For years, historians have held up the Lincoln-Douglas debates of 1858 as the gold standard of political discourse. But at the time, critics were not so kind. Journalists complained that the debates were “not interactive enough” and suffered from “boring optics”; still others hungered for a debate that would “change the narrative of the race.” Responding to the criticism, Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas agreed to participate in a debate that used the just-invented “town hall” format, with both candidates taking questions from the audience:

Lincoln: And so, to conclude my opening statement: in relation to the principle that all men are created equal, let it be as nearly reached as we can. If we cannot give freedom to every creature, let us do nothing that will impose slavery upon any other creature.

Moderator: The first question is for Mr. Lincoln.

Questioner #1: Mr. Lincoln, why do you wear that dumb hat?

Lincoln: My hat? Well, I suppose most of us would agree that a man’s hat is not nearly so important as what resides beneath it.

(Lincoln laughs good-naturedly. The audience responds with stony silence. A baby cries.)

Questioner #1: You didn’t answer my question. Your hat is dumb. Why do you wear it?

Lincoln (a little off-balance): Well, I haven’t given it much thought, really—but I suppose a hat is only as good as the head it’s…

Moderator: I’m sorry, Mr. Lincoln, your time is up. The next question is for Judge Douglas.

Questioner #2: Judge Douglas, do you think Mr. Lincoln’s hat looks dumb?

Douglas (forcefully): Yes.

(Audience applauds.)

Questioner #2: No further questions.

Moderator: The next question is for Mr. Lincoln.

Questioner #3: What kind of weird name is Abraham?

Lincoln: Well, Abraham, of course, is from the Book of Genesis, in the Bible.

Questioner #3: Isn’t it also from the Koran?

Lincoln: Well, yes, but…

Questioner #3: Then why didn’t you say so?

Lincoln: If you’ll kindly let me finish…

Questioner #3 (firmly): Is it or is it not a name from the Koran? Yes or no answer.

Lincoln (after a pause): Yes.

(Loud grumbling from the audience.)

Questioner #3: No further questions.

Moderator: The next question is for Judge Douglas.

Questioner #4: My question for Judge Douglas is this: Would you ask Mr. Lincoln a question for me?

Douglas: I’d be happy to.

Lincoln: Now hold on here just a minute! That’s against the rules!

Moderator: And what rules are those exactly, Mr. Lincoln?

Lincoln (sputtering): Well, I don’t know the specific … but there has to be … I mean, there should be some rule against doing what he just did.

(Derisive laughter from audience.)

Moderator: Mr. Lincoln, I must warn you that one more outburst like that and you will forfeit your right to speak for the rest of the debate.

Lincoln (sheepishly): Sorry.

Moderator: Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to the good man who asked the question.

Lincoln (to Questioner #4): I’m sorry.

Moderator: Now tell him you won’t do it again.

Lincoln (through gritted teeth): I won’t do it again.

Moderator (to Questioner #4): Please continue with your question to Judge Douglas.

Questioner #4: I want you to ask Mr. Lincoln why he wears that dumb hat.

The debate continued in a similar vein for three more hours, as audience members peppered Lincoln with questions about his hat, posture, weak chin, and warts. The evening ended with a triumphant Stephen Douglas diving headfirst off the stage, the crowd catching him and passing him from row to row like a championship trophy; meanwhile, a drained Abraham Lincoln slouched away in defeat, pelted with tomatoes and other local Illinois produce. Journalists pronounced the debate a “game changer” for Douglas, whose ratings soared afterwards in America’s historic first focus group. As for the future President of the United States, the town-hall experience was nothing short of traumatic. In a letter written shortly after the debate, a downcast Lincoln told his wife, “Mary, I seriously don’t need this shit.”