and had nothing further to prove, while in a Democrat-controlled state a Whig could not seriously expect to win the governorship. He may have had the idea of running for the state Senate, but if so it came to nothing. More significantly, he was chosen as a Whig “presidential elector” for the campaign of 1840, when he stumped the state for the party’s nominee, William Henry Harrison, and once more in 1844, when he traveled even farther afield on behalf of his “beau ideal of a statesman,” Henry Clay. This gave him experience of, as well as an appetite for, politics on a larger stage. Lincoln may already have had his sights fixed on the United States Congress when he finally left the state Assembly in 1841. It is certain that when John Todd Stuart revealed that he did not intend to seek reelection as congressman in 1843, Lincoln was determined to throw his hat into the ring. 11
The newly formed Seventh Congressional District embraced the areas of greatest Whig strength in the state. Whoever won the Whig nomination would surely go on to win the congressional election. The district also boasted many of the ablest Whig leaders. Lincoln’s hunger for his party’s nomination was obvious, and he worked energetically for support. He told a fellow lawyer, Richard S. Thomas: “If you should hear any one say that Lincoln don’t want to go to Congress, I wish you . . . would tell him you have reason to believe he is mistaken. The truth is, I would like to go very much.” When his great friend and glittering rival, Edward D. Baker, instead won the support of the Sangamon County Whigs, Lincoln was bitterly upset. As one of the delegates appointed to carry that endorsement to the district convention, he considered himself “ ‘fixed’ a good deal like a fellow who is made groomsman to the man what has cut him out, and is marrying his own dear ‘gal.’ ” 12 He did nothing to hinder Baker’s nomination but sought equally to prevent any drifting away of his own support in the counties where he was strong. When the delegates met, at Pekin in May 1843, both men suffered disappointment, losing out to the gifted and equally ambitious John J. Hardin of Jacksonville. But Lincoln usefully secured the adoption of a resolution which in effect limited Hardin to a single congressional term in Washington, to be followed by Baker. It implicitly left open the possibility of his own nomination two elections on. Even so, the depth of Lincoln’s disappointment may be measured by what looked like a rare act of vengeance, his refusal to cast a ballot for Hardin when election day arrived.
As hoped, Baker took the Seventh District in 1844. Lincoln, his own ambitions bound up in the outcome, earnestly supported him. But the real test of Lincoln’s mettle and single-mindedness would lie in the next contest. He began to make moves in September 1845, almost a year before polling day. Securing from Baker a promise not to run against him, Lincoln visited Hardin, who would make no such pledge. Six months of political fencing followed, during which Lincoln kept the initiative, thanks essentially to his use of the Pekin agreement of 1843 and the argument that “Turn about is fair play.” 13 By not running in 1844 Hardin had appeared to endorse the idea of “rotation of office,” though he now denied it and declared the principle antirepublican. 14 Many of the party’s leaders thought well of the Jacksonville Whig, but some had already committed themselves to Lincoln before Hardin had declared his interest. Lincoln made delicate and effective use of the press, especially in Sangamon and the pivotal northern counties, and encouraged the idea that Hardin should run for governor, not Congress. Outflanked, Hardin charged Lincoln with impropriety and “maneuvering” in pursuit of the nomination. Striving to control his temper, Lincoln managed, crucially, to keep the worst of their differences from the press. Hardin withdrew from the field as