The Naces of Lithia: Matthew Harvey Nace: The End

I've uncovered a lot of info about about my 3rd great uncle Matthew Harvey Nace (aka James Hempstead Neyce), the family scoundrel, in previous posts:

To summarize the above posts: Matthew and his wife Evaline already had three children when she died of complications in 1854 while giving birth to a fourth, and Matthew had an enormous tombstone erected for her in Richmond's Hollywood Cemetery. By 1855, he was living in New York where he was soon found to be embezzling from his company, Nace and Coe. When Israel Coe issued a warrant for his arrest, Matthew then absconded and headed west. In Indiana, he married Ella B. Christian (his first wife's younger sister—Elizabeth "Ella" Byrd Christian), scammed some folks in Missouri, headed farther west, assumed the name James Hempstead Neyce, lived in Oregon for a while, had three children, moved to California, and spent some time in prison.

The Sacramento Bee, p. 5, Sept. 15, 1890

While in prison, Neyce apparently gained favor from his compiling skills. From the San Francisco Chronicle, p. 4, July 13, 1892:

Eventually he was pardoned. The first article below is from The Oakland Tribune, p. 4 May 16, 1894, and the second is from the San Francisco Chronicle, 1894:

After his pardon, James H. Neyce continued to live in California (Santa Clara and then Sonoma), became a respected member of his community, worked as a searcher of records, but eventually was buried in a pauper's grave. Apparently, a few years before his death, he had been in ill health for a while but seemed to be improving:

Petaluma Morning Courier, p. 3. Aug 13, 1907

When he died on March 10, 1910, reports of his life were greatly exaggerated. In fact, his obituaries were filled with lies. He was never in the United States Army, was not a friend of army generals, was not a Mexican War veteran, was never in Brazil, was never a secretary of anything in Brazil, and—actually born in 1824—was in his 80s, not his 90s:

—The Oakland Tribune

The next one even gets his place of birth wrong. In 1844, when he was only 20—when President Tyler allegedly appointed him assistant quartermaster in the U.S. Army—he was still in Virginia, where he married Evaline in 1847. Their children were all born in Virginia, and in 1850, Matthew and his family were living in Richmond. His wife died in Virginia in 1854. By 1855, he was living in New York, but in 1856, he married Ella in Indiana. He was never in the Mexican War, and he was out west during the Civil War. He never had "a splendid record" in the military.

—The Petaluma Courier

—The San Francisco Chronicle

—The Santa Rosa Republican

If reports of his death were greatly exaggerated, a story written about him is even more outlandish. Published in the Santa Cruz Surf and California Farmer (September 1, 1885), "The Ghastly Ride of J.H. Neyce"—about his alleged adventures in Central America—is complete fiction. Neyce was never in the army so he never held the rank of colonel, and never in Central America or South America. Here is the opening of the story as it looked when first published.

A transcription of the entire newspaper story:

"A Ghastly Ride"

Several years before the war Col. J. H. Neyce, at present a land broker in Santa Rosa, Sonoma county, but a that time residing temporarily in the British settlement of Balize, Central America, absent on furlough from the United States Army, in which he held a commission, received orders from the department at Washington to investigate a lately reported discovery of a valuable gold deposit in the mountains some distance from Balize. As he was familiar with the work to be done, having previously been employed in South America, he lost no time in making preparations for departure to the district indicated, but when every thing else was in readiness he was confronted by an unexpected obstacle in the difficulty of procuring trustworthy muleteers, of which it was necessary he should have several. After much discouragement, he finally engaged the services of four natives upon the recommendation of the British resident, who stated that he had employed them and found them faithful, but nevertheless was not assured they would be so under all circumstances. However, as no others could be obtained, and as there was no actual misconduct charged against them, Col. Neyce concluded to look no further, and in due course of time set off alone with the four natives and several pack animals loaded with his baggage and such instruments and materials as might be necessary in his mining investigations and examinations.

Unfortunately, as it proved, the natives did not know the contents of the package, but having heard before starting that their employer was going to the mountains for the purpose of the lately discovered mines, were led to believe that the baggage contained the purchase money, and being naturally none to honest, the thought of this immense sum, practically in their own possession, excited their own cupidity to the highest degree. However, the first day's trip and night following passed without any indication of evil. as did also the day following. at the close of which some sixty miles of their journey had been accomplished. Their camp that night was made upon a small plateau among the mountains, studded with a few trees, between Co. Neyce, after having partaken of supper, swung his hammock and reposed himself to rest. The natives were to pass the night about the campfire, from which their employer had chosen to remove himself some distance that he might secure more uninterrupted slumber. He fell asleep almost immediately, but after some little time awoke to find the mon shining directly in his face with such tropical brightness that, after trying vainly to go to sleep again, he was forced to change his position in the hammock, lying with his head where his feet had before been. Relieved from the glare of the light, he once more sank to slumber, which continued for he knew not how long, but the awakening from which he will never, should he live far beyond the alloted time of man, be likely to forget.

A heavy crushing blow fell upon his left leg, between the knee and ankle, and he awoke—awoke to realize instantly, in spite of the awful shock of such an awakening and the numbing pain of his shattered limb, that he was face to face with death in its most horrible form. Alone and unfriended, amid mountains and wilderness, already disabled and surrounded by four murderous wretches, armed and remorseless, he did not falter for an instant in making one desperate effort for his life. He had acquired in South American the—to residents of civilized communities—singular habit of sleeping with both hands under his head, and in each a loaded revolver. With the same movement, therefore, with which he flung the hammock netting from his face as he rose to a sitting position he leveled a pistol at the mistaken murderer, who was just lifting his machine at what he thought was his victim's head, and the wretch fell in his track. Another was close at hand and sprang forward with his weapon raised, but only to sink to the earth, bleeding and cursing.

Regardless of his wounded limb, Co Neyce now sprang from his hammock, and supporting himself by its cords, raised his pistol to fire at a third miscreant, who was rushing toward him. The weapon exploded, and with the same deadly effect, but at that instant the fourth villain, who stood concealed behind a tree, fired upon the desperate man with an old-time bell-mouthed musket, which he carried. The enormous ball ploughed a furrow across the conel's temple, searing his left eye and destroying the sight forever. Stunned by the terrible shock, he fell to the ground, feeling that it was all over, but a moment later, as the native approached him, he summoned his energies and fired one more shot. The wretch fell with a groan, and the man who had made this desperate fight for life stood among his bleeding, helpless foes a victor.

Victor, and yet unvanquished. Alone and friendless, with the blood streaming from his terrible wounds, it would have been slight wonder had he thrown himself down to die among the wretches who had so foully betrayed him, contented that at least he should not perish unavenged. But he was made of sterner stuff, and he determined not to yield all hope of life, since not yet was the full measure of his vengeance accomplished. With his weapon ready for instant use, and despite the awful agony which the movement caused to his shattered limb, he hobbled from one to another of the fallen men, examining as he might their wounds. Not one had been killed outright, though three were badly wounded and helpless. The fourth was less severely injured, and him his conquerer compelled, with a pistol ever aimed at his head, to arise and do as he was ordered.

One by one his three comrades were bound by the bandit and placedupon the mules which were tethered near, each man being firmly strapped fast to the animal he rode. Then he was also compelled to mount, and Col. Neyce, with a few dexterous twists of a rope, fastened his feet securely beneath his mule's body. With an effort which, in his wounded condition, must have seemed a foretaste of death itself, the American then sprang upon his own animal, and with another menace with is weapon, pointed back the way they had come and uttered the one word, "Vamos!" By this time it was dawn, and the strange and dreadful cavalcade started on its way, the three bound muleteers riding ahead in single file, while behind them came the fourth, with his hands free, that he might the better guide his mule and keep the others on the path. Last of all but keeping ever within a few paces of the strongest of his captives, while his hand held the cocked and ready weapon, rode the American.

It was a march of agony to all. Again and again did the wounded and moaning wretches turn to their captor and beg for a moment's halt, but in vain. With his head burning and throbbing from the pain of his seared and blasted eye, with every motion of his animal causing his gashed and broken limb exquisite pain, feeling that he was slowly dying as he rode, his heart had little room for mercy for those whose treachery had brought him to this pass. He had ever the same answer, "Vamos!" and at last the miserable wretches ceased to importune him, seeing it was in vain.

Hour after hour went by, the sun rose high in the heavens and beat down with merciless severity upon the already burning wounds of these ghastly travelers: still no halt was made. Their limbs and bodies stiffened, until all sat upon their animals utterly helpless—all but the one scarred and stern-visaged man riding in the rear, whose voice had long since died in his parched and swollen throat, no sign of life remaining save in the deadly menace of his sole remaining eye, and an occasional threatening movement of the hand which still held the weapon, which even now was all that made him master of those who had sought his life. The day passed on. The weary animals, weak from thirst and hunger, grew faint and feeble, but still staggered on, lost now to everything of human sensibility, save the ever-present consciousness of intense and unremitting suffering.

But the end of the journey finally grew near. The town was reached at last, and through its silent and deserted streets, the mournful cavalcade moved, unnoticed until the silent riders halted before the British residency. Lights streamed from the doors and windows, and sounds of mirth and festivity were borne out upon the night air. But they suddenly ceased, for the strange arrival was soon known, and the resident and his guests, most of whom were officers from a couple of British men-of-war lately arrived on the coast, issued in a body from the house and surrounded the silent American, whom some one, despite the awful change in his appearance, had recognized.

Then the iron will, which for hours past was all that had supplied the place of life, at last gave way, and, without uttering a sound, with one feeble wave of the hand toward his captives, he fel into the arms of his friend, the resident, like one utterly lifeless. And when they lifted the others from their animals there was one who slid through their hands to the earth like a dead fragment of wood, for he had died on the road, and had ridden to his journey's end a stiffened corpse. Perhaps his fat was better than his comrades', for when, the next morning, one of them, thinking to save himself from punishment, confessed the whole conspiracy, the three were taken to the public plaza, and thre ruthlessly shot to death.

But of the final act of the tragedy, he who they had intended to be their victim knew nothing for many a long day, for it was six weeks until he awakened to consciousness from the burning and wasting fever which had settled upon him. Even then his recovery, though finally complete, was of the slowest, for night after night for long weeks passed without bringing the refreshing slumber his shattered nervous system needed, for to close his eyes in sleep was only to live over the awful passages of that time, and in his dreams to ride again that long journey of torment and death. ~

Here's why this "ghastly" story couldn't have happened: "A few years before the war" doesn't fit Matthew Nace's timeline. A few years before the war, in the early 1850s, he and his wife Evaline and their children were living in Richmond, where he erected a lavish monument for her after her 1854 death. In 1855, he was in New York but soon headed west to avoid charges of embezzlement. In 1856, he married Ella B. Christian in Indiana. In 1859, he and Ella and his three children were living in Missouri where he'd been scamming people for a while. By 1860, he and Ella are living in Oregon without his children and where—in September 1860—he and five others would climb Mt. St. Helens in nearby Washington. There was no time he could have fit in a career in the army and no time that he could have gone to Central America. The whole story—like much of Matthew's life—is a complete lie.

Rest in peace, Matthew Harvey Nace/James Hempstead Neyce (1824-1910).

Thanks to Jeff Page for providing the clippings.

The Naces of Lithia

Sunday, February 15, 2026

Matthew Harvey Nace: The End

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