
“The community was shocked last Wednesday when a telegram from Newport, Rhode Island, was received by Postmaster Damarin staring that Lieutenant James M. Jones was perhaps fatally shot, and requesting the Postmaster to break the news to the family. David L. Jones, brother of the lieutenant, telegraphed immediately for particulars but received no reply, hence the greatest of anxiety prevailed, not only on the part of the bereaved family, but among the hosts of friends of the unfortunate young officer in the city. Thursday David received a dispatch that the lieutenant was sinking rapidly, but still no word as to the cause or nature of the shooting. The arrival of Thursday’s Cincinnati papers, however, showed that the lieutenant had doubtless done the shooting himself, with suicidal intent. The following extract from the press dispatch to the Enquirer tells the sad story:”

“Lieutenant James M. Jones, Battery B, Fourth United States Artillery, took the Fall River Line steamer Pilgrim at five o’clock last night from the foot of Murray street, New York for Newport. When he went on board the steamer and asked for a state room at the office the clerk noticed that his voice was unsteady, his voice trembled and he looked flushed and excited. The clerk gave him a good room in the center of the main cabin and where he would be under the eye of the negro porters.”
“The Pilgrim lands at Newport about 2:30 in the morning. Lieutenant Jones hurried at once to a small hotel near the dock, where he took a room. He evidently did not sleep much, for the night clerk says there was an almost continuous pacing up and down in the room, which was a front one, and directly over the office, for about four hours, and then the Lieutenant came down stairs, paid his $1, and started to walk to Fort Adams. The sentry was struck with the nervous appearance of the Lieutenant as he passed inside the fort. When he reached his quarters he divested himself of his clothing, and threw himself upon his couch. When his negro servant went to call him he was sleeping soundly, and it was with some difficulty that he was aroused in time to eat his breakfast at eight o’clock. Again at breakfast Jones drank heavily of coffee, eating only a small piece of steak and shoving aside the other dishes untouched. As he removed the dishes the servant remarked his master’s nervousness and said: ‘Is dere anything I kin do for you sah?’ The Lieutenant replies with a curt ‘No.’ A few moments afterwards a painted stepped into the Lieutenant’s quarters to give it a new coat, but was waved aside by the Lieutenant, who said, ‘Never mind that this morning; wait till I have seen the Quartermaster after guard mount.’ Jones reported to the commanding officer1 just after that and returned to his quarters. Just as the call for guard was sounded, the Quartermaster walked into Lieutenant Jones’ quarters and found Jones lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The ball had entered the skill just behind the right ear and lodged at the base of the brain. The best of medical attendance has been given to Jones, but he was still unconscious at midnight. The officers at the Fort decline to make any statement at present, but it is supposed that Jones shot himself rather than be disgraced by a court martial. He had overstayed his leave of absence eight days.”

“Lieutenant Jones was known to nearly everyone in Portsmouth, being the son of David D. Jones, one of our oldest and most respected citizens, and brother of David L., John D., and the late Colonel Henry E. Jones. He was born in Portsmouth, was a studious and popular boy and young man, quiet moral and affectionate, always kind to his parents, and never engaging in any juvenile escapades. In school he always stood at the head of his class. In 1871 he entered West Point as a cadet from this district, through the influence of Honorable John T. Wilson, Congressman at that time. He went through the four years course and graduated with honors, and was assigned to duty in the Fourth Artillery. He was stationed at Fortress Monroe for quite a while and was then sent West and participated in the Indian war, performing service for which he was favorably mentioned. He was afterwards stationed at the West Point Military Academy as Professor of Mathematics.”

“He was a young man of a high sense of honor, and the severe school of the regular army had doubtless emphasized that sense to such a degree that he became morbid, and magnified a slight breach of discipline into a matter of grave import, with the deplorable result referred to. A dispatch was received by the family yesterday to the effect that he was still sinking. He was a young officer in whom his parents took commendable pride, and the blow is to them extremely great.”2
Death of Lieutenant James M. Jones

“Lieutenant James M. Jones, who shot himself at Fort Adams, Newport, Rhode Island, died Saturday night, and was brought home Wednesday evening and buried in Greenlawn Thursday. His brother David started for Newport Saturday morning, but did not arrive there in time to see him alive. He settled up the business of his unfortunate brother and brought the remains home. A dispatch in the New York Herald says: ‘He had never been conscious since firing the fatal ball. The flag at the fort was half-masted, and out of respect to the dead, the flags on the United States steamer Despatch and flagship New Hampshire were also placed at half-mast. It is not often that the navy lowers its flag for an army officer. As before stated in the Herald, the deceased was a popular young officer, and his death is regretted on all sides.”3
- Clermont Livingston Best Sr.
- Sad occurrence. (1886, January 2). Portsmouth Times, p. 2.
- Death of Lieut. James M. Jones. (1886, January 9). Portsmouth Times, p. 3.