A Refutation of the Charges Made against the Confederate States of America of Having Authorized the Use of Explosive and Poisoned Musket and Rifle Balls during the Late Civil War of 1861-65

In Short

This book functions as a rigorous, point-by-point rebuttal to a specific claim found in Benson J. Lossing’s Pictorial History of the Civil War. The author argues that Lossing’s assertion—that Confederate troops used barbaric, experimental ammunition—is an unfounded, partisan slander. By examining patent office records, military archives, and personal testimony, the narrative demonstrates that the United States government, not the Confederacy, actually authorized and issued these specific types of projectiles. It is a work of historical advocacy, preserved to clarify the record regarding the tactical conduct of the war.

The Story

The narrative begins with a direct challenge to a pervasive historical allegation. A popular historian of the era, Benson J. Lossing, had claimed in his Pictorial History that he personally recovered explosive and poisoned bullets from the battlefield at Gettysburg, asserting that these were Confederate weapons of war. The author identifies this claim as a representative example of the "insinuating slanders" frequently leveled against the South during the post-war Reconstruction era. To address this, the author initiates a methodical investigation aimed at proving that the Confederate government never authorized, manufactured, or imported such weapons.

The central arc of the argument moves from denial to counter-evidence. The author establishes that there is no corroborating proof for the charge in medical reports, surgical histories of the war, or the files of the Surgeon-General. He then secures written testimonies from high-ranking Confederate officials—including Jefferson Davis and the Chief of Ordnance, Josiah Gorgas—all of whom categorically deny that the Confederate States ever utilized these projectiles. Having cleared the Confederate side, the author shifts his gaze to the North. He reveals that the very projectiles Lossing blamed on the Confederates were, in fact, patented by Northern inventors and officially purchased and issued by the United States War Department.

The investigation delves into the specific patents, such as those held by Elijah D. Williams and Ira W. Shaler, to show that these items were not "poisoned" at all, but were mechanical improvements intended for rifle performance. Regarding the "explosive" charges, the author provides documentation of the Gardiner musket shell, which the United States government purchased by the tens of thousands. He traces the bureaucratic history of these shells, noting that they were issued to the Eleventh Corps and were present at the battle of Gettysburg—the very site where Lossing claimed to have found "Confederate" explosive bullets.

The narrative concludes with a broader critique of the historiography of the period. The author presents official correspondence from the Chief of Ordnance, General A. B. Dyer, who later condemned the use of sensitive explosive balls as barbaric. By exposing the irony that the accuser was the actual employer of the controversial weaponry, the author attempts to strip the charge of its power. He ends by dismissing Lossing as an unreliable historian prone to prejudice and inaccuracy, arguing that the true history of the war must be defended against such fabrications to preserve the honor of the soldiers who fought for the Southern cause.

How It Unfolds

The provocation The author cites a specific note from a widely read history book that accuses the Confederacy of using "fiendish" explosive and poisoned bullets. He frames this as a dangerous, unsubstantiated myth that requires a formal, evidence-based refutation.

The denial of provenance The author consults the records of the Confederate government and the testimonies of surviving military leaders. These sources provide a unified, emphatic rejection of the charge, asserting that such weapons were considered dishonorable and were never part of the Confederate arsenal.

The discovery of the patent record The author turns to the United States Patent Office reports from 1862 and 1863. He reveals that the specific designs of these bullets were patented by Northern inventors and subsequently purchased by the United States government.

The official use of shells The author documents the procurement of thousands of Gardiner explosive shells by the U.S. War Department. He shows that these items were distributed to Union regiments, including those fighting at the battle of Gettysburg.

The moral verdict The book concludes by examining the later attitudes of military authorities toward explosive projectiles. The author contrasts the reality of wartime usage with post-war humanitarian efforts, effectively placing the responsibility for these "barbarous" weapons squarely on the United States government.

The People

Horace Edwin Hayden serves as the investigator and primary voice. A member of various historical societies, he approaches the subject with the precision of a researcher, meticulously collecting archival evidence to clear the reputation of his fellow Confederates. He is motivated by a deep sense of historical duty to correct what he perceives as a profound injustice to the Southern record.

Benson J. Lossing appears as the antagonist of the narrative. As a popular historian, he represents the segment of Northern society the author believes is committed to perpetuating myths about the Confederacy. He is portrayed as a careless, prejudiced, and unreliable chronicler who prioritized sensationalist claims over verifiable fact.

Jefferson Davis and Josiah Gorgas function as the moral anchors of the defense. Through their formal correspondence, they provide the official stance of the defunct Confederate government. They both express that the use of such weapons would have been "abhorrent to civilization" and beneath the standards of the Confederate military establishment.

Samuel Gardiner is the inventor whose shell becomes the focal point of the evidence. His role in the book highlights the disconnect between the battlefield reality and the propaganda of the time; his shells were intended as military technology, but their appearance led to misinformed rumors that the author eventually debunked.

In Its Own Voice

The author begins his argument by identifying the specific, inflammatory claim he intends to disprove.

Many, mostly young men, were maimed in every conceivable way, by every kind of weapon and missile, the most fiendish of which was an explosive and a poisoned bullet, represented in the engraving a little more than half the size of the originals, procured from the battlefield there by the writer.

Following his research into the actual provenance of the controversial ammunition, the author provides the official word from the former Confederate leadership.

Our Government certainly did not manufacture or import such balls, and if any were captured from the enemy, they could probably only have been used in the captured arms for which they were suited.

He concludes by summarizing the necessity of his investigation, framing it as a service to objective historical accuracy.

It is earnestly to be hoped that the facts presented in this paper will forever set at rest the malicious slander so often repeated against the Confederates, by many who are so willing to believe anything against them, of having authorized the use in military warfare of such atrocious and barbarous missiles.

What It's Really About

The book is a post-war defense of Confederate honor, centering on the ethics of warfare during the American Civil War. Beyond the technical debate over bullets, it is fundamentally concerned with the "war of the histories"—the struggle to define the moral character of the combatants in the decades following the surrender. The author asks who has the right to write history and warns against the dehumanization of an enemy through fabricated claims of barbarism. The subtext is a plea for historiographical integrity; it posits that if the victors are allowed to invent the crimes of the defeated, the objective truth of the conflict is lost. It is a work about the persistence of prejudice and the necessity of documentation to combat it.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of military technology or the historiography of the American Civil War will find this a fascinating, if narrow, case study. It provides a rare, direct look at how post-war Southern intellectuals responded to the prevailing Northern narrative. The writing is clear and brisk, driven by the author's indignation and his heavy reliance on official documentation, which makes for a compelling, albeit one-sided, detective story.

However, a contemporary reader should be prepared for the intense, partisan atmosphere of the 1870s. The author’s language is unapologetically defensive, reflecting the political climate of the Reconstruction era. He is deeply invested in the "Lost Cause" perspective, and his dismissal of anyone who holds opposing views is total. Those looking for a balanced military history will not find it here; instead, they will find an articulate, heated argument from the trenches of the historical record. It is a vital primary text for understanding the tensions that defined the post-war era, showing how the struggle for the "truth" of the conflict was just as important as the physical battles themselves. The book remains a testament to how easily "fiendish" myths take root and how laboriously they must be pulled up by the facts.