General Garland is brought to his tent dead.

Sep. 14—Our Brigade goes out at 4:30 a. m. My horse being lame, I cannot go. General Garland is brought to his tent dead. I go to see him. A few days ago I saw him under different circumstances that will make me admire him forever. His Brigade was crossing a stream on a narrow footway. His men began to plunge into the little stream, up to their knees. He knew it would be bad for them to march with wet feet. He drew up his fiery horse in the road in the water and stayed there till his entire command had passed, pointing to the narrow bridge and shouting to the men, compelling them to take time and go over in single file. That manly form now lies before me silent but “speaking.” Hear Captain Wicker is wounded. At midnight wagons move circuitously to Williamsport. I start to my regiment and find everybody moving silently. Coming near Boonsboro, I feel lonely as I see not a form on the pike. Enter town and see Division after Division passing toward the west.