On the 18th of Jany., 1862, orders came to our Battalion (Brammer’s 1st Battalion of East Tennessee, Cavalry) [Col. Benjamin Branner’s 4th Battalion, Tennessee Cavalry] to prepare two days rations and hold ourselves in readiness to move at any moment. It was understood throughout the Batl. (and I suppose the whole Brigade) that 6 or 7 thousand Federals had crossed Fishing Creek, and we were going to meet them after being in camp for so long a time without doing much fighting.

At dark we were ordered to saddle our horses, and expected to move any minute, therefore did not sleep of any consequence. At eleven o’clock we were on our horses and took up line of march in rear of the artillery, the infantry going in front. We marched over very bad roads in the rain, for about nine mile. The slow progress of the Artillery allowed me to get several broken naps, by dismounting and rolling myself in my blanket and lying on the ground with bridle in hand, until they could move on, after being stalled in some mud-hole, or other bad place in the road.

At daylight or a little after, picket firing commenced about 1-1/2 miles in advance of us, when we reached the scene of action and were thrown into line just in rear of the artillery. There was a brisk firing kept up in the infantry which grew more fierce every minute, volley or [of] musketry after volley was fired without intermission.
Soon the artillery commenced their fire, which with the sounds of their balls whizzing by and the whistling minnie balls over our heads made it still more fierce. The fight had progressed about an hour when we heard of the death of Genl. Zollicoffer, which threw a damper over the whole Army.

While our Batal. stood in this exposed position, I saw a ball (6 pounder) coming in my direction, striking the ground about 12 feet in front. It glanced and struck the horse on my right in the eye; knocked the horse down, throwing the rider; but to my surprise both horse and rider rose and took their places in line. The horse on my left was also shot in the shoulder by a minnie ball; it broke his shoulder and he was left on the field.

The enemy was driven back to their entrenchments more than once, but were re-enforced in such numbers that our inferior force could not stand their ground and had to give way. The infantry broke ranks. I do not know what regiment made the break. We (cavalry) were ordered to fall back some distance and to try to stop the infantry, who were leaving, but in this we failed. Retreat was ordered. We were to cover the retreat, and this we did by allowing the infantry to go in front of the retreat.

The enemy bro’t their artillery to the hospital in which our wounded were and still played on us with a few pieces as we left. We were then ordered to stop at the forks of the road about five miles from our camp, to prevent the enemy from surrounding and cutting us off, while the infantry passed. We got into camp about 2 o’clock in the evening. At 5-1/2 o’clock the enemy attacked our breastworks with artillery, and I understood attempted with their infantry, but were driven back by McClung’s Battery.

Our Batal. was ordered to saddle horses and I suppose we were going to try to drive back the enemy, but formed in lines between our camp and the River (Note: This was probably the Rockcastle River or upper branch of the Cumberland) [this note is found in the typescript; the river was, of course, the Cumberland itself], to keep our horses out of danger, as several balls fell in our camp. We remained in line until it was evident there would be no more firing from that quarter, and then were permitted to return to our respective quarters, but not to unsaddle our horses.

I was told by one of the officers to have ready everything I could carry of most value, that we would cross the river that night. After 12 o’clock we were ordered to the river, and after some time waiting on the bank were ordered to dismount, leave our horses and make our way across in the steamboat or flats; but our company concluded by whipping their horses into the river; they wanted to swim across, but in this we failed.

I told our captain that as our horses would not swim because of the river being up, and the night dark, I would swim mine and break the way for the rest, and probably they would follow. I therefore stripped myself and horse, gave my clothes to the rest of the boys to guard and carry across on the boat; jumped on my horse and rode him in, but in trying to turn his head up the river to keep him from the bushes, which were very thick, he got himself tangled in the bushes, threw me off and both swam to bank. I then put on my clothes, hitched my horse, took my blankets, etc., got on the steamer and crossed the river. (Note: The temperature can be imagined from the fact that this exploit occurred on Jany. 19).

My next thought was how to get my horse. Three of us went up the river about a mile, found a boat that would hold three horses. We therefore took possession of it, made three or four trips and brought our own and several other horses. By this time it was daylight. We thought it best to go and find the rest of our company, went to the steamboat landing but could not find but few of them together. I then found Inslee’s horse hitched and concluded he was close about, and to wait until he should come for him. After waiting a long time, someone told me he had gone up the hill. I led his horse up with what things I could find that belonged to him, found that he was not there, came back and met him coming up. [Note: The brothers were then on the opposite side of the river from the enemy.] I then went down to the river to see what was going on; about this time the enemy commenced firing on our boat, which was then run to the bank and set on fire. Our commissary stores were also burnt. I then went on the hill from...

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From a typescript entitled "The Diary or Register of David Anderson Deaderick, Esq.," David Anderson Deaderick Papers, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress.