Three Hearings on the Existence of Snakes in the Human Bloodstream

2. The Origin of Serpentine Analogues in the Blood of Papist Peoples:

Her Britannic Majesty, Anne VI, rather liked the Star Chamber. True, its power had been monstrously abused at times in the past five centuries—secret trials leading to secret executions of people who were probably more innocent than the monarchs sitting on the judgment seat—but even in the glorious Empire, there was a place for confidential hearings. The queen on this side of the table, one of her subjects on the other… it had the air of a private chat between friends: a time when difficulties could get sorted out, one way or another.

“Well, Mr. Darwin,” she said after the tea had been poured, “it seems you’ve stirred up quite a hornet’s nest. Have you not?”

The fiercely bearded man across the table did not answer immediately. He laid a finger on the handle of his cup as if to drink or not to drink was some momentous decision; then he said, “I have simply spoken the truth, ma’am… as I see it.”

“Yes; but different people see different truths, don’t they? And the things you say are true have upset a great many of my loyal subjects. You are aware there has been… unpleasantness?”

“I know about the riots, ma’am. Several times they have come uncomfortably close to me. And, of course, there have been threats on my life.”

“Indeed.” Anne lifted a tiny slice of buttered bread and took what she hoped would seem a thoughtful nibble. For some reason, she always enjoyed eating in front of the accused here in the Star Chamber; they themselves never had any appetite at all. “The threats are one reason We invited you here today. Scotland Yard is growing rather weary of protecting you; and Sir Oswald has long pondered whether your life is worth it.”

That got the expected reaction—Darwin’s finger froze on the cup handle, the color draining away from his face. “I had not realized…” His eyes narrowed. “I perceive, ma’am, that someone will soon make a decision on this issue.”

“Exactly,” the queen said. “Sir Oswald has turned to the crown for guidance, and now We turn to you.” She took another tiny bite of the bread. “It would be good of you to explain your theories—to lay out the train of reasoning that led to your… unsettling public statements.”

“It’s all laid out in my book, ma’am.”

“But your book is for scientists, not queens.” Anne set down the bread and allowed herself a small sip of tea. She took her time doing so, but Darwin remained silent. “Please,” she said at last. “We wish to make an informed decision.”

Darwin grunted… or perhaps it was a hollow chuckle of cynicism. An ill-bred sound in either case. “Very well, Your Majesty.” He nodded. “It is simply a matter of history.”

“History is seldom simple, Mr. Darwin; but proceed.”

“In… 1430 something, I forget the exact year, Anton Leeuwenhoek appeared before Supreme Patriarch Septus to discuss the absence of snakes in the bloodstream. You are familiar with that, ma’am?”

“Certainly. It was the pivotal event in the Schism between Our church and the Papists.”

“Just so.”

Anne could see Darwin itching to leap off his chair and begin prowling about the room, like a professor lecturing to a class of dull-lidded schoolboys. His strained impetuosity amused her; but she hoped he would keep his impulses in check. “Pray continue, Mr. Darwin.”

“It is common knowledge that the Patriarch’s decision led to a… a deluge, shall we say, of people peering at their own blood through a microscope. Only the upper classes at first, but soon enough it spread to the lower levels of society too. Since the church allowed anyone to look into a microscope without cost, I suppose it was a free source of amusement for the peasantry.”

“An opiate for the masses,” Anne offered. She rather liked the phrase—Mr. Marx had used it when he had his little visit to the Star Chamber.

“I suppose that must be it,” Darwin agreed. “At any rate, the phenomenon far outstripped anything Septus could have foreseen; and even worse for the Patriarchy, it soon divided the church into two camps—those who claimed to see snakes in their blood and those who did not.”

“Mr. Darwin, We are well aware of the fundamental difference between Papists and the Redeemed.”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I believe the usual historical interpretation is… flawed. It confuses cause and effect.”

“How can there be confusion?” Anne asked. “Papists have serpents in their blood; that is apparent to any child looking into a microscope. We Redeemed have no such contaminants; again, that is simple observational fact. The obvious conclusion, Mr. Darwin, is that Christ Herself marked the Papists with Her curse, to show one and all the error of their ways.”

“According to the Papists,” Darwin reminded her, “the snakes are a sign of God’s blessing: a sleeping snake means sin laid to rest.”

“Is that what you think, Mr. Darwin?”

“I think it more practical to examine the facts before making any judgment.”

“That is why we are here today,” Anne said with a pointed glance. “Facts… and judgment. If you could direct yourself to the heart of the matter, Mr. Darwin?”

“The heart of the matter,” he repeated. “Of course. I agree that today any microscope will show Papists have snakes in their bloodstream… or as scientists prefer to call them, serpentine analogues, since it is highly unlikely the observed phenomena are actual reptiles—”

“Let us not bandy nomenclature,” Anne interrupted. “We accept that the entities in Papist blood are unrelated to cobras and puff adders; but they have been called snakes for centuries, and the name is adequate. Proceed to your point, Mr. Darwin.”

“You have just made my point for me, ma’am. Several centuries have passed since the original controversy arose. What we see now may not be what people saw then.” He took a deep breath. “If you read the literature of that long-ago time, you find there was great doubt about the snakes, even among the Papists. Serpentine analogues were extremely rare and difficult to discern… unlike the very obvious entities seen today.”

“Surely that can be blamed on the equipment,” Anne said. “Microscopes of that day were crude contrivances compared to our fine modern instruments.”

“That is the usual argument”—Darwin nodded—“but I believe there is a different explanation.”

“Yes?”

“My argument, ma’am, is based on my observations of pigeons.”

Anne blinked. “Pigeons, Mr. Darwin?” She blinked again. “The birds?” She bit her lip. “The filthy things that perch on statues?”

“Not wild pigeons, Your Majesty, domestic ones. Bred for show. For example, some centuries ago, a squire in Sussex took it into his head to breed a black pigeon from his stock of gray ones.”

“Why ever would he want a black pigeon?”

“That remains a mystery to me too, ma’am; but the historical records are clear. He set about the task by selecting pigeons of the darkest gray he could find, and breeding them together. Over many generations, their color grew darker and darker until today, the squire’s descendants boast of pigeons as black as coal.”

“They boast of that?”

“Incessantly.”

Darwin seized up a piece of bread and virtually stuffed it into his mouth. The man had apparently become so engrossed in talking, he had forgotten who sat across the table. Good, Anne thought; he would be less guarded.

“We understand the principles of animal husbandry,” Anne said. “We do not, however, see how this pertains to the Papists.”

“For the past five centuries, Your Majesty, the Papists have been going through exactly the same process… as have the Redeemed, for that matter. Think, ma’am. In any population, there are numerous chance differences between individuals; the squire’s pigeons, for example, had varying shades of gray. If some process of selection chooses to emphasize a particular trait as desirable, excluding other traits as undesirable—if you restrict darker birds to breeding with one another and prevent lighter ones from contributing to the bloodline—the selected characteristic will tend to become more pronounced with each generation.”

“You are still talking about pigeons, Mr. Darwin.”

“No, ma’am,” he said triumphantly, “I am talking about Papists and the Redeemed. Let us suppose that in the times of Patriarch Septus, some people had almost imperceptible serpentine analogues in their bloodstream—a chance occurrence, just as some people may have curls in their hair while others do not.”

Anne opened her mouth to say that curls were frequently not a chance occurrence at all; but she decided to remain silent.

“Now,” Darwin continued, “what happened among the people of that day? Some saw those tiny, almost invisible snakes; others did not. Those, who saw them proclaimed, This proves the unshakable word of Mother Church. Those who saw nothing said, The scriptures cannot be taken literally—believers must find the truth in their own hearts. And so the Schism split the world, pitting one camp against another.”

“Yes, Mr. Darwin, We know all that.”

“So, ma’am, you must also know what happened in subsequent generations. The rift in belief created a similar rift in the population. Papists only married Papists. The Redeemed only married the Redeemed.”

“Of course.”

“Consequently”—Darwin stressed the word—“those who could see so-called snakes in their blood only married those of similar condition. Those who saw nothing married others who saw nothing. Is it any wonder that, generation by generation, snakes became more and more visible in Papist blood? And less and less likely to be seen in the Redeemed? It is simply a matter of selective breeding, ma’am. The Papists are not different from us because the Virgin put her mark on them; they are different because they selected to make themselves different. To emphasize the difference. And the Redeemed have no snakes in their blood for the same reason—simply a side effect of our ancestors’ marital prejudice.”

“Mr. Darwin!” Anne said, aghast. “Such claims! No wonder you have angered the Papists as much as your own countrymen. To suggest God’s sacred sign is a mere barnyard accident…” The Queen caught her breath. “Sir, where is your decency?”

“I have something better than decency,” he answered in a calm voice. “I have proof.”

“Proof? How could you prove such a thing?”

“Some years ago, ma’am,” he said, “I took passage on a ship sailing the South Seas; and during that voyage, I saw things that completely opened my eyes.”

“More pigeons, Mr. Darwin?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “The birds of the Pacific Islands are hardly fit study for a scientist. What I observed were the efforts of missionaries, ma’am; both Papists and the Redeemed, preaching to the natives who lived in those isles. Have you heard of such missions?”

“We sponsor several of those missions personally, Mr. Darwin.”

“And the results, ma’am?”

“Mixed,” Anne confessed. “Some tribes are open to Redemption, while others…” She shrugged. “The Papists do no better.”

“Just so, Your Majesty. As an example, I visited one island where the Papists had been established for thirty years, yet the local priest claimed to have made no true converts. Mark that word, true. Many of the natives espoused Papist beliefs, took part in Papist worship, and so on… but the priest could find no snakes in their blood, so he told himself they had not truly embraced Mother Church.”

“You would argue with the priest’s conclusion?”

“Certainly,” Darwin replied. “In my eyes, the island tribe was simply a closed population which for reasons of chance never developed serpentine analogues in their blood. If you interbreed only white pigeons, you will never develop a black.”

Anne said, “But—” then stopped stone-still as the words of a recent mission report rose in her mind. We are continually frustrated in our work on this island; although the people bow before God’s altar, their blood continues to show the serpent-stain of the Unclean…

“Mr. Darwin,” Anne murmured, “could there possibly be islands where all the people had snakes in their blood, regardless of their beliefs?”

“There are indeed, ma’am,” Darwin nodded. “Almost all the island populations are isolated and homogeneous. I found some tribes with snakes, some without—no matter which missionaries ministered there. When the Papists land among a people who already have analogues in their bloodstream, they soon declare they have converted the tribe and hold great celebrations. However, when they land among a people whose blood is clear… well, they can preach all they want, but they won’t change the effects of generations of breeding. Usually, they just give up and move on to another island where the people are more receptive… which is to say, where they have the right blood to begin with.”

“Ah.”

Anne lowered her eyes. Darwin had been speaking about the Papists, but she knew the same was true of Redeemed missionaries. They tended to stay a year in one place, do a few blood tests, then move on if they could not show results—because results were exclusively measured in blood rather than in what the people professed. If missionaries, her own missionaries, had been abandoning sincere believers because they didn’t believe the conversions were “true”… what would God think of that?

But Darwin hadn’t stopped talking. “Our voyage visited many islands, Your Majesty, a few of which had never received missionaries of any kind. Some of those tribes had serpentine analogues in their blood, while some did not… and each island was homogeneous. I hypothesize the potential for analogues might have been distributed evenly through humankind millennia ago; but as populations grew isolated, geographically or socially—”

“Yes, Mr. Darwin, We see your point.” Anne found she was tapping her finger on the edge of the table. She stopped herself and stood up. “This matter deserves further study. We shall instruct the police to find a place where you can continue your work without disturbance from outside sources.”

Darwin’s face fell. “Would that be a jail, ma’am?”

“A comfortable place of sanctuary,” she replied. “You will be supplied with anything you need—books, paper, all of that.”

“Will I be able to publish?” he asked.

“You will have at least one avid reader for whatever you write.” She favored him with the slightest bow of her head. “You have given us much to think about.”

“Then let me give you one more thought, Your Majesty.” He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to decide if his next words would be offensive beyond the pale. Then, Anne supposed, he decided he had nothing to lose. “Papists and the Redeemed have been selectively breeding within their own populations for hundreds of years. There may come a time when they are too far removed from each other to be… cross-fertile. Already there are rumors of an unusually high mortality rate for children with one Papist parent and one Redeemed. In time—millennia perhaps, but in time—if we continue with segregated breeding, I believe the two populations may split into separate species.”

“Separate species? Of humans?”

“It may happen, Your Majesty. At this very moment, we may be witnessing the origin of two new species.”

Queen Anne pursed her lips in distaste. “The origin of species, Mr. Darwin? If that is a joke, We are not amused.”