Con­fes­sion plays a sig­nif­i­cant role in under­stand­ing Major Anderson’s emo­tion­al tur­moil as he faced piv­otal deci­sions dur­ing the lead-up to the Civ­il War. While sta­tioned at Fort Sumter, Anderson’s efforts to com­mu­ni­cate were hin­dered by pro­longed mail deliv­ery delays of three to four days, which deep­ened his sense of iso­la­tion. With dis­trust sur­round­ing the tele­graph sys­tem due to fears of inter­cep­tion, the mail became the only reli­able means of com­mu­ni­ca­tion for both Union and Con­fed­er­ate forces, despite its own set of vul­ner­a­bil­i­ties. This lack of reli­able com­mu­ni­ca­tion only inten­si­fied the strain on Ander­son as he tried to stay con­nect­ed with his supe­ri­ors while con­tend­ing with the loom­ing threat of con­flict.

On April 7, Ander­son was shocked to receive an unex­pect­ed copy of Pres­i­dent Lincoln’s orders to resup­ply Fort Sumter, under a plan devised by Cap­tain Gus­tavus Fox. This rev­e­la­tion direct­ly con­tra­dict­ed Ander­son­’s pre­vi­ous under­stand­ing that the fort would be evac­u­at­ed, caus­ing con­fu­sion and con­cern. The fol­low­ing day, on April 8, Ander­son wrote a pri­vate let­ter to his friend, Adju­tant Gen­er­al Thomas in Wash­ing­ton, ask­ing that the let­ter be destroyed after read­ing. In it, Ander­son expressed his fears that Fox’s expe­di­tion would be per­ceived by the South as a betray­al, which could esca­late ten­sions fur­ther and nul­li­fy pre­vi­ous diplo­mat­ic assur­ances made to Con­fed­er­ate com­mis­sion­ers. Ander­son con­veyed a sense of hope­less­ness, feel­ing it was now too late to offer any advice on the plan that he saw as poten­tial­ly dis­as­trous for all involved.

In his let­ter, Ander­son also shared his frus­tra­tion with his pre­vi­ous lack of knowl­edge about Fox’s expe­di­tion, admit­ting that he had been mis­led by Lincoln’s aide, Ward Lam­on. He reflect­ed on how he had been under the impres­sion that the fort would be evac­u­at­ed, mak­ing the orders to resup­ply feel like an abrupt betray­al of trust. Anderson’s state­ment, “We shall strive to do our duty,” reflect­ed his com­mit­ment to his mil­i­tary oblig­a­tions, yet he also con­fessed, “my heart is not in the war which I see is to be thus com­menced.” His inner con­flict was clear: although he was deter­mined to ful­fill his duty, he did so with a heavy heart, under­stand­ing that the path set before him would lead to a larg­er and more vio­lent con­flict.

Ulti­mate­ly, Anderson’s let­ter, which revealed his emo­tion­al and moral strug­gle, nev­er reached its intend­ed recip­i­ent. Instead, it end­ed up being found on a desk in the Charleston Hotel, a silent tes­ta­ment to his per­son­al dis­tress amid the broad­er tur­moil sur­round­ing Fort Sumter. The let­ter serves as a snap­shot of Anderson’s inter­nal bat­tle, torn between loy­al­ty to his coun­try and the recog­ni­tion that his role in the war was forc­ing him to make deci­sions he was not ful­ly pre­pared to accept. This moment of per­son­al con­fes­sion under­scored the weight of respon­si­bil­i­ty he felt, know­ing that his actions would be part of a much larg­er his­tor­i­cal move­ment that would soon engulf the nation. As ten­sions mount­ed and con­flict seemed inevitable, Anderson’s moral and emo­tion­al strug­gles would become emblem­at­ic of the dif­fi­cult choic­es faced by many in the ear­ly days of the Civ­il War.

This chap­ter sheds light on the emo­tion­al chal­lenges faced by indi­vid­u­als like Ander­son, who found them­selves caught between per­son­al beliefs and the demands of duty. His inter­nal con­flict was not unique, as many offi­cers and sol­diers of the time were forced to rec­on­cile their loy­al­ties to their respec­tive sides with the broad­er impli­ca­tions of the war. The dis­cov­ery of Anderson’s let­ter high­lights how, even in times of con­flict, per­son­al dilem­mas were deeply inter­twined with the unfold­ing his­tor­i­cal events. His deci­sion to pen such a heart­felt con­fes­sion, only for it to be lost amid the chaos, under­scores the per­son­al cost of the war, as indi­vid­u­als were swept up in the tide of his­to­ry, often with­out the clar­i­ty or sup­port they des­per­ate­ly need­ed.