The work of another researcher, Dr. Luigi Garlaschelli, backed up Dr. Cullen’s findings. The renowned organic chemist and part-time debunker of reputed miracles like weeping or bleeding statues examined various food items that were said to have bled spontaneously. To determine whether the “blood” was real or not, Garlaschelli tested the items for the presence of hemoglobin, the oxygen-carrying pigment that gives vertebrate blood its red color. In the end, the tests revealed no hemoglobin but plenty of contamination by S. marcescens, and the Italian chemist further demonstrated the likely origin of the bleeding hosts by culturing the bacterium on slices of ordinary white bread.
Quite possibly, then, a common microbe contaminated the bleeding hosts of the Middle Ages, which is actually kind of amusing until you realize how many thousands of innocent people were murdered because of this tragic bit of ignorance and misinterpretation.
A final word on the relationship between transubstantiation and cannibalism concerns the Uruguayan survivors of the Old Christians Rugby Club, who employed what became known as the “communion defense” to justify the incidents of cannibalism that took place after their 1972 plane crash in the Andes. Soon after the 16 survivors returned to civilization, positive public opinion over their plight took a nosedive after it was revealed that the men had remained alive for 72 days by consuming the bodies of the dead. Not long after their rescue, and with their hero status now on shaky footing, a press conference was held. Survivor Pablo Delgado (who was studying to become a lawyer) told reporters that Christ’s Last Supper had inspired him and the other survivors. Basically, Delgado explained, since Jesus had shared his own body with his disciples, it was okay that they had done the same with their deceased comrades. After hearing this explanation, even the skeptics were won over, and soon after, the Archbishop of Montevideo made it official by absolving the young men of their cannibalism-related sins.
Years later, some of the Andes survivors admitted that relating their cannibalistic acts to the sacrament was actually more of a public relations exercise than a religious experience. According to survivor Carlos Paez, “We were hungry, we were cold and we needed to live—these were the most important factors in our decision.”
With this in mind, it is now time to examine the phenomenon of survival cannibalism.
12: The Worst Party Ever
It is a long road and those who follow it must meet certain risks; exhaustion and disease, alkali water, and Indian arrows will take a toll. But the greatest problem is a simple one, and the chief opponent is Time. If August sees them on the Humboldt and September at the Sierra—good! Even if they are a month delayed, all may yet go well. But let it come late October, or November, and the snowstorms block the heights, when wagons are light of provisions and the oxen lean, then will come a story.
— George R. Stewart, Ordeal by Hunger, 1936
It was late June, and by the time we arrived at Alder Creek, the air at snout level (which was currently about an inch off the ground) had risen to an uncomfortable 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Kayle, a five-year-old black-and-white border collie, raised her head, searching in vain for a breeze. There was a rustling in the brush nearby and something (probably a chipmunk) provided a welcome distraction to the task at hand. Kayle took a step toward the commotion.
“No,” came a calm voice. It was Kayle’s owner and handler, John Grebenkemper. “Go to work.” Work, in this case, referred to Kayle’s training as a HHRD dog, which was an abbreviation for Historical Human Remains Detection. In short, Kayle was searching for bodies—old ones.
The dog responded instantly, reversing direction while lowering her nose to the ground. I hitched my backpack higher and followed, taking a moment to survey the meadow where Kayle slowly sniffed her way in the direction of a large pine tree. At an elevation of 5,800 feet, we were in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, just across the Nevada border and into California. It had been a dry spring throughout the American West, and the fist-sized clumps of grass that had sprouted from the rocky soil were already turning brown. We’d passed several creek beds and I remembered reading about the muddy conditions that had led to the construction of a low boardwalk for the tourists visiting the incongruously named Donner Camp and Picnic Area.
No need for a boardwalk today, I thought.
We headed farther and farther away from the trail and into a mountain meadow strewn with wildflowers: orange-colored Indian paintbrush, yellow cinquefoils, purple penstemon. I’d come to the Alder Creek historic site to learn about the Donner Party, a subject I had initially planned to explore only in passing. I mean, who would be interested in yet another rehashing of what was probably the most infamous example of cannibalism in U.S. history?16