Biographical Sketch of James J. Ray, Lafayette County, Missouri >From "History of Lafayette County, Mo., carefully written and compiled from the most authentic official and private sources" St. Louis, Mo. Historical Company, 1881. ********************************************************************** James J. Ray, farmer, P. O. Higginsville, son of James H. and Hannah Ray, was born in Livingston county, Kentucky, May 6, 1835. His parents were natives of same state and county; his father being born in 1805 and his mother in 1811. In 1838 his father moved his family to Missouri, locat- ing in Macon county, within ten miles of where Macon City now stands. His father was a follower of Henry Clay, and always voted the Whig ticket. He died August 28, 1860 and was followed by his wife nine years later. James J. was married to Miss E. J. Williamson, October 22, 1854, who died after the war. He was again married April 22, 1871, to Miss Nannie B. Rutter, of Palmyra, Missouri. They have one child, Daisy, born February 9, 1874. Mr. Ray was one of the first to respond to the call of Gov. Jackson for troops to defend the state of Missouri from invasion without and foes within, enlisting in the state guards for a six months term of service. His experiences during the progress of the war were quite remarkable, and peculiarly interesting, as related by himself in the following: "After serving out my time of enlistment in the state guards, I returned home to learn of the death of my father, and of my appointment as administrator of his estate. My bondsmen wished me to remain at home and attend to the property, fearing that if I entered the confederate service, the property would be confiscated, and they would consequently suffer. I complied with their request, and engaged in stock trading. While in St. Louis with two car loads of stock, I was obliged to take the oath of loyalty to the federal government, before I was allowed to return home. I told no one, except my family, what I had been obliged to do. In August, 1862, Col. Benjamin, in command of a company of fedeal militia, stationed in my neighborhood, ordered that all southern sympathizers should take the oath of allegiance, and pay a commutation tax of $30, or go into the militia. The most of my neighbors paid the tax, but I did not. I concluded to join the confederates, and went to Gen. Green's at Shelbina, which place we captured after a sharp skirmish. I afterwards joined Porter and participated in the battles of Newark and Kirksville. At the latter place the federals made a charge which we repulsed, with severe loss to them. The ball was then opened in earnest. Several of my company were killed. A comrade by the name of Rains, who was badly wounded, called out to me not to leave him, and I called to another comrade, a Mr. Zool, and together we started to carry him into a house, a cannon ball took off the head of Mr. Zool. I put the wounded man in the house, and started to find my company, but was captur- ed in the attempt. Thirty-two of us, prisoners, were drawn up in line, that evening, and told that we were to be shot, but after keeping us there until sundown without a drop of water, or anything to eat, they confined us in an upper room until morning. We got nothing to eat or drink until eleven o'clock that day. The next morning one Mr. Chaney, a merchant, came to me and told me that he thought we would all be shot. I gave him $25 and my wife's address, and he said that if I was killed, he would send her the money. Soon after we were asked by McNeal if we would take the oath of allegiance to the federal government. We all readily consented and were accordingly sworn, provided with a pass and turned out of the den. I met Mr. Chaney, who returned my pocket book and money, and said, with tears in his eyes, that he was glad to return me my own. I arranged my toilet as best I could under the circumstances and went to a hotel, where I remained three days, assisting in the care of some wounded soldies, I was so ragged that I was ashamed to go home, but a merchant of the place, presented me with a complete suit of clothes; then I concluded to go home. I do not know the donor's name, but whoever and wherever he is, I pray that he may prosper. I traveled to Macon by stage and started to walk to my mother's place, ten miles out. On the road I overtook an old playmate, John Hunt, a radical, to whom I told my troubles, not thinking to whom I was talking. In less than 24 hours my mother's house was ransacked for me, from cellar to garret, but I was at my own house eight miles distant. A neighbor piloted the milita there at midnight. I awoke to look into the muzzle of a musket, in the hands of an old school mate, who ordered me to get up. When the captain came in, he ordered a light and capped his revolver afresh. This alarmed my wife, and she asked him what he was going to do with me. He answered her: "It is enough for you to know that we are going to take him out of here d****d quick." I then showed him my pass, and after reading it he said: "I am an officer and will respect this, but you will be killed in less than two weeks if you stay here." He then left, with his command. The next Sunday I was called to the door by three men, who presented their pistols at me and bade me follow. They made me mount an old mare, that had a colt following her, and ride at least 15 miles with a sheep pelt for a seat. We stopped at Uncle Henry Roberts', on the way, and confiscated his saddle for my use. In a few hours the rest of the company came along, and arrested Uncle Henry, and made him ride to headquarters bare back. He was not in a praying mood, just then, if he was an elder in the church. I was taken to the old Harris house, where I was kept for several weeks, with about a hundred others. The officers would not respect my pass, and shortly after about seventy of us were transferred to the McDowell College military prison at St. Louis, where we were detained for three months. While sitting at the window one day, I threw a kiss at three ladies on the street, who respon- ded by waving their handkerchiefs. They were arrested and put into prison for it. Soon after we were transferred to Alton, and while there the small pox broke out among us. It being very difficult to get nurses for the sick, I volunteered my services. I caught the disease, but having a very light attack, soon recovered. After being imprisoned there and elsewhere for nine months, I was released under $3,000 bonds, went home, made a sale, and went to Virginia City, Montana, where I remained until the last of September, when I returned home. Finding affairs unsettled as yet, and thinking myself not safe, I concluded to go north. I landed in Omaha and the first letter I received from my wife, I learned that I had not been gone from the house a half hour, before the militia were after me. After an absence of six months, I returned and found everything quiet; those who had been the most eager to hunt me down, heretofore, have since seemed my very best friends. Such, are some of my experiences in what I term a rich man's war and a poor man's fight." ==================================================================== USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with our policy of providing free information on the Internet, data may be used by non-commercial entities, as long as this message remains on all copied material. These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or for presentation by other persons or organizations. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material for purposes other than stated above must obtain the written consent of the file contributor. 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