Speaker 1: Welcomed Aaron Manky's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of I
Speaker 1: Heart Radio and Grim and Mild. Our world is full
Speaker 1: of the unexplainable, and if history is an open book,
Speaker 1: all of these amazing tales are right there on display,
Speaker 1: just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet
Speaker 1: of Curiosities. We've all seen those apocalyptic movies where the
Speaker 1: populous city has been abandoned. Streets that used to team
Speaker 1: with pedestrians and taxis now sit idle, a still life
Speaker 1: of decay. As grass pokes through potholes and trees flourish
Speaker 1: along sidewalks. It's quiet, quieter than it ever has been before,
Speaker 1: like a living photograph. It's hard to imagine an area
Speaker 1: like New York City or Tokyo suddenly drying up and
Speaker 1: losing its entire population, but it does happen. Chernobyl is
Speaker 1: perhaps the most famous example of a modern ghost town,
Speaker 1: with empty apartment buildings, dilapidated amusement rides, and overgrown parks.
Speaker 1: But there is another location just like it, one that
Speaker 1: saw numerous atrocities and horrors in its day, and it
Speaker 1: survives as a symbol of both a time we'd like
Speaker 1: to remember, and an era we'd like to forget. Nine
Speaker 1: miles from the city of Nagasaki, off the coast of
Speaker 1: Japan is an island. It's small, only sixteen acres large,
Speaker 1: but this postage stamp size plot of land is big
Speaker 1: with history. It's called Hashima, and in eighteen ten coal
Speaker 1: was discovered there, which kicked off its long and complicated history.
Speaker 1: A mining operation was established, and nearly a hundred years later,
Speaker 1: the Mitsubishi Corporation bought the island. Part of the company's
Speaker 1: plan was to expand Hashima's footprint, as well as the
Speaker 1: amount of coal brought up from the mines. Given the
Speaker 1: work being done on the island, was clear that the
Speaker 1: miners needed somewhere to sleep, to eat, and even to play,
Speaker 1: and so Hashima was transformed over the next five decades
Speaker 1: into a full blown city. Apartments were built to house
Speaker 1: the miners, followed by a school, a hospital, and even
Speaker 1: places to shop and relax. It was a self contained
Speaker 1: metropolis surrounded by water, and then World War Two happened.
Speaker 1: Starting in the nineteen thirties, Hashima's minds became a dangerous
Speaker 1: and hellish forced labor camp. Thousands of Chinese and Korean
Speaker 1: workers were brought to the island, required to mind for
Speaker 1: coal underground for twelve hours each day under some of
Speaker 1: the worst conditions imaginable. They had very little water and
Speaker 1: food to sustain them, and the food they did have
Speaker 1: was practically inedible. They did not work clothes, only a
Speaker 1: flimsy undergarment that was provided as a kind of uniform,
Speaker 1: and anyone who refused to work or stopped due to
Speaker 1: exhaustion was beaten or killed, a message to the others
Speaker 1: to keep working. Meanwhile, above ground, the Japanese continued with
Speaker 1: business as usual. They shopped and ate together had fun,
Speaker 1: either unaware or unable to process the war crimes happening
Speaker 1: literally beneath their feet. It was estimated that nearly fifteen
Speaker 1: hundred Koreans and just over seven hundred Chinese laborers were
Speaker 1: tortured and killed on Hashima. By nineteen time marched on
Speaker 1: and the city all but returned to normal. Following the war,
Speaker 1: the population on the island experienced a baby boom of
Speaker 1: its own, reaching over five thousand citizens. However, while the
Speaker 1: number of people living there grew the need for the
Speaker 1: miners began to shrink. The nineteen sixties saw their dependence
Speaker 1: on coal reach and all time low oil was the
Speaker 1: energy source of the future, which meant that the mind
Speaker 1: that had been active since the eighteen hundreds was becoming obsolete.
Speaker 1: Mitsubishi shut it down for good in January of nineteen
Speaker 1: seventy four. With their economy and shambles and their source
Speaker 1: of income shuttered, the people living on the island had
Speaker 1: no reason to stay. Everyone was gone by April of
Speaker 1: that same year. Mitsubishi held onto Hashima until the early
Speaker 1: two thousands, when it finally gave it over to the
Speaker 1: local government. Of course, Nagasaki City, which controls access to
Speaker 1: the island, believe the former burg still had something to offer.
Speaker 1: But if not coal, then what well tourism. Of course
Speaker 1: it took a lot of careful planning, but Hashima Island well,
Speaker 1: a piece of it anyway, open to the public. In
Speaker 1: two thousand nine, tourists were not permitted to venture out
Speaker 1: of a specially cordoned off area due to safety reasons,
Speaker 1: which is still the case today. The apartments and other
Speaker 1: buildings are unstable, their foundations and structures rotting away from
Speaker 1: exposure to the harsh elements, but people from all over
Speaker 1: the world are still fascinated by what Hashima has to offer,
Speaker 1: mainly because it's a time capsule of two distinct periods
Speaker 1: in Japanese history, the tai Show period and the Showa period,
Speaker 1: spanning the nineteen twenties to the mid nineteen seventies. In
Speaker 1: two thousand fifteen, Hashima's Mine was designated a UNESCO World
Speaker 1: Heritage Site, but Japan was told by the committee to
Speaker 1: educate visitors about its problematic past as a forced labor camp. Sadly,
Speaker 1: the island hasn't just preserved a moment in time for
Speaker 1: the Japanese, but it also stands as a monument to
Speaker 1: the cruelty perpetrated during World War Two. Ashima Island was
Speaker 1: geographically and historically much like a typical city. It had
Speaker 1: a shiny facade that everyone saw and a dark secret
Speaker 1: few were willing to acknowledge. But history doesn't forget, and
Speaker 1: neither should we, and the laborers who suffered and died
Speaker 1: there deserve to be remembered. It's hard to let things
Speaker 1: go when we witness injustice in the world, whether it's
Speaker 1: a person in need of help, an animal left by
Speaker 1: the side of the road, or someone being persecuted. Did
Speaker 1: for who they are, it's in our nature to do
Speaker 1: something about it. One British bus driver did just that,
Speaker 1: but while his action against a perceived injustice put him
Speaker 1: on the wrong side of the law and also put
Speaker 1: him on the right side of public opinion. It started
Speaker 1: in August of nineteen sixty one with the unveiling of
Speaker 1: a new exhibit at the National Gallery in London. The
Speaker 1: museum had recently acquired an oil portrait of the Duke
Speaker 1: of Wellington's. First painted around eighteen twelve, it was, as
Speaker 1: the name describes, a portrait of General Arthur Wellesley, the
Speaker 1: first Duke of Wellington, and depicted the Duke in his
Speaker 1: red military uniform adorned with various medals and ribbons acquired
Speaker 1: during his service. It measured roughly inches by twenty one
Speaker 1: inches and had been passed down through the family over
Speaker 1: the years. By the time it went up for auction
Speaker 1: in nineteen sixty one, the painting was owned by John Osborne,
Speaker 1: eleventh Duke of Leeds. It was part of a nasty
Speaker 1: buying war between American industrialist Charles Reitzman and the people
Speaker 1: of Britain. They didn't want the portrait traveling overseas and
Speaker 1: believed that should stay in its rightful home in England,
Speaker 1: and so the Wolfson Foundation stepped in to buy it back.
Speaker 1: The Foundation, a philanthropic organization that provided grants to top
Speaker 1: scientists and arts candidates in their fields, purchased the portrait
Speaker 1: at cost on behalf of the National Gallery. On August
Speaker 1: two of that year, it was made available to the public.
Speaker 1: Everything was quiet for the next nineteen days. On August one, though,
Speaker 1: the painting went missing. The guards didn't say anything at first,
Speaker 1: they figured it had just been moved elsewhere, but when
Speaker 1: it didn't show up the next morning, they called in
Speaker 1: the police. The investigation didn't turn up much over the
Speaker 1: following week until a letter arrived at the London offices
Speaker 1: of Reuters. It had been written by the alleged thief
Speaker 1: and came with a few steep demands. First, they wanted
Speaker 1: one forty thousand pounds donated to charity. Secondly, they wanted
Speaker 1: immunity for returning the portrait. As long as those conditions
Speaker 1: were met, then the National Allery could have its painting back.
Speaker 1: The money never materialized, though, and so neither did the Duke.
Speaker 1: The culprits continued to send letters to the media, hoping
Speaker 1: to see movement on their demands, but nobody took the
Speaker 1: bait until four years later in nineteen That's when a
Speaker 1: fifth and final letter with a much less costly plan
Speaker 1: arrived at the Daily Mirror. It made a simple request
Speaker 1: for one month let the public see the portrait for
Speaker 1: the low cost of five shillings per visit. After that
Speaker 1: it could be reinstalled at the National Gallery, and any
Speaker 1: donations that had been collected would be donated to the
Speaker 1: thief's choice of charity. As with his previous attempts, the
Speaker 1: police didn't bother entertaining the thief, but the Daily Mirror responded.
Speaker 1: It published an article on its front page promising to
Speaker 1: try its best to see that the thief's demands were met,
Speaker 1: and although nothing ever came of it, their efforts must
Speaker 1: have tugged at the culprit's heartstrings because not long after,
Speaker 1: another envelope arrived at the newspaper's offices. Inside it was
Speaker 1: a ticket. It had come from a train station in
Speaker 1: Birmingham and was meant to be redeemed at the station's
Speaker 1: baggage check counter. The paper gave the ticket to Scotland Yard,
Speaker 1: who traveled to the station and exchanged it for a
Speaker 1: carefully wrapped package that had been left behind. It was
Speaker 1: the portrait of the Duke. The painting was still in
Speaker 1: perfect condition, but it was missing his frame. The very
Speaker 1: next week it went back on display at the National Gallery.
Speaker 1: While authorities continued to search for the thief, they didn't
Speaker 1: need to work too hard, though. Sixty one year old
Speaker 1: bus driver Kempton Bunton waltzed into a police station on
Speaker 1: July nine and told them everything. He had been the
Speaker 1: portrait thief all along. So why had he stolen the
Speaker 1: Duke in the first place, and more importantly, why had
Speaker 1: he turned himself in. Bunton, you see, was a man
Speaker 1: of the people. He resented the notion that retirees on
Speaker 1: a fixed income still had to pay the government a
Speaker 1: BBC licensing fee to own a television set. He had
Speaker 1: tried to modify his own television so it couldn't actually
Speaker 1: get a BBC signal, but he wound up in jail
Speaker 1: a few times for failure to pay the fee. Stealing
Speaker 1: the painting and holding it for ransom had been his
Speaker 1: master plan to pay the television fees for himself and
Speaker 1: his fellow retirees. As for why he'd confessed, well, he'd
Speaker 1: accidentally let it slip to his son's girlfriend that he
Speaker 1: had done it. He wanted to beat her to the
Speaker 1: punch in case she turned him in for the reward money.
Speaker 1: Bunton told the police that he had gotten into the
Speaker 1: museum by climbing up a wall along the side of
Speaker 1: the building, then up a ladder that had been left
Speaker 1: out by maintenance workers, until he'd finally located an unlocked
Speaker 1: window and slipped inside. There was just one problem. Though
Speaker 1: Bunton wasn't necessarily young and rather large in size, there
Speaker 1: was no way he could have pulled off the heist,
Speaker 1: at least not by himself, but he went to trial
Speaker 1: for it regardless. He argued that technically the painting was
Speaker 1: no longer stolen, all he was really guilty of taking
Speaker 1: was the frame, and the jury agreed. Then he went
Speaker 1: to jail for only three months. But something still didn't
Speaker 1: sit with the police nor the public. The idea that
Speaker 1: this rather heavy set, older gentleman could have climbed his
Speaker 1: way into the National Gallery and made off with such
Speaker 1: a high profile item still puzzled them. Several years later
Speaker 1: everyone got the truth. Bunton's son, John found himself in
Speaker 1: police custody for a totally different offense. He was afraid
Speaker 1: that after he was booked into the system, his fingerprints
Speaker 1: would come up as a match to the prince from
Speaker 1: the original portrait investigation. Rather than wait for the other
Speaker 1: shoe to drop, John simply turned himself in. He had
Speaker 1: been the real thief all along, having swiped the portrait
Speaker 1: to bolster his father's BBC licensing cause. Funny enough, the
Speaker 1: Prince didn't actually match up anyway, and the authorities had
Speaker 1: no evidence to go on, so they let him go.
Speaker 1: The case of the theft, however, became incredibly popular across Britain,
Speaker 1: so much so that it was even referenced in the
Speaker 1: first ever James Bond film, Doctor No, back in nineteen
Speaker 1: sixty two. In one scene, Dr No, portrayed by Joseph Wiseman,
Speaker 1: leads Sean Connery up a small staircase beside which sits
Speaker 1: the portrait well a very convincing prop At least, Bond
Speaker 1: notices it and examines it up close, incredulous that it
Speaker 1: should be found in the layer of the film's main villain.
Speaker 1: It's often said that art imitates life, but in this case,
Speaker 1: life would also imitate art because After filming completed, the
Speaker 1: film's version of the painting also went on display, and
Speaker 1: then it too was stolen. I hope you've enjoyed today's
Speaker 1: guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free
Speaker 1: on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by
Speaker 1: visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by
Speaker 1: me Aaron Manky in partnership with how Stuff Works. I
Speaker 1: make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast,
Speaker 1: book series, and television show, and you can learn all
Speaker 1: about it over at the World of Lore or dot
Speaker 1: Come and until next time, stay curious. H