Getty Images)

And we’re not talking about one of the big omnibus spending bills.

Rep. William Taulbee, D-Ky., served in Congress in the late 19th Century. And just like today, the Capitol teams with journalists, chasing lawmakers for a quotation or information about legislation. But Taulbee had a problem. Reporter Charles Kincaid wrote for the Louisville Times. Kincaid penned an article about Taulbee’s dalliances titled "Kentucky’s Silver-Tongued Taulbee Caught in Flagrante or Thereabouts."

After the article, Taulbee didn’t seek reelection but stuck around in Washington, pushing various causes – long before "K Street" became a thing. But Taulbee and Kincaid would often run into one another at the Capitol. Taulbee was a lot taller than the diminutive Kincaid and would sometimes physically harass the scribe.

The pen may be mightier than the sword. But it’s certainly not as powerful as a pistol.

In February, 1890, the two men encountered one another near the House chamber. Kincaid produced his firearm and shot the former Congressman in the face. Taulbee bled profusely as he headed down the marble stairwell.

Many lawmakers come to Washington, intent on leaving a mark on the body politic. But as it turns out, it was Taulbee’s body which left an indelible mark on the U.S. Capitol.

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You see, the composition of human blood and the Georgian, white marble used to make the stairwells of the building don’t exactly mix. Splotches of Taulbee’s blood covered the staircase every few feet from the second floor to the first. Some markings look like shapes in a Rorschach test. Taulbee died the next day from his wounds. But his plasma is forever a part of the U.S. Capitol, permanently staining the staircase.

As a result of his fate, Taulbee doesn’t think much of reporters. Even to this day. And it’s believed that Taulbee sometimes makes himself known by tripping members of the Congressional press corps.

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau visited the Capitol in the summer of 2019. He had just met with then-House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, D-Calif. However, word broke that day that the attendance-starved Tampa Bay Rays might try to work out an agreement to play some of their home games in Montreal. The Montreal Expos abandoned Canada in 2005 to become the Washington Nationals.

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau is a known Expos fan – there's even a picture of him and his late father, Pierre, watching them play at Montreal's Olympic Stadium in his youth. (Bettmann / Contributor)

Trudeau was a fan of the Expos. There’s even a picture of a boyish Trudeau in the stands at Olympic Stadium in Montreal with his father, late Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau.

It would be a scoop if the younger Trudeau weighed-in on the prospects of Major League Baseball returning to Montreal.

Trudeau walked down a spiral staircase not far from where Kincaid killed Taulbee. I tried to get a comment from Trudeau. But for no apparent reason, I tripped over the lip of a step and cascaded in front of the Canadian leader. I didn’t drop the microphone. I also knew that I could break my arm or hand if I tried to catch myself.

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Fortunately, I studied martial arts for years. One of the things they teach you is how to fall. I quickly adjusted my weight so I plunged onto my right shoulder and rolled. My feet flew up in the air. This was all caught on tape by my photographer Robert Fetzer.

"Oh Chad! Chad! Chad! Chad," yelled Fetzer, as I plopped directly in front of Trudeau.

I was uninjured and Trudeau extended an arm to assist me. But I had already sprang back to my feet. Alas, Trudeau didn’t answer my question about the Rays and Montreal and went on his way.

I may have had my own run-in with the ghost of William Taulbee during an attempt to interview the younger Trudeau. (Darryl Dyck/The Canadian Press via AP)

But there was no logical reason why I tripped there. I’ve stood by those stairs hundreds of times. I’ve never been caught by the lip of the lower stairs.

A possible explanation?

Perhaps the ghost of William Taulbee saw to it that I keister over teakettle in front of the Canadian Prime Minister.

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However, there is only one Capitol haunting which surpasses the Taulbee tripping tale.

But only by a whisker.

It’s the legend of the demon cat.

Cat pawprints immortalized in the Capitol's floor are rumored to be those of the so-called "demon cat," whose sporadic appearances around Washington have coincided with wars and assassinations. (Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images)

Capitol Police officers and even 19th century watchmen claim they’ve seen a phantasmic feline prowl the hallways of the Capitol before national emergencies. Especially war and assassinations.

Purr-portedly.

That said, no one spotted the demon cat before 9/11 or the 2021 Capitol riot.

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Maybe the demon cat – like all cats – only has nine lives.

But I can take you to a place where the demon cat is said to have walked.

Go to the first floor of the "mini" Rotunda on the Senate side of the Capitol near the Old Supreme Court chamber. If you learn against one of the columns near that room and look down, you might just see several paw prints permanently etched into the floor. However, the light must catch the prints just right. You could stand right on top of the prints and never spy them.

Sometimes, the best phantasms one can conceive of in our nation's capital exist in the mind's eye – the specters of great men who have long since passed, leaving naught but their indelible marks on American history. (Tom Williams/Roll Call/Getty Images)

Supposedly the demon cat signed its initials in an obscure Senate stairwell in the basement. Scrawled into the concrete are the initials "DC."

However, this evidence is up to interpretation. Could the DC stand for "District of Columbia?" How about "direct current?" Maybe even, "Detective Comics."

I warned you we would descend into the Congressional cat-acombs.

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The Capitol features a cornucopia of stories about spooky voices, departed workers singing late at night and even one tale of a senator rocking in a chair, reading legislation. The Capitol Rotunda and Statuary Hall (the old House chamber) are dotted with life-life renderings of statesmen, inventors, heroes and scientists. It is said that after midnight the statues sometimes come alive to debate one another.

In the House of Representatives, that’s not a "Special Order" speech but a "Spectral Order."

But sometimes the best ghosts in the Capitol are the ones you conjure in your mind’s eye. Abraham Lincoln sitting at a desk toward the back of the old House chamber. Lyndon Johnson roaming the Senate floor. Scenes of presidential inaugurations from years gone by at the Capitol.

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The ghosts of the republic in fact haunt the halls of Congress.

And in many cases, those phantasms aren’t ghosts.

They’re American history.