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CASE OF THE WORTHLESS DEEDS?
(Widow and Child Attempt to Unravel Mystery)

By: Mary M. Baldasano

The dawn brought forth another cool spring day; a welcome pause before the long hot summer yet to come. For Charles McNair, it brought the hand of fate. His arrival in Virginia City was filled with hope of adding to his ownership of claims to placer mines in both California and Nevada. While his method of doing so through a variety of games of chance could be considered unethical, it was, nonetheless, profitable. 

Sitting in the Silver Spur, he shuffled cards while waiting for the miners to head to the saloon after their shifts, or for those who worked alone to come in for a good meal and a soft bed. Finding the work of mining too hard to his taste, he learned the craft of cards at the tables during the gold rush of 1849. Now 20 years and a Civil War later, a man survived if he exercised caution in the face of trouble.

So, when a known confederate sympathizer entered the saloon and began his usual dribble on the dishonesty used to end that epic struggle, Charles ignored him until the taunts became personal, cruel, and crude. Angered beyond reason, he soon ignored the shotgun the man carried--a mortal error. As the debate became heated, the bartender threw them into the street. Blows were struck, and the man ran. Rather than let the issue drop, Charles followed, intent on ending the man's intolerable insults. Down C street, up to B street, through alleys and walk ways, Charles followed until crossing the garden of a local boarding house. Rounding the corner, all he remembered was hearing the blast of the shotgun and the feeling that he'd run into a wall. Awakening sometime later, he assured the friends surrounding him of a full recovery-but they knew better. Refusing to accept that death was at hand, he would not send word to his family because he "didn't want his mother to worry." Two days later, Charles McNair died and his assets disappeared.

Months later in upstate New York, the McNair family received a letter from a Virginia City "lawyer" advising them of their son's death, its circumstances, and of his proper burial. While stating that Charles owned a small quantity of mining stocks and deeds, he advised they were not of sufficient value to warrant attention. He went on to say that Charles had died owing $80 which was paid with these same valueless stocks. Had the attorney refrained from further oratory (that would have been a first), the family might have accepted the story. Instead, he went on to say that Charles referred to a "drunken" father (he never touched a drop), and ill feelings between other family members (actually close knit and loving, especially with his mother). The McNairs, now suspicious, requested their youngest daughter, Mary, to find the truth.

Mary McNair Matthews was a survivor. A Civil War widow, she was forced to find an inner strength to ensure her son's future. With only a three-year college education, but with determination and spirit, Mary had opened a hoop skirt factory. Soon however, family duty intervened, and when told of her brother's death and its questionable circumstances, she did not hesitate to sell her factory and plan her pursuit of the truth. She traveled to Nevada in the company of James McKown, an old family friend.
Rail travel in post Civil War America was inconsistent and subject to the morality of engineers and conductors regarding length of stops and fares. Her first test of faith occurred when a mid-west conductor demanded full fare ($20) for her son Charlie. Having bought meals, she had only $17 remaining. The other passengers, angry at the demand, collected enough to pay the fare. Faith in humanity restored, even arriving late at night with a young child and no money, which would have overwhelmed most women, failed to stop Mary McNair. Within 24 hours, she had found a place to live (on credit) and a job. In this inauspicious way, her ten-year education and adventure into a strange and unfamiliar culture and economy had begun.

Believing the best of people, Mary accepted a person's word as a guarantee. Yet, family suspicion regarding the attorney who sent the letter led her to disguise herself as a poor woman looking for help, in order to visit the man's home. Her suspicions confirmed, she traveled to Carson City, the county seat, where she discovered the full extent of her brother's holdings, as well as someone's tampering.

A true entrepreneur, Mary knew that money was needed to travel to the areas where her brother had documented holdings. With teachers extremely hard to find in the region, Mary taught and took in laundry to earn money. Putting some aside, she bought mining stocks, and eventually a lodging house. In a boomtown, the cost of room and board could reach $15 a day, and while many could only pay for board (meals), others spent all their profits on a bath and soft bed after months of digging. She also  		became aware of the men's lust for drink and flesh, and this led her to participate actively in the Daughters of Temperance Society. 

Almost all her profits went toward legal fees (up to $1,000 a month in some cases), to further validate her brother's estate. Over the next three years, Mary traveled to Ladd's Valley, Rock Hill, and Dutch Flat, California, and to other areas. Time and again, she found that Charles' claims had been tampered with, just prior to her arrival, by a Mr. & Mrs. Brown (the attorney?). Unable to confirm her suspicions or regain her brother's property, she returned to Virginia City.

Mary made friends quickly and relied on one during her absences to care for Charlie. On her return, she found him severely abused and ill with scarlet fever. Furious, yet clever, she volunteered to serve the meal that evening in the lady's lodging house, and told the lodgers of her son's treatment; most left the next day.

Virginia City's population was as varied as the weather. Americans, Scotsmen, Irish, English, German, Spanish, Chinese, Italians, and others were present. The various groups formed many "secret" societies, such as the Order of Red Men, Knights of Pythias, Anti-Chinese, Masonic Temple, and Odd Fellows. They also formed labor unions, such as the Miners' Union. These societies benefited their members by paying lodging costs for those who became sick or injured, and funeral expenses for those less fortunate. At the same time, their prejudices led them to perform violent acts. 

The mines were treacherous, owing to extreme heat from underground hot springs, deadly gases, and floodwaters. Constant danger also threatened from deadly falls of 300 feet or more, and from mine cave-ins. The hardest part was watching the wives and families stand by the mine entrances after a cave-in or other accident, waiting to hear who had survived; knowing that casualties were unavoidable.

Yet, above ground, the societies' treachery seemed less obvious when cloaked behind their civilized doors.

Mary and Charlie witnessed many violent acts. Mary, herself a holder of many prejudices, in some instances encouraged the violence. She also discovered that the man alleged to have shot her brother had never been arrested or even charged with his shooting, but was instead given money to leave town. When advised of his planned return, she let it be known that an act of vengeance was not her way, but that it was possible that others might seek vengeance on her behalf; he never returned.

By 1878, both Mary's and Charlie's health began to fail and they each had a brush with death. Deciding that they needed a break, they traveled to San Francisco to recover and enjoy its culture. Upon their return, she found Mrs. Beck and the Temperance Society had opened a soup kitchen for the needy. This required that someone collect left over foods from local saloons and boarding houses. Mary spent a great deal of time collecting contributions until the mines began to close, and with them the businesses that had donated. 

Late that year, she and Charlie returned to New York to care for her parents. For the next several years, she traveled to Virginia City recovering belongings and salvaging investments. On her parents' death, and failure of the mines, she and Charlie moved to Ukiah, California. Mary McNair Matthews was 69 when she died in 1903, a ripe old age for those times.

Her book exposes her many biases and her eventual bitterness, but also gives a working man's view of the mines and of camp life. While the true cause of Charles McNair's death will forever be in doubt, the scenario that Mary presents is plausible. Did Charles gamble? Who can say? Some witness' statements suggest that he was always well dressed; others reveal a man down on his luck. In a lawless town, gambling is a frequent cause of an inconsistent lifestyle and early death. 

What of Charles' holdings? Were the deeds truly worthless? Did more exist? Though the holdings were extensive, neither their location nor subsequent ownership could be used to prove that the originals were taken at the time of Charles' death. Nor could Mary ever discover who had taken them.

To forfeit years of health and financial security to investigate the uncertainty of a brother's death at a parent's request is a burden not many would accept. Mary's ten-year-long story makes fascinating reading, best told in full in her own words through her book, "Ten Years In Nevada" or "Life on the Pacific Coast," published by the University of Nebraska Press. Check it out.