The 71-year-old – who changed his name to Salvador in 2014 – is one of Britain’s longest-serving inmates after first being jailed in 1974 for armed robbery.
In the decades since, he has spent time in various prisons up and down the country, as well as Broadmoor Hospital, and claims to have rubbed shoulders with some of the UK’s most infamous criminals.
Speaking from high-security HMP Woodhill, Bronson recounted his most memorable encounters inside, the best bit of advice he has received behind bars and his plans for the future.
Dubbed one of Britain’s most violent prisoners, Bronson’s original seven-year term has been repeatedly extended after attacks on prison staff and inmates.
He has taken 11 people hostage.
Bronson has featured in and co-authored several books detailing his experiences in jail and helped work on another due for release next month, characteristically titled ’50 Years of Porridge’.
‘How do I look back on it? You know me, I’ve got no regrets,’ he said of his journey so far. ‘Life’s too short to regret. But looking back, I feel lucky.
‘My soul is good. My heart’s good. I feel happy. I’ve still got hope. I’ve got faith. And on top of all that, I’ve got some beautiful, wonderful friends.
Latest London news
‘So, through all these 50 years, as bad as it has been – at times horrendous, brutal, cold, empty, hopeless – I’ve met some of the greatest characters that some people only ever read about.
‘Legends, icons. The Great Train Robbers, I’ve met them all. I’ve done bird with all of them.
‘Some of the top gangsters. I’ve met them all, the good the bad and the ugly. And if I wasn’t going on the journey I was on, I would never have met them.
‘I have lived with them, fought with them, I’ve cried with them. Sometimes, it’s been horrible, sad, and tragic.’
Bronson picks out notorious east London gangsters Ronnie and Reggie Kray as the most memorable people he has met inside.
He said: ‘There’s no-one compares to them two. They were gentlemen. They were legends. They were decent human beings. They never went against their own. They stood loyal.
‘They were great guys, especially Ron. Ron was special, very, very special. I don’t even have to think about it. Ron and Reggie, all day long.’
Bronson credits the best piece of advice he has ever received in prison to another feared crime lord – ‘Mad’ Frankie Fraser.
Fraser, who was infamous for pulling victims’ teeth out with pliers, similarly saw his seven-year sentence stretch across several decades.
‘I bumped into Frank in 1976, in Wandsworth Prison block – the Dungeon,’ Bronson said.
‘He said to me one day on the exercise yard, “Don’t think it, do it”. I remember saying to him, “What do you mean by that?”
‘He said, “Well, when you think of hitting someone or you think of smashing your cell up or you If you think of smashing a roof up, don’t keep thinking about it, it’ll drive you mad. Just do it”.
‘And I think that’s the greatest advice. Not so much if it is crime and violence, but in the outside world, if you’re really doing something good in life, don’t hold back. Just do it. Don’t think it, do it.’
Bronson has previously described in letters to Metro how his artwork helped him find his ‘true self’ in prison, describing how he has ‘swapped (my) sawn-off shotgun for a sawn-off paintbrush’.
‘My art is a gift of life,’ he says now. ‘I only wish I would have found that gift 40 years ago. It would have saved me a lot of pain, misery, grief, heartache, brutality.
‘Before my art, all I used to do was walk up and down my cell, press ups all day long, sit ups all day long. I’d hear something outside the door, a noise, a cough, keys jangling, boots on the floor, and it all wind me up. Silly little things would wind me up. Now, I don’t give a monkey.
‘And every time I create something, I send it to a charity. They sell it, and I’m helping people. And that is a gift of life. Love it. Without my art, I’d never see daylight. I know I wouldn’t. My art has saved me.
‘It’s true to say, art has been my main rehabilitation. The prison system keeps going on and on and on about rehabilitation. They’ve never rehabilitated me. I’ve rehabilitated myself. Absolutely.
‘The people outside will go, oh, Charlie, never get out. He doesn’t want to get out. Look what he’s done there. Well, let me tell you something – I haven’t done nothing bad for the last nearly 10 years. I’ve practically been a model prisoner. And that’s down to my art. And I’m bloody proud of it.’
Bronson took part in one of the first public parole hearings last year, saying: ‘I have had more porridge than Goldilocks and the three bears and I’m sick of it’.
But the Parole Board said it was ‘not satisfied that Mr Salvador was suitable for release’. He is eligible for review every two years.
Despite the knock-back, Bronson still has plans for a life outside.
‘When I get settled down, when all the hostel life is finished and the probation is finished, I’m going to get myself a nice little two-bedroom cottage out in the wilderness, five miles away from the nearest village, 10 miles away from the nearest fish and chip shop,’ he said.
‘I’ll run there and run back.
‘I’m going to get two dogs, all mastiffs. I love Bull Mastiffs, and they’re going to be called Ronnie and Reggie. I’m going to turn one of my bedrooms into an art studio, and I’m going to create my art in peace, tranquilly.
‘When I get out, I’m going to do a lot of good things. And believe me now, I’m not far from getting out, God willing, next year.
‘But if I don’t make it next year, put your house on it. I’ll be out in two years from next year.’
‘50 Years of Porridge’ is released on October 7 and will be available through Amazon.
.
This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.