The White Massacre, a somber episode in the history of westward expansion, unfolded in October 1849 in northeastern New Mexico. This tragic event saw a Jicarilla Apache attack on a wagon train near the Point of Rocks on the Cimarron Branch of the Santa Fe Trail, leading to profound consequences for the region and highlighting the escalating tensions between settlers and Native American tribes.
The White Brothers’ Ambitions and Early Ventures
Brothers James and Charles White, originally from Warsaw, Missouri, embarked on a quest for fortune in New Mexico, establishing a mercantile business in Santa Fe in July 1848. They quickly gained a reputation as “Cheap Merchants — cheaper than the cheapest,” a slogan proudly displayed in the Santa Fe Republican. Following a prosperous summer of trade, Charles ventured south to explore new business opportunities between Santa Fe and Chihuahua, Mexico, while James returned to Missouri to deposit a substantial sum of $58,000 in gold and silver coins.
In February 1849, Charles White, accompanied by Francois Aubry, a notable French Canadian merchant and explorer, journeyed to Chihuahua via El Paso, Texas. During this period, Aubry and Charles White founded another mercantile establishment in El Paso. After wholesaling their goods, Aubry headed back to Independence, Missouri, arriving on August 23. His caravan had endured attacks from both Apache and Pawnee tribes during the return trip, yet miraculously suffered no losses. Undeterred, Aubry immediately purchased new goods for another expedition to Santa Fe. Meanwhile, James White also finalized plans to return to Santa Fe, intending to make it his permanent home with his wife, Ann Dunn, and their young daughter, Virginia.
Escalating Tensions on the Santa Fe Trail
The summer of 1849 proved to be exceptionally perilous for traffic along the Santa Fe Trail. Numerous wagon trains reported attacks, with valuable livestock frequently stolen. This mounting unrest prompted Santa Fe Indian Agent James Calhoun to formally request additional troops on August 15, expressing grave concern that “the Indians, generally, are in a bad temper — the number of troops is not sufficient here to keep up on them a proper check.”
Despite these dire warnings of increased Indian hostility, Francois Aubry, leading the caravan, and James White remained resolute in their decision to undertake the journey. Aubry’s caravan consisted of ten wagons owned by Ceran St. Vrain and thirteen wagons belonging to James White. James White’s party included his wife Ann, daughter Virginia, a mulatto employee named Ben Bushman, and a black female servant who served as Virginia’s nursemaid. The wagon train departed Westport, Missouri, on September 15. Surprisingly, the initial stages of the journey passed without incident, lulling the travelers into a false sense of security.
The Ill-Fated Detachment and the Attack
At a certain point along the trail, Aubry opted to send his wagon master, William Calloway, ahead to Santa Fe to procure fresh mules. James White, considering himself an experienced trail veteran, decided to accompany Calloway, hoping to expedite his family’s arrival in Santa Fe. Aubry strongly advised against this split, but James was determined. He loaded his wife, daughter, employee Ben Bushman, and the nursemaid into two carriages. They were joined by a German traveler named Lawberger and two of Aubry’s Mexican employees, forming a smaller, more vulnerable party.
Having seemingly navigated the most dangerous sections of the Cimarron Cutoff of the Santa Fe Trail, the small detachment paused a few miles east of the prominent Point of Rocks landmark in New Mexico. On October 24, they were approached by a band of Jicarilla Apache and Ute Indians who demanded gifts. The Indians’ request was refused, and they were sent away. Despite being rebuffed multiple times, the warriors returned and launched a sudden, brutal attack on the detachment. All the men were killed. Ann White, her child, and her servant were spared, but only to be taken captive.
Discovery and Initial Rescue Efforts
A short time later, a group of buffalo hunters stumbled upon the horrific scene. They too were attacked by the Apache and quickly retreated, leaving behind two of their members who had been shot. However, one of the wounded, the young son of a buffalo hunter, was not dead. Feigning death during the assault, he eventually made his way to Point of Rocks, where he recounted the gruesome details of the attack.
Upon receiving news of the attack on October 29, Indian Agent James Calhoun immediately took action. He hired Encarnacion Garcia, an Indian trader, to negotiate a ransom of $1,000 for the return of the captives. The very next day, Aubry arrived in Santa Fe and, learning of the tragedy, offered an additional $1,000 for their release. He promptly enlisted the help of Pueblo Indians and New Mexican friends to mount a private rescue mission.
The Pursuit and Kit Carson’s Regret
Official troops were also dispatched from Taos. Captain William Grier organized 42 men from his company of the First Dragoons, supplemented by 40 mounted New Mexican Volunteers under Captain Jose Valdez. This formidable force was guided by a team of highly experienced frontiersmen: Antoine Leroux, Robert Fisher, Dick Wootton, Jesus Silva, and Tom Tobin. On their third night, Grier’s detachment reached Rayado, where they were joined by the legendary scout Kit Carson. The troops then pressed on to the attack site near Point of Rocks, finally arriving on November 9, more than two weeks after the initial assault.
The soldiers relentlessly pursued the Indian trail for approximately 200 miles, ultimately tracking them to an encampment situated on the Canadian River, a few miles south of Tucumcari Butte. In the early morning hours of November 17, the troops launched an attack on the camp, causing the Indians to flee. There, they made a tragic discovery: the lifeless body of Ann White, still warm. Captain Grier deduced that she had likely refused to accompany the Indians further and had been killed as the troops approached.
In his autobiography, Kit Carson later expressed profound regret about the turn of events:
“We tracked them for ten or twelve days over the most difficult trail that I have ever followed… We finally came in view of the Indian camp. I was in advance, starting for their camp, calling for the men to follow. The [commanding] officer called a halt; none of them would follow me. I was informed that Leroux, the principal guide, told the officer in command to halt that the Indians wanted to have a parley. The Jicarilla started packing their goods for flight, and a shot was fired that struck Captain Grier, causing no serious injury. The captain ordered a charge, but the delay allowed all but one of the Indians to escape. In about 200 yards, pursuing the Indians, the body of Mrs. White was found, perfectly warm, had not been killed more than five minutes – shot through the heart by an arrow… I am certain that if the Indians had been charged immediately on our arrival, she would have been saved…However, the treatment she had received…was so brutal and horrible that she could not possibly have lived very long.”
Carson believed the book found in the camp, likely Charles Averill’s Kit Carson: Prince of the Gold Hunters, published that same year, had given Ann White false hope. This work was among the first of many novels to wildly exaggerate Carson’s heroics. Disgusted, Carson urged his companions to cast the book into the fire over Ann White’s grave. The failure to save Ann White haunted him for the rest of his life, a testament to the harsh realities of frontier justice and conflict.
The Unfound Captives and the Spark of War
After the engagement, the troops continued their pursuit of the fleeing Indians for several miles, resulting in the death of one warrior and the capture of several horses, along with “all their baggage and camp equipage.” However, neither the daughter, Virginia White, nor her black nursemaid were found among the recovered items. On their arduous return journey, the troops were caught in a sudden blizzard, causing immense suffering. Grier’s black servant was tragically lost in the storm. On November 24, the exhausted men staggered into Captain Judd’s camp at Las Vegas, New Mexico, where Kit Carson departed for Rayado. The remaining troops pushed on to Taos, finally arriving on November 29.
Following these events, William Bransford, a merchant in Mora, New Mexico, publicly offered two horses and half the trade goods in his store for Virginia White’s recovery. Yet, many local men who regularly traded with the Indians, along with some Indians themselves, declared that the child was dead. In February 1850, Congress authorized Indian agent James Calhoun to pay $1,500 for Virginia White’s return. Calhoun then dispatched Auguste Lacome, a renowned scout, trader, and mountaineer, along with Encarnacion Garcia, to ascertain their location and the possibility of ransom. Lacome met with various Ute Indians allied with the Jicarilla Apache, who sadly confirmed that Virginia White had been killed shortly after the camp attack, her body reportedly thrown into a river. The servant was also killed a short time later, unable to keep pace with the nomadic band.
Conclusion: The Lasting Impact of the White Massacre
The White Massacre garnered significant public attention and proved to be a pivotal event, marking the beginning of the larger Jicarilla War. Just six months later, in May 1850, a group of mail carriers met a similar fate in the brutal Wagon Mound Massacre, further escalating tensions. In direct response to these increasing depredations, Indian Agent James Calhoun’s repeated requests for more troops were finally heeded. In 1851, Fort Union was strategically constructed near the confluence of the Cimarron and Mountain branches of the Santa Fe Trail. From this crucial outpost, the U.S. Army relentlessly pursued the Jicarilla Apache until they were eventually subdued in 1854. The White Massacre stands as a stark reminder of the violent conflicts and personal tragedies that frequently accompanied America’s westward expansion, shaping the intricate and often brutal history of New Mexico’s frontier.
