Committees were appointed by each House to inform the President of its organization, and readiness to receive any communication from him. These reported that he would send in to them a written message at noon on Tuesday.1 At the appointed hour, the President's private Secretary, A. J. Glossbrenner, appeared below the bar of the Senate, and announced that he was there by direction of the Chief Magistrate, “to deliver to the Senate a message in writing.” The House of Representatives also received it. It was read to both Houses, and then its parts were referred to appropriate committees, in the usual manner.
The telegraph carried the President's Message quickly to every part of the land. The people sat down to read it with eagerness, and arose from its perusal with brows saddened with the gravest disappointment. This feeling was universal. The Message was full of evidences of faint-hearted-ness and indecision in points where courage and positive convictions should have been apparent in its treatment of the great topic then filling all hearts and minds, and bore painful indications that its author was involved in some perilous dilemma into which he had fallen, and was anxiously seeking a way of escape. The method chosen was most unwise and unfortunate. It recoiled fearfully upon the public character of the venerable President; and, in the estimation of thoughtful men, a reputation gained by many important and useful public services, during a long and active life, was laid in ruins.
In the second paragraph of his Message, the President began the consideration of the troubles which then beset the nation. After recounting some of the blessings then enjoyed by the people, he asked, “Why is it, then, that discontent now so extensively prevails, and the Union of the States, which is the source of all these blessings, is threatened with destruction?” He answered his own question, by alleging, in contradiction of the solemn assurances of leaders in the rising revolt
James Buchanan. |