Disunion follows the Civil War as it unfolded.

Today Disunion begins an occasional series about the lives of individual soldiers during the Civil War — North and South, black and white. Compiled and written by Ronald S. Coddington, author of “Faces of the Civil War” and “Faces of the Confederacy,” the series will give readers a sense of the war beyond the headlines and history books, a sense of what it meant to the millions of ordinary men who entered into, and often never left, that great American conflict.

Collection of the Author

It wasn’t the sort of situation that Chauncey Barnes Reese, an affable, easygoing lieutenant, had expected when he shipped off on his first Army deployment, to the sleepy, half-complete Fort Gaines on the outer reaches of Mobile Bay. After nearly a year of laboring in anonymity to complete the fort, on the morning of Jan. 5 Reese and his handful of men found themselves at the center of the latest episode in the secession crisis, having been overtaken by armed secessionist insurgents from Mobile.

Like Fort Sumter, the five-sided Fort Gaines was part of the chain of forts (Fort Morgan, already operational, sat on the opposite site of the bay) built after the War of 1812 to guard American harbors against enemy attack. And, like Fort Sumter, its construction had proceeded in fits and starts over four decades — despite Mobile’s status as, according to The New York Herald, “next to New Orleans, the great cotton mart of the South.” Whoever controlled the forts would control the bay, and hence control the flow of cotton out of Alabama.

The insurgents were there on orders from Alabama Gov. Andrew Moore, a man who was elected for his moderate, pro-Union stance. He clearly had a change of heart. Once they had subdued Reese and the men, Moore fired off a letter to outgoing President James Buchanan to explain his action: “I deemed it my duty to take every precautionary step to make the secession of the State peaceful, and prevent detriment to her people” — thus declaring Alabama’s departure from the Union before the legislature had even had a chance to vote on the matter (though action followed soon enough; Alabama seceded on Jan. 11).

Reese had been at the fort since early 1860, soon after graduating near the top of his class at West Point and receiving a commission in the prestigious Corps of Engineers. A popular student, he won over his comrades with stories and jokes about the boatmen he grew up with along the Erie Canal in Canastota, N. Y. A classmate recalled how Reese inspired many with “his happy disposition and gentle exercise of authority.”

While Reese labored at the fort, the events that resulted in his precarious position unfolded around him. Even before Lincoln’s election, Deep South states had been quietly preparing for possible secession, including making plans to preemptively occupy federal forts and arsenals before officially leaving the Union. Takeovers were meant to be bloodless; as John Nicolay, President Lincoln’s able secretary, explained, “The ordinary process was, the sudden appearance of a superior armed force, a demand for surrender in the name of the State, and the compliance under protest by the officer in charge — salutes to the flag, peaceable evacuation, and unmolested transit home being graciously permitted as a military courtesy.”

This describes Reese’s experience. Well, almost. His “unmolested transit home” was a bit different.

On Jan. 18, after two weeks of preparing to leave, Reese and his men finally got ready to board a steamer he had chartered for the short trip to Mobile. Stacked on the island wharf were personal baggage and what Reese vaguely described as “some provisions &c,” which he planned to sell in Mobile, according to his official report of the event.

Meanwhile, however, the commander of the secessionist militia received information “that Lieut. Reese, of the army of the late United States, had brought a vessel down to Fort Gaines for the purpose of removing all property formerly belonging to the said U.S. deceased,” ran a report in the New Orleans Daily True Delta newspaper. State troops were immediately dispatched on the schooner Alert to stop Reese.

The schooner made it as far as the midpoint of the mouth of the bay when the wind calmed and brought the vessel to a standstill. About this time the militiamen spotted Reese’s steamer headed towards Fort Gaines.

The Alabamians acted quickly. They lowered a rowboat from the Alert; about a half dozen officers jumped in, grabbed the oars and went to work. “After an exciting pull of two miles,” noted the Daily True Delta, “these gentlemen sprang upon the wharf at Fort Gaines just in time to prevent the ex-lieutenant of the defunct states from defrauding Alabama of several thousand dollars worth of property.” Reese complied and departed for Mobile to await orders.

Related Civil War Timeline An unfolding history of the Civil War with photos and articles from the Times archive and ongoing commentary from Disunion contributors. Visit the Timeline »

Reese finally shipped out for Florida and the North, but he returned to the South a few months later. On April 12, as Charleston Harbor was lighted up during the bombardment of Fort Sumter, he was en route to Pensacola, part of a 500-man expedition headed to relieve Fort Pickens, which guarded the entrance to Pensacola Harbor and sat just 40 miles east of his previous post. The tiny garrison at Fort Pickens was one of the few forts to resist Confederate demands to surrender; with the timely arrival of Reese and the rest of the reinforcements, it managed to avoid the fate of Fort Gaines.

Despite what some might consider an inauspicious start at Fort Gaines, Reese went on to a stellar career as an engineer and a sort of Civil War Zelig. At Gettysburg he stood alongside Maj. Gen. Gouverneur Warren and scrambled to find troops to halt the Confederate advance on Little Round Top, the critical point in the battle and, some say, the war. In 1864, Reese made inroads into Atlanta alongside Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman as chief engineer of the federal Army of the Tennessee. Reese ended the war as a lieutenant colonel and received a brevet, or honorary rank, of brigadier general of volunteers. “He was one of the very best officers of the army,” declared Maj. Gen. Warren.

Though nearly all the Union soldiers remaining at the end of the war either left the Army or were drummed out, Reese stayed on. In 1869 he was transfered back to Mobile. In the fall of the following year, yellow fever swept the area; Reese fell ill and died, at the age of 33 — the only servicemember to die during the epidemic. His one-and-a-half-year-old daughter and wife, Mary, five months pregnant with a second girl, survived him.

His remains were brought home to Canastota and buried. In 1878, local veterans named a Grand Army of the Republic post in his honor. The following year a government contractor built a stern-wheel, steam-powered boat to clear channels in various waterways; officials named the new vessel the Chauncey B. Reese.

Join Disunion on Facebook »

Sources: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies; New York Herald, Jan. 14, 1861; Daily True Delta (New Orleans), Jan. 27, 1861; Thomas McAdory Owen, “History of Alabama and Dictionary of Alabama Biography,” Vol. IV; John G. Nicolay, “The Outbreak of Rebellion”; George W. Cullum, Biographical Register of the Officers and Graduates of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, Vol. II; Oliver W. Norton, “The Attack and Defense of Little Round Top”; Mary I. Reese pension record, National Archives and Records Service, Washington, D.C.; Henry Hall, “Report on the Ship-Building Industry of the United States.”

Ronald S. Coddington is the author of “Faces of the Civil War” and “Faces of the Confederacy.” His forthcoming book profiles the lives of men of color who participated in the Civil War. He writes “Faces of War,” a column in the Civil War News.