John Coxe in the 2nd South Carolina, Kershaw's Brigade, left a good account of the train ride in his article on Chickamauga in the
One day, about the middle of September, we got orders to cook rations and get ready to march. The next morning we started, and at night bivouacked near Richmond. The next day we promptly boarded trains and went south. Our division, under McLaws, and Hood's Division, all under Longstreet, went on this lively excursion. It was whispered that we were going to help Bragg out at Chattanooga, where he was being pressed by Rosecrans. Hood's Division went ahead of ours. Our own brigade, under the ever-smiling and good-natured Kershaw, went via Petersburg, Weldon, Wilmington, Florence, Charleston, Savannah, Millen, Macon, and Atlanta. Some of the other units of the expedition went different routes. We stopped two hours at Wilmington, near the crossing of the Cape Fear, which was then by steam ferry. We could see only part of the town, but we had a good view up the river, and it was very enchanting in the rays of the near-setting sun. But my most thrilling thoughts traveled farther up the Cape Fear to Fayetteville, where lived one I knew, alas, too well.
It was dark when we crossed the river and entrained on the other side. Soon after getting under way, bad luck overtook us. The engine drawing our train was in bad order, and slow progress and many stops to allow the engineer to "tinker" with his machine greatly delayed us. One long stop was made in front of a large turpentine distillery, not then in operation. Hundreds of barrels of resin were stacked up, and turpentine covered the ground in many places. It was quite cold, and some of the men set fire to a few barrels of resin. Soon the fire spread and couldn't be controlled. General Kershaw delivered a lecture in which he enjoined the men in future to be more careful of the preservation of private property. As our train started ahead, the fire reached the distillery and buildings, and doubtless all were completely consumed.
The next morning we found that we had progressed only forty miles during the entire night. About ten A.M. our engineer side-tracked the train and the conductor telegraphed to Florence, S. C, for another engine, which arrived in the middle of the afternoon. But, dear me! Our new machine seemed in worse condition than that hooked to our train. It was old, wheezy, and leaked steam in many places, while the water gushed from the tender in several streams. We laughed, but had little hope of better conditions. However, that old rattletrap of an engine surprised us in its ability to move that train. Pulling out of the siding slowly, it struck the main track with a blatant snort and then astonished us by the high speed it made, stopping only, but a little frequently, for water. We got to Florence long before night, but didn't get off for Charleston till some time during the night. In those days you had to change cars at the end of each company's line. I recall Florence, S. C, of that day as a pretty little town in the piney woods.
We got to Charleston at 11 a.m., and the first thing we heard after the noise of our train stopped was the booming of great guns in the harbor and on the islands near by. The siege of Charleston was then in full swing. From the depot we marched through the upper part of the city and over the Ashley River, stopping in a pine grove near the water and the Savannah railroad. Here we rested about an hour, looking at the old city and the harbor. Our train being ready, we got aboard and were off through the rice fields for Savannah. I recollect one stop at "Poke-He-Tail-He-Go," and we got to Savannah at 4 p.m. Our train on the Georgia Central being already made up and ready, we got on and started for Macon. The track of this road was straight as a shingle, and I recall only one turn in it before night came on. The cars were good, and our train went on at a high rate of speed through a beautiful country of fine old homes and numerous herds and flocks of of fat cattle and sheep. Somebody said it was ten p.m. when our train got to Millen, which was a junction. Here we detrained for supper; yes, supper! For immediately we were marched into a large, airy dining hall especially fitted up for just such hungry chaps as we. And such service and victuals we found in there! All things good to eat seemed to be there in great plenty, and at first some of us wondered whether we were still in our own beloved South. Turkey, chicken, hot biscuits, coffee, sweet potato pies and puddings, fine corn bread, baked pork, and ever so many other good things. And then, perhaps the best of all to at least many of us was the galaxy of fine and beautiful young Southern women who served us. At this interval of time, I recollect the name of only one, and her name was "Miss Mattie Wooding." She was just lovely in every way one could think of. She was blonde, had a charming form, a pretty mouth and teeth, a touching smile, large, laughing blue eyes, and, withal, an alluring personality that attracted one's attention as long as she was in sight. Where, O where, is that Miss Mattie Wooding now?
Resuming our journey at a late hour, we got to Macon next morning and at once started on to Atlanta, where we arrived about noon. We found a railroad congestion there in consequence of a block of troops and freight on the Western and Atlantic Railroad, then the only direct line open to Chattanooga and Bragg's army. A train was made up for us and we got aboard, but didn't start till 9 p.m. But here occurred more engine trouble. Our little engine, named "Kentucky," was too light for the weight of our train and had much difficulty climbing grades. I went to sleep, but was waked up a little before daylight by the noise of the "Kentucky" trying to "puff up" the grade of Allatoona Mountain. She made three efforts before she made it up to the station at the top by daylight. We ran to Cartersville, and stopped two hours to allow our engineer to work on the cylinders of the engine. Apparently he made a good job of it, because we ran on without farther hitch till we got to Dalton, Ga., about the middle of that cold and dreary afternoon. And here we found a complete tie up. There were many trains there, and every piece of siding was jammed with them. On account of burned bridges, trains could run only twelve miles farther, and though there was a large railroad water tank at Dalton, yet there was no water for the engines, and the tender of our engine was nearly empty. It was said that the pump of the tank was broken. There was great confusion, engineers, conductors, fireman, and many army officers and soldiers making all sorts of suggestions for relieving the situation, but no relief came. The weather was windy and cold. At last, toward night, General Kershaw took the matter in hand so far as our train was concerned. Procuring about twenty water buckets from somewhere, he ordered our train forward to a creek about two miles distant. Here a bucket squad from water to tender was formed. This was in the nature of an endless chain, and after an hour's such work, the tank of our tender was supplied sufficiently for all present needs. And then our train proceeded to the burned bridge over the east branch of the Chickamauga River, where it stopped about 11 p.m. in a cornfield. Most of us were asleep when the order to disembark was shouted through the freight "coaches" and waked us up. We got off on the right and saw across the field a large clump of timber, about a quarter of a mile away, and we were at once ordered to march over there and build up fires, for the night air was frosty.
https://archive.org/stream/confederateveter301922#page/290/mode/2up