Crawfish Springs is located on the east side of Cove Road in the town of Chickamauga, Georgia and a short distance to the south of the intersection of Cove Road and Crittenden Avenue. The area appears on the Kensington, Georgia quadrangle of the U. S. Geological Survey maps.

Wartime view of Crawfish Springs.

HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE
Crawfish Spring was the first name for the modern community of Chickamauga, Georgia. The name is derived from an abundant supply of crawfish that live in the spring. During the present study one was noted that, although partly eaten by a raccoon, it was from ten to twelve inches in length. Before Indian removal, a group of Cherokees lived in this area, and the courthouse for their Chickamauga District was located near the spring. The spring later became the focal point of James Gordon's 2,500 acre plantation.

Before the Battle of Chickamauga, Surgeon Glover Perin, the U.S. Medical Director for the Army of The Cumberland, met with General Rosecrans concerning location for field hospitals. As soon as the Federal army had crossed Lookout Mountain, Surgeon Perin made immediate disposition to have medical supplies forwarded, and began looking for suitable places for hospitals prepared for the reception of wounded. While reflecting on the local geography, his primary considerations were suitable roads to transport the wounded and available water. "The ridge that divides the valley of Chickamauga from that of Chattanooga," he later wrote, "was traversed in several places by wagon roads. It was by these roads that our wounded must be conveyed to the rear. The wagon road down the Chickamauga Valley was near the base of this ridge, on the south side, where there were but few springs ... Our wounded were to be provided for at these springs ... After consulting with the general commanding, I selected Crawfish Spring as the main depot for the wounded. Division hospitals for the Twentieth and Twenty-first Corps, together with two divisions of the Fourteenth Corps, were accordingly established at this point."

The choice of Crawfish Spring for the main Federal hospital depot made the Gordon house a focal point throughout the battle of Chickamauga. The 14th Army Corps, led by General George H. Thomas, spent most of the night marching by the spring. "The head of the column reached Kelly's farm about daylight on the 19th, Baird's division in front," General Thomas wrote, "and took up a position at the forks of the road, facing toward Reed's and Alexander's Bridges over the Chickamauga ... A narrow field commences at a point about a fourth of a mile south of Kelly's house ... The eastern slope of Missionary Ridge, between Glenn's and Kelly's, is cleared and mostly under cultivation. This position of Baird's threw my right in close proximity to Wilder's brigade, the interval I intended to fill up with the two remaining brigades of Reynolds division on their arrival. General Brannan, closely following Baird's division, was placed in position on his left, on the two roads leading from the State road to Reed's and Alexander's Bridges.

Fighting began in the area of Jay's Mill and soon spread south over a wide front with multiple points of action extending almost as far down as Lee and Gordon's Mills. While the fighting was indecisive, the action produced many casualties. While there were regimental aid stations set up in the field, Crawfish Spring was established as the central hospital depot for the entire army. "The wounded of the 2nd division were removed to a temporary hospital immediately in the rear," Surgeon Jabez Perkins, serving on the 20th Army Corps Medical Staff from the 10 th Kentucky Infantry Regiment [Federal], "and those of the1st and 3rd divisions to the vicinity of Crawfish Spring, on the right and rear of our line of battle. At this point we occupied a large brick building [the Gordon House] with a number of out-houses for hospital purposes, and to these were added such hospital tents as were in our possession. In addition to the wounded of the Twentieth Corps, a large portion of the Fourteenth Corps were brought here, it being the nearest point at which they could obtain water. By eight o'clock in the morning every place of shelter was full, and a large number were yet unprovided for."

Crawfish Spring -- site of the main Federal Army hospital complex during the battle of Chickamauga.

"One brigade became engaged with the enemy from which several were wounded. Surgeon R. G. Bogue, 19th Illinois Infantry in the Second Division of the 14th Army Corps, stated. "They were removed to Widow Gordon's house at Crawfish Spring, their wounds dressed and they were put to bed. About 4 o'clock P.M., the troops having nearly all passed beyond this point, I had all, except two who were very severely wounded loaded into ambulances and moved toward the left as the battle had been in progress in that direction for several hours. I thought the hospitals would be established in that direction. After going about one mile, I met wounded men in large numbers being taken back toward the spring. Still moving further toward the left, I met Assistant Surgeon D. Bache, U.S.A., assistant medical director of the department of the Cumberland, who informed me that all wounded were to be sent to the spring, as there would be the great depot for them."

The summer had been extremely dry, and the most reliable source of water in the area was Crawfish Springs. This was the major reason that it was selected as the central Federal hospital area. Many of the Federal soldiers who passed this way in September 1863 commented in a highly favorable way on the quality of the water that bubbled out from the rocks at this spring. Colonel John Sanderson remarked that "the spring here is a magnificent one, affording an abundant supply, for man and beast of the entire army, of cool, soft, delicious water." The spring, he further stated, "runs out of a hill and forms a very large creek."

"Crawfish Spring is a curiosity of itself," John Beach, historian of the 40 th Ohio Infantry Regiment, wrote after the war, "a great column of water bursting out from the base of a hill, and well worth a visit from Chattanooga. About the spring was located the hospital for the right wing of our army as Cloud Spring was selected for the same purpose for the left wing on September 19, 1863."

Another soldier who was at the spring on September 19, 1863, was George H. Putney, of the 37th Indiana Infantry Regiment. "After going some distance," he stated, "we came to Crawfish Springs. There we were permitted to fill our canteens, which we gladly did, as we knew the importance of water in a bottle. What a beautiful spring of water that was and is! Think of going from that pure life-giving fountain of clear, cold water, springing up in great abundance, to a great and dreadful battle where smoke and dust and toil and wounds and death hold high carnival. That is war!"

"[It was] after an all nights' long and weary march," Dr. William B. Graham, regimental surgeon of the 101st Indiana Infantry Regiment, stated, "that we were ushered into the bloody battle of Chickamauga. We were allowed just time enough to make coffee and drink it, when the call into line was sounded; and we were at once on our way to the field of carnage. I was at once stationed in a small ravine immediately in the rear of the brigade, with orders to care temporarily for the wounded, put them in ambulances, and send then to the Field Hospital. I had been attending to this duty but a short time, when I received orders to immediately ship all the wounded back to the hospital at once, as our line was broken, and the enemy was coming, which I did, and mounted my horse and rode back to the hospital. I immediately met Dr. C. N. Fowler, the Brigade surgeon, who told me that Col. Doan, commanding my Regiment, had sent an orderly for me to come to the regiment, and ordered me to go at once, which I undertook to do. You can imagine how difficult it would be for me to find my regiment after it had constituted a part of a broken line of battle."

The Federal reserve force at Crawfish Springs included the 19th Illinois Infantry Regiment of Stanley's Brigade. One of the men in the regiment, Corporal James Fenton, later recorded his memories of that day. "At early dawn on the morning of the 19th of September, the advance of General Thomas's Troops, after all night march and a part of the day before, reached Crawfish Springs, tired, thirsty, and all covered with dust from a road nearly shoe-top deep with a thick splurgy dust that was partially damp from a slight rain the night before. The equipment and faces of the soldiers were black with this dust, it just raised enough to cover everyone a dark color. Every soldier in that nights march knew that the Confederate army was moving on the other side of the Chickamauga to gain the road that led to Chattanooga. The fences had been set on fire to give the enemy the impression we were lying in the battlefield. On reaching Crawfish Springs, the 19th Illinois, the advance of Negley's division was detached from the line, Companies I and K were deployed in front of the Spring, the rest of the regiment in reserve. Instantly the enemy opened [upon] us with a battery from the other side of Chickamauga River. This was the opening of the great battle; almost at the same time, our cavalry and mounted infantry were heard disputing the enemy at the fords and bridges away to our left, on the battle ground proper. Crawfish Springs gushes out at the foot of a small bluff, a sheet of the finest water, some 50 feet wide and over a foot in depth; being dammed up at the Lee and Gordon Mill on the Chickamauga it made a beautiful lake up to within 150 yards of the spring proper. Bridges's battery now took a position on a sloping garden in front of a fine brick house [the Gordon-Lee House] back from the spring, and replied to the Rebel battery. Our battery, on account of its exposed positions, was roughly handled and a gun dismounted and a caisson blown up and several killed and wounded. Another battery soon took its place and this duel was kept up for some time ... We lying down on the skirmish line to the right of Company K, close to the road would be asked by these troops [going to the front] where that firing was and we pointed out to the left ... the troops, tired, hungry, and thirsty, covered with dust were not allowed to break ranks to get water. In some regiments in spite of officers, men rushed down and waded across the sheet of water, dragging a canteen or a large cup, to get a drink. That was the last water hundreds of them saw ... Both sides rushed in troops by brigades and divisions. It was charge and countercharge, until past noon, and some of the most desperate fighting of the war was taking place. We lying on the skirmish line at Crawfish Springs listened to the roar of battle and saw the great clouds of powder smoke rising over the field, but could not see the battle. We looked at one another but not much was said. Some would say that is the Rebs charging and soon would hear our men charge, as the yells were quite different."

Dr. Graham continued to try to find his regiment. "I rode back at random, however," he wrote, "and rode through the break in the line, and succeeded in being shot at several times, when I realized where I was, and retreated at once. I rode a swift horse, and my retreat was rapid. As I rode back I saw a squad of soldiers of our army, and I rode towards them, and one of them, John Powell, of the 75th Ind. Vols. raised his gun to shoot at me, thinking I was a rebel; when a comrade told him not to shoot, as it might be one of our own men. When I rode up, he stepped up to me and told me the circumstances of how near he came to shooting at me. I then rode back to the hospital, and reported to Dr. O. C. H., our Division Surgeon, as good a man, by the way as ever wore shoulder straps, and who is now numbered among the brave dead, and he told me to report to the General hospital at Crawfish Springs, and do what I could for the wounded there, and pay no attention to any order from any one else."

"During the afternoon, about half-past three o'clock," Surgeon W. W. Blair wrote, "our situation seemed somewhat hazardous, and, upon the medical director's advise, I had the entire encampment moved to a point more directly to the rear of where the battle was then raging. Later that evening, Surgeon G. Perin, U.S.A., directed that the wounded should all be taken to Crawfish Spring or its vicinity, and I accordingly returned to the ground I had left but a few hours before."

Throughout the night, the screams and cries of the wounded and dying could be heard on the battle-field. The fate of the wounded was such that many men preferred to be killed outright. When a man was hit during combat, his first source of assistance was the comrade next to him. If the wound was slight it would be bandaged and the fighting would go on. If more serious, but still leaving the man able to walk, he was expected to make his way to the regimental aid station in the rear. Before an action, men from each regiment were assigned duty as stretcher bearers. It was their job to carry the wounded who could not walk. If the man was wounded during an attack he was left where he fell. He could only hope that he would not be hit again by shells or rifle bullets flying overhead. If he survived these dangers, he was still subject to being trampled or run over by friendly or enemy soldiers or by horses and wagons passing back and forth in waves of panic or controlled frenzy. If still alive after that, he would hope that the litter bearers would arrive before he bled to death, died or thirst, or succumbed to the elements.

Litter bearers from each regiment collected all who could not walk and delivered them to an aid station located just beyond enemy musket fire. Those who could not be evacuated under fire were brought out under cover of darkness, or as soon after the battle as possible. At the aid station, assistant surgeons examined the wounds, applied dressings and ligatures where needed, and sent the men by ambulance to the field hospital. Again, those who were able were expected to walk.

Wilbur Hineman, the historian of Harker's Brigade, walked through the thick dust on the LaFayette Road for more than three miles to Crawfish Springs after being shot through the right elbow during the after-noon. He reached the spring at dusk, and reported to the hospital tent of his division. The brigade surgeon called to him to wait as he bandaged the stump of an amputated arm. Hineman sat down and contemplated his surrounding. "A field hospital just after a battle," he later wrote, "is the most grewsome and harrowing picture presented by the changing panorama of war. Words seem to have no meaning when one attempts to portray the awful scenes of suffering and death. All through the hours of that long night, but the light of blazing fires, the surgeons and their assistants moved about among the hundreds that lay upon cots or upon the ground around the tents, stanching the wounds and administering food and cordials and water to the suffers. Often a pulseless, motionless form was borne away and laid in the fast lengthening row of those to whom death had come."

"Every effort was made to place the men under shelter," Surgeon Glover Perin, Medical Director of the Army stated, "but particularly to provide them with covering, as the night was cold. When this could not he done, the men were arranged in rows near each other and lines of camp-fires were built at their feet."

"The night was extremely cold for the season," Surgeon Perkins stated, "yet those compelled to remain out were rendered comparatively comfortable by large fires and such bedding as we could command. An abundance of nourishment in the form of beef soup, coffee, etc., was provided for all, and their wounds were dressed as rapidly as possible under the circumstances."

Extensive fires were kept up all night," Surgeon W. W. Blair wrote, "and my medical officers and attendants labored faithfully to alleviate the unutterable suffering with which we were surrounded."

Dr. Graham reported to the hospital center at Crawfish Spring. "I at once repaired to the general hospital" he stated. "It was evening, and I found the whole neighborhood covered with wounded and dead. I hitched my horse and went to work. I soon found Sergeant Miller of Co. D, 101st Ind. Vols. wounded in the hip by a minnie ball which I extracted. I worked until far into the night. In my rounds I found C. S. W. Petijohn in one of the hospitals, shot through the right lung. I spoke to him and asked him what was the trouble, and he told me he was shot through the breast. I examined him and found a wound passing through the lung, and at every inspiration the blood would bubble out at the wound. He said, Dock, for God's sake do something for me, for I cannot stand it much longer. I thought so too. I studied a moment and thought nothing would do him much good, but decided to give him a drink of whiskey. I procured a half teacup full and brought it, and held up his head and he swallowed it. I then dressed his wound and left him, thinking he would be dead in the morning; but I found him better, and he said then, and many times to me since the war, that the whiskey saved his life."

"On the morning of the 20th," Surgeon Perin, Medical Director of the Army, stated, "the movement of the army to the left continued. Our hospital to the right becoming more distant and communication with them precarious ... Communication with Crawfish Spring, the main hospital depot, was cut off; the position, too, was becoming quite unsafe."

"About one o'clock ... ," Surgeon Perkins, with McCook's 20th Army Corps, stated, "our right having been given way, the enemy got between us and our hospital at Crawfish Spring. General Mitchell, with a large cavalry force, was guarding the spring, but it was evident that he would be compelled to abandon this position. I was on the left at the time, and cut off by the enemy from our hospitals on the right. Surgeon Luther D. Wateman, 39th Indiana Volunteers, and Surgeon Griffiths, however, made their arrangements as judiciously and as rapidly as possible for leaving, and Colonel Boyd, our
corps quartermaster, being present, with commendable promptness collected a large number of empty wagons, which having been partly filled with straw, were with the available ambulances, loaded with wounded, and conducted across Missionary Hills to the Lookout Valley road and thence to Chattanooga."

Dr. Graham had planned to return to his regiment on the battlefield. "Later on," he recalled, "I went to get my horse and it was stolen. I was busy all the next day at work in the hospital. That was Sept. 20th . In the afternoon we were informed that our army was whipped, and that if we escaped being captured, we should fly at once. Some left, but quite a number remained. I think I should have left, but for the constant importuning of some of our wounded boys not to leave them."

"Although these officers labored faithfully," Surgeon Perin, Medical Director of the Army, stated, "to remove all the wounded from Crawfish Spring, it was found impracticable. Medical officers were, therefore, detailed to remain, and provisions were distributed in such a manner as to insure for the benefit of the patients during the confusion that must result immediately after a battle ... About one thousand five hundred of the graver cases were left on this part of the field ... Great care was taken by the surgeons-in-chief of divisions to detail medical officers with the necessary dressings, medicines, etc., to remain, and provisions were usually divided out among the men to prevent possible suffering from hunger. In the retreat, every vehicle, baggage wagon, and supply train, as well as ambulances, were filled with wounded."

"By request of Doctor Blair," John J. Hight, the chaplain of the 58th Indiana Infantry Regiment, wrote on September 20, "I started early with our Regimental ambulance, driven by John Everett, to hunt up our wounded in the various hospitals. We first visited Van Cleve's and Palmer's. At the former we found several of our men and took them to our own hospital. We then went to Reynolds and Davis. By this time the battle was already raging. I had hoped that the quiet of the Sabbath would not be broken. When I arrived at our hospital, I made out a list of the killed, wounded and missing, as far as I could gain the necessary information. Soon wounded men from our Brigade began to arrive. All reported that our men were being driven. None of the 58th were brought in. Two pieces of artillery, which were at the brick house [the Gordon-Lee House] near Crawfish Springs, were taken to the left. The cavalry went out and returned. About eleven a.m. the cavalry formed immediately in front of the hospital, thus indicating that Gordon's Mills had been abandoned by our infantry. It was plain that the day was lost, utterly and irretrievably lost. What must I do? If I remain with the wounded, and fall into rebel hands, I can not hope for proper treatment, for the rebels utterly despise Yankee preachers. As for leaving, I could not think of doing so without orders, unless I went to the Regiment, and they were driven I knew not where. So I saddled my horse, and 'waited for something to turn up.' I suppose it was when Doctor Phelps, of General Crittenden's staff, rode up and ordered that every man and thing, that could be, should be moved towards Chattanooga by the hill road. It was pitiful to leave our brave and suffering men in the hands of the rebels. 'You are not going to leave us, are you?' asked the silent and suffering Captain Davis of Company A. 'Can you not get an ambulance, and take us?' said Sergeant Keeler, of Company B, meaning himself and the old sharpshooter, Gilbert Armstrong. I went to see, but never returned to communicate the negative. I never expected to see them again. All who could walk were sent forward. The wagons were loaded up and the train started. Doctors Holtzman and Downey, Steward Brunch, Anthony Lindsey and John A. Baldwin remained to care for our wounded. The cavalry left our front and took up the valley, parallel to the hill road and next [to] Lookout Mountain. It was a motley train and crowd that moved along the hill road between Crawfish Springs and Missionary Ridge. There were M.D.s in abundance. There were musicians carrying drums and saxehorns, with the usual red rag to tell the tale of their devotions to the wounded. There were parsons, with straight coats and sad faces. Of Negroes there were every shade and size, but the accustomed grin was gone! The order was 'Close up! Close up!' but the long train moved slow, like 'That memorable caravan that moves to the pale realms, where each shall take his chamber in the silent halls of death.' There was no haste and no confusion. You might hear almost anything you pleased. All kinds of tales were floating along the line. It was said first that we were 'going up here to a valley, where water was plenty.' But we continued on our winding way until we reached Chattanooga. It must have been midnight when the remains of our hospital sought rest on the ground near the Brown hospitals."