Welcome to the deep dive. We are we're really
thrilled to have you with us today. Absolutely.
Glad to be here and dig into this. Yeah. So usually
when you think of political thrillers, you know,
your mind probably goes straight to intense backdoor
meetings, dramatic betrayals, massive sweeping
shifts in power. You probably don't think of
a Wikipedia table, right? A spreadsheet isn't
exactly a blockbuster movie. Exactly. But our
mission for this deep dive is to take what looks
like a completely dry chronological list of United
States senators from the state of Maine. Just
rows of names, dates and party affiliations and
extract the incredible narrative hiding right
beneath the surface. Which is such a great premise.
We are going to show you how a simple ledger
of elected officials can actually reveal fascinating
stories of raw political ambition. Drastically
evolving power structures and some truly bizarre
historical courts. It's entirely too easy to
look at a data set of politicians and see nothing
but trivia, just factoids. But if you take a
step back, a list like this actually serves as
a mirror. A mirror, yeah. It reflects the broader
changes in American history over the last two
centuries. It shows us how the very nature of
political power has fundamentally shifted from
the early days of the republic right up to the
modern era. So to set the stage for you, we have
to establish our starting line. Maine officially
became a state on March 15th, 1820. Over 200
years ago. Right. Over 200 years of political
history to cover. But to really appreciate how
far the state's political identity has evolved
since the 1820s, we actually need to start by
looking at right now. OK, let's unpack this.
If you look at the present day political landscape
of Maine, as of our 2026 data, you see something
that is incredibly rare in modern American politics.
Very rare. Maine has a split U .S. Senate delegation.
That is right. You have Susan Collins, a Republican
who was first elected in 1996, serving alongside
Angus King, an Independent who was first elected
in 2012. And Maine is currently one of only four
states in the entire country to have a split
delegation. Just four. Just four out of 50? That
alone tells you so much about the voting base
in Maine. It points to a highly independent streak,
a political culture where voters are clearly
evaluating the individual person rather than
just checking a single party box down the entire
ballot. Yeah, they're willing to split their
tickets. Right. But there is another amazing
piece of modern political trivia hiding in this
current delegation. Maine is in a relatively
small club of states where the senior senator,
in this case, Susan Collins is actually physically
younger than the junior senator, Angus King.
Which always strips people up. It totally does.
I actually have the list here. Maine is one of
14 states where this happens. The others are
California, Colorado, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho.
It's a surprisingly geographically diverse list.
Yeah, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Minnesota, Missouri,
Nevada, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, and Utah.
What's fascinating here is that these modern
quirks set Maine apart. But they also serve as
a perfect lesson in how the actual mechanics
of the Senate operate. These facts demonstrate
how seniority and age don't always align. And
it all comes down to the Senate's class one and
class two electoral cycles. Right. Because people
hear class one, class two and assume it's some
sort of hierarchy or ranking system. Like class
one is the boss. Exactly. And it isn't at all.
A senator's class has absolutely nothing to do
with their importance or their power. It purely
dictates which specific election cycle their
seat falls into. The founders designed the Senate
so that only about a third of the chamber is
up for reelection every two years. Providing
a buffer against sudden sweeping populist movements.
So in Maine, Susan Collins holds a class two
seat and Angus King hold a class one seat. I
see. Because Collins won her election back in
1996 and King didn't arrive in the Senate until
2012, she holds the institutional seniority.
Completely, regardless of the fact that King
was born earlier. The Senate calendar only cares
about when you took the oath of office, not your
beef year. That modern stability we see with
Collins and King is fascinating, especially because
if you rewind to Maine's early days, stability
is the absolute last word you would use to describe
its politicians. Oh, without a doubt. It was
the Wild West. Let's look at the 1820s and 1830s.
First of all, the party affiliations listed for
these early senators sound like they belong in
a completely different country. You see names
attached to the Democratic Republican Party,
the Jacksonian Party, the National Republican
Party and the Whig Party. It really highlights
how fluid the American political system was in
those early decades. The rigid two party system,
as you and I know it today, simply had not solidified
yet. I have to imagine it was incredibly chaotic
for the voters to keep track of. Oh, absolutely.
Yeah. You see parties like. the Whigs, who were
essentially formed as a coalition just to oppose
Andrew Jackson's expansion of presidential power,
or the Jacksonians themselves. It was an era
defined largely by personality politics and regional
factions rather than the strict comprehensive
party platforms we expect today. Just constant
shifting. Constant. It was a time of intense,
constant political realignment. And it wasn't
just the party names that were fluid. It was
the actual jobs the politicians are willing to
do. I was going through the historical timeline,
and there is a pattern in the 1820s and 30s that
absolutely blew my mind. The resignations. Yes.
These early senators just kept quitting. They
would get elected to Washington and then walk
away. Look at Albion Paris. He is elected to
the U .S. Senate in 1827. By August of 1828,
barely a year later, he resigns. This packs up
and leaves. And his reason. He left to become
a judge on the Maine Supreme Judicial Court.
And he wasn't a one -off. A few years later,
Ether Shepley gets elected to the Senate in 1833.
By 1836, he also resigns. His reason is exactly
the same, to become a justice of the Maine Supreme
Judicial Court. If we connect this to the bigger
picture, it completely flips our modern understanding
of political ambition upside down. How so? Well,
today, serving in the United States Senate is
widely considered the absolute pinnacle of a
political career. People spend tens of millions
of dollars and decades of their lives just trying
to secure a single term. But in the 1820s and
30s, the federal government was drastically smaller.
So they were just quitting because Washington
didn't matter as much? Not necessarily that it
didn't matter, but you have to consider the immediate
impact of the roles. Prior to the Civil War,
the federal government had significantly less
direct influence on the daily lives of citizens.
A seat on a state Supreme Court was viewed as
an equally, if not more, desirable and powerful
position than a seat in the U .S. Senate. That
makes sense. The local power. Exactly. The real,
tangible power to shape laws, commerce, and daily
life resided much closer to home at the state
level. Giving up a Senate seat for a state judgeship
wasn't a demotion. In many ways, it was a major
promotion in terms of actual localized influence.
That is just incredible to think about, given
how Washington -centric our political media is
today. But if we are talking about ambition and
navigating this chaotic early system, there is
one name in Maine's history that completely steals
the show. We have to talk about Hannibal Hamlin.
Oh, yes. Hamlin is a fascinating figure. I was
looking at his timeline and it looks less like
a political career and more like a chaotic game
of musical chairs. His resume is truly something
to behold. It reflects a relentless level of
ambition. Here's where it gets really interesting,
because you almost have to hear his career path
sequentially to believe it. Hamlin starts out
his Senate career as a Democrat, getting elected
in 1848. He serves for a while, but then in 1856,
he completely changes parties and becomes a Republican.
A huge shift. Right. So that is already a massive
move. Then in early 1857, he resigns from the
U .S. Senate entirely to become the governor
of Maine. But he doesn't stay in the governor's
mansion. Just weeks later, in March of 1857,
he comes right back to the U .S. Senate as a
Republican. What exactly was happening there?
To understand Hamlin's maneuvering, you have
to look at the massive tidal waves sweeping the
country in 1856. His party switch from Democrat
to Republican perfectly illustrates the intense
political realignment happening right before
the Civil War. It was a chaotic time. Very. The
Republican Party had just been formed primarily
as a powerful anti -slavery coalition and was
rapidly drawing in politicians from various other
fractured parties in the North. Hamlin's switch
was a major, highly visible indicator of where
the political winds were blowing regarding the
expansion of slavery. So he was riding this massive
ideological wave and it essentially let him play
hopscotch with the highest offices in the state.
Precisely. And regarding that rapid -fire career
path in 1857, I invite you to just imagine a
politician trying to pull that off today. Imagine
a modern senator switching parties, resigning
to be governor, and then instantly jumping back
to the Senate just weeks later. The modern news
cycle would implode. It would be wall -to -wall
coverage of just sheer confusion. And he still
wasn't done. After jumping back into the Senate
in 1857, he stays until 1861. at which point
he resigns again. This time, it is to become
the vice president of the United States under
Abraham Lincoln. An incredible promotion. And
after serving as vice president, he eventually
returns to the U .S. Senate yet again, serving
from 1869 all the way to 1881. The sheer stamina
required to manage that kind of career is staggering.
It really is. It highlights a time when political
institutions were perhaps a bit more malleable,
but also a figure who knew exactly how to navigate
the absolute peak of American political turmoil.
Hamlin wasn't the only Mainer being headhunted
for the executive branch either. As we move through
the 19th and into the 20th century, the historical
record shows a distinct pattern of upward mobility.
You have Lott M. Morrill resigning from his Senate
seat to become the U .S. Secretary of the Treasury.
A huge role. James G. Blaine resigned to become
the U .S. Secretary of State. And jumping forward
quite a bit to 1980, Edmund Muskie also resigned
to become the U .S. Secretary of State. It shows
that Maine, despite its relatively small population
and geographic isolation up in the corner of
New England, was consistently producing politicians
who were viewed as national heavyweights. These
were individuals trusted by presidents to run
major, complex federal departments. So what does
this all mean? We see these high profile cabinet
appointments, this incredible upward mobility
and national influence. But the historical data
also reveals a much darker, much more fragile
side to serving in this era. It does. The contrast
is actually quite stark. While you have these
individuals ascending to the highest levels of
the executive branch, the raw timeline also shows
a sobering number of senators who simply died
in office. Yeah, quite a few. It was a very harsh
reality of the era. If you read through the historical
ledger, you see John Fairfield, William P. Fry,
Edwin C. Burley, and Bert M. Fernald. All four
of these men passed away while actively serving
the state of Maine in the Senate. It is a heavy
reminder that these weren't just names on a page.
They were real people dealing with the realities
of life, health. And medicine at the time. Exactly.
The sheer physical toll of the job was vastly
different back then. You have to factor in the
grueling travel conditions between Maine and
Washington, D .C., before commercial flights,
the stress of the era, and the limitations of
19th and early 20th century medicine. Serving
in Washington was a genuine physical burden.
But we should definitely highlight one of those
names you just mentioned, William P. Fry. Even
though he died in office, if you look at the
historical record, William P. Fry actually holds
the title as Maine's longest serving U .S. senator.
30 years. 30 years. He served for three solid
decades from 1881 right up until his death in
1911. Three decades in the chamber. That kind
of tenure is remarkable, especially given the
physical toll we just discussed. And Fry's 30
-year run actually serves as a perfect narrative
bridge for us. How so? Because as we move into
the 20th century, we see a massive fundamental
shift in how politicians treat the job. The constant
resignations, the party switching, the short
localized stints we saw in the 1800s with people
like Paris and all the quitting. Right. All the
quitting. It begins to completely give way to
an era of immense stability and long term service.
You can really see it clearly as you look at
the modern era in Maine politics. It becomes
dominated by these absolute heavyweights who
treat the Senate not as a stepping stone, but
as a lifelong career. You have Frederick Hale,
who served from 1917 to 1941. Then there is.
Margaret Chase Smith, a truly legendary figure
who served from 1949 to 1973. Incredible tenures.
William Cohen held his seat from 1979 to 1997.
Olympia Snow served from 1995 to 2013. And of
course, Susan Collins, who has been in office
since 1997. This raises an important question,
and it is something I encourage you, the listener,
to think about regarding modern politics. How
do these decades -long tenures impact a state's
influence on the national stage? especially compared
to the revolving door we saw in the 1800s. It
has to completely change the math for a smaller
state, right? Right. Absolutely. In the U .S.
Senate, power is heavily, almost exclusively,
tied to seniority. Committee chairmanships, elite
leadership roles, the ability to steer massive
amounts of federal funding back home, these things
usually go to the people. who've been walking
the halls the longest. So stability literally
pays off. Exactly. By shifting from politicians
who constantly quit for state jobs to politicians
who stayed for 20 or 30 uninterrupted years,
a relatively small state like Maine was able
to exponentially increase its footprint and its
influence in Washington, D .C. They accumulated
immense institutional power simply by staying
put. It really is the ultimate long game. And
before we move off this modern era of stability,
there is one last great piece of trivia that
shows how this long game plays out in real time.
It is about a sort of domino effect of appointments.
Oh, this is a great one. Remember how we mentioned
Edmund Muskie resigning in 1980 to become secretary
of state? Well, when he left, the governor had
to appoint someone to fill his seat temporarily.
George J. Mitchell was appointed to finish Muskie's
term. And Mitchell didn't just keep the seat
warm. He used that initial appointment as a springboard.
A massive springboard. Right. He got elected
to full terms in his own right and ended up serving
until 1995, eventually becoming the Senate majority
leader. One resignation essentially birthed another
15 -year powerhouse career. It is a perfect example
of how an unexpected vacancy can alter the trajectory
of a state's political history for decades. And
that brings us to the end of our timeline today.
We have covered so much ground just by looking
closely at one comprehensive list of names and
dates. We tracked a journey that started with
the party switching Jacksonians and judicial
appointees of the 1820s, navigated the chaotic,
relentless ambition of the Civil War era with
Hannibal incredibly long -sleeving senators of
the modern era. It's quite a ride. It really
proves the point we made at the start. What looks
like a dry data set actually holds the entire
narrative arc of American political evolution.
It absolutely does. The history is all there
if you know how to read between the lines. Yeah.
But before we wrap up, I want to leave you with
a final lingering thought. There's one hidden
detail in this timeline that we haven't discussed
yet, and it is arguably the most bizarre entry
on the entire page. What did we miss? If you
look closely at Maine's Class II Senate seat
right in the middle of the 19th century, there
is a glaring gap. From March 4, 1853, all the
way to February 10, 1854, the seat sat completely
empty. It was vacant for almost a full year.
An entire year in the middle of the 1850s. What
caused that? The official reason listed in the
historical record is remarkably brief. It simply
says, legislature failed to elect. To understand
this, you have to remember that before the 17th
Amendment was ratified in 1913, Everyday citizens
did not vote for their U .S. senators. Your local
state representatives held the power to choose
them. So in 1853, the Maine state legislature
was so bitterly divided by internal factions,
arguments over slavery, prohibition, and regional
power, that they literally could not agree on
a single candidate for an entire year. They were
so stubborn, they just left the seat empty. Exactly.
I want you to mull this over. We complain endlessly
today about modern political gridlock in Washington.
But imagine the sheer behind -the -scenes dysfunction,
the intense, unyielding stubbornness it must
have taken for a state legislature to simply
fail to elect a representative. It's almost unimaginable
today. At a pure partisan spite in gridlock,
they willingly left their own state with only
half a voice in the United States Senate for
nearly an entire year. It makes you wonder, are
we really any worse off today? Or is intense
political gridlock just a feature of the system
that has been there all along? Imagine how a
year -long vacancy due to pure legislative stubbornness
would be received by the public today. Half a
voice for a whole year. That is an incredible
image and a fascinating bit of perspective to
end on. Thank you so much for joining us on this
deep dive. We hope you've enjoyed unpacking the
hidden histories of the U .S. Senate with us,
and we will catch you next time.