Thursday, May 21st.
I left with Decca Stark. There was no incident worth mentioning between Columbia and Winsboro. We met Stark Means at the depot. He is in fine health and only limping a little from his wound. Chester, Charlotte and Raleigh all larger and more city-like than I expected. We passed Concord and Salisbury at night. It is twenty years since last I saw any of them, and my sweet mother was present then. I was a boy nine years old. I recollected leaving a whip on the mantlepiece of the Charlotte Hotel at that time, and I have never forgotten it. Mr. Crist, at Gott’s Hotel, in Salem, made this whip for me. I am now at Raleigh, and since I am separated with my friends (perhaps forever) I wish I was with old Company E.
