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.
SOURCE: John Camden
West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a
Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, pp. 48-9
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