Another Round

that didn't mean decadence was off the menu. It was still very much encouraged for those who could afford it. Of course, in the early twentieth century, many shipping companies were competing for customers, especially among the leisure class. The White Star Line was duking it out with the Cunard to see which of their companies could create the most

luxurious ships, and largely they spared no expense. White Star Lines knew Olympic class liners were a thing of beauty and decorated to match the most opulent hotels in New York and London, so the upper classes wouldn't feel out of place. It was now faster than ever to cover the distance between England and the United States, particularly New York, so the well to do were making the trip more often. Families, businessmen and young men heading off on a tour of

Europe before settling down. All wanted for nothing on these ships. They were built to cater to the likes of the vanderbilts, Asters and Rockefellers. From the bedrooms to the entertainment on the menus, they would only get the best upper class Passengers Stepping onto these ships could be greeted by a glorious grand staircase beneath the chandelier, or in one case, an enormous dome that was lit to give the illusion

of natural light at all hours. They could promenade, although the outdoor temperatures weren't often hospitable for long walks, enjoy a swimming pool, Turkish baths, squad courts, and a state of the art jim. Crews were meant to stay away from passengers unless they were working directly with them. They would have enjoyed similar accommodations as steerage and were expected to work every day of the week, so they wouldn't

have spent much time in their rooms. Instead, they were at their posts all the time, but surprisingly that's not where Charles Jackin was late in the evening on April fourteenth when he got the news. Charles was born in England in eighteen seventy eight, enjoying the Royal Navy at the age of eleven, following family tradition. By nineteen twelve he was an experienced sailor and had found a place

for himself in ship's kitchens as a baker. On this particular voyage, he was in charge of a staff of thirteen, which included ten bakers, two confectioners, and a vienna baker. He had a wife, Louise, and two kids, a daughter, Agnes aged four, and Roland aged two. Charles was due to earn a monthly wage of about twelve pounds that

he could use to support his family. At almost a thousand pounds, this was one of his highest salaries on board, not surprisingly given his experience and responsibilities, which was probably why when the Titanic hit that Iceberg that terrible April night in nineteen twelve, Charles Jackin jumped into action. Charles was in his bunk sleeping, but was woken by the collision and ran into the hallway to see what had happened.

He was immediately confronted with chaos. While the crew tried their best to help people who were panicking and terrified, Charles sprang into action and began to take control where he could. He ordered his bakers to start transporting fifty loaves of bread that they already had to the top decks, where they were launching the lifeboats. Charles wanted to be sure the survivors would have enough food to last until they were rescued. As they worked, icy water was streaming

into the ship, and she was sinking rapidly. Many of the men in first class helped their families board the lifeboats and then returned to their cabins to dress for the occasion. Benjamin Guggenheim reportedly said, we've dressed up in our best and are prepared to go down like gentlemen. Having given up his seat on the lifeboat, Charles Jackin returned to his cabin for a different purpose. He got drunk,

spectacularly drunk. He worked his way back to the upper decks after that and began tossing deck chairs overboard, hoping to give the survivors something to float on. Charles donned a lifebelt and made his way down to the pantry for a quick glass of water before he felt a terrific crash. The Titanic had broken in two from the pressure. Stumbling to the stern of the ship, he held onto

the railing and waited. At two twenty in the morning, the remaining half of the ship went vertical and disappeared into the Atlantic. Charles was probably one of the last people still on board as he bobbed into the frigid waters. The shock had caused many people to seize up and drown as soon as they entered. However, Charles was a strong swimmer and began to tread water. He kept going for two and a half hours in the darkness. When the sun began to rise, he finally found a lifeboat

and was pulled aboard. Shortly afterwards, the RMS Carpathia arrived and rescued the survivors, including and increasingly sober Charles. Thanks to the incredible amount of whiskey he imbibed and his implacable calm, Charles Jackins survived the sinking of a Titanic and lived to serve in the Great War and died in nineteen fifty six at the age of seventy eight.

We've all seen the part of the cop show where the suspect is locked in a small room with the detectives snickering, thinking he's going to get away with his crime, and then before he knows that he's in handcuffs after having spilled all of the sort of details to them. Television shows and movies don't show how excruciating the confession process can be, both for the detectives and the suspects. It can require hours of questioning, with tempers and temperatures

rising for everyone involved. But one woman had an idea to not only make it easier to get a confession out of someone, but to make it stick, no bones about it. Her name was Helene Adelaide Shelby, and on August sixteenth of nineteen twenty seven, she filed the patent for an apparatus for obtaining criminal confessions and photographically recording them.

This was a tall order in the days before a closed circuit cameras and listening devices were installed in police interrogation rooms everywhere, but it turned out to be the

perfect time to revolutionize the justice system. Big trials like the Scopes monkey Trial, which debated the teaching of human evolution in Tennessee public schools, as well as the Saco Vanzetti murder trial had turned the courtroom into a spectacle, and those trials were often disrupted by the suspects themselves, who would recant their confessions, later claiming that they were

taken under durests or intimidation. But Shelby's new invention would prevent that, how by altering their state of mind with fear. In order for the effect of work, the suspect would be locked in a small, dimly lit room by themselves, or so they thought. Meanwhile, the detective or examiner would sit in an adjacent room out of view of the person being questioned. Then they would ask their questions through a megaphone in the wall. But this alone wouldn't be

enough to elicit a confession. For that, Shelby proposed the use of a special tool. The examiner would press a button on a switchboard, and in the suspect's dark little closet chamber, a curtain would rise, revealing a skeleton. This skeleton would be lit by electric lights from underneath and above, while being draped in delicate, translucent fabric. It was meant to give it a ghostly appearance. Thus terrifying the person

in the room enough to confess their crimes. But what really sold the performance were the skeleton's eyes, which were made of red light bulbs. They would glow from behind the veil, here seeing the soul of the suspect across from them, as the examiner continued to ask them questions

through the speaker embedded in the skeleton's mouth. And to top it all off, a film camera would be stalled in its skull to capture the picture and audio of the confession, preventing the suspect from recanting in the future. Shelby believed that if the confession was caught on film, it would be easy to go back and look at the suspects facial expressions and body language to confirm whether

or not they were telling the truth. It was a revolutionary idea at the time, if not a bit absurd, But then again, the CIA tried the same thing in the nineteen sixties. Instead of a skeleton, they attempted to trick the Cubans into overthrowing Fidel Castro by telling them the second coming of Jesus Christ was imminent and that Christ hated the dictator. Fear is and has always been a powerful motivator, but unfortunately it isn't the best choice

when dealing with matters of the law. Her ghastly creation was not adopted by the police, and it probably wouldn't have lasted long anyway. Over thirty years later, coerced confessions were deemed inadmissible as evidence by the United States Supreme Court. Pauline Shelby did not invent anything else during her lifetime. She dabbled in real estate, got married, then even played

the ponies to some success. But she'll forever be remembered as the woman who believed that she could trick the average criminal into confessing their deepest, darkest secrets, all with the help of some elaborate Halloween decorations. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Mank in partnership with how Stuff Works.

I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious,