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Desert Island Discs
Presented by Sue Lawley
A writer best known for a series of historically researched novels about a British soldier in the Napoleonic Wars, featuring hero Richard Sharpe.
Eight records
Pie Jesu (from Requiem, Op. 48)
The Cambridge Singers and City of London Sinfonia, conducted by John Rutter
it's liturgical, it's one of the most beautiful pieces of church music, and I collect church music, liturgical music, and this is one of my favourites.
This is my nod towards fundamentalist Christianity. I couldn't bear to be on my desert island listening to sort of Jesus Wants Be for a Sunbeam, but I love this song
After a time I'm going to find myself in Belfast, and I remember the first summer living in Belfast. It seemed to me that every street you walked down you heard astral weeks, and so it's a happy memory of that lovely city.
well record number four is is is really a record about exile and and it's about Judy, my American wife, and it's the song that that sort of haunted us in our courtship
this is one of my all-time favourites, of course, Over the Hills and Far Away, which was the in fact the song with the rifles in the Napoleonic Wars ... and which of course closed every single programme of sharp.
Mary Plazas, Diana Montague and the Philharmonia Orchestra, conducted by David Parry
simply because this is the British Airways' signature tune. And and Judy and I both love to travel and come to England an enormous amount. And if I'm on my desert island every time I hear this I will think of those theatre visits to London and all the good times that we've been travelling.
Benedictus (from Requiem in D minor, K. 626)Favourite
I can remember years ago, in I was very young, hearing Mozart's Requiem and being swept away, and I still am swept away.
Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys
one of the most wonderful romantic things I think about America is driving down the long interstates ... And there's only one thing you can have on the radio as you drive the interstates and that's Country and Western.
The keepsakes
The book
John Cowper Powys
it's full of an exquisite sensibility and and I've never really given it the time it deserves, so I want to take that.
In conversation
Presenter asks
What made it happen eventually [writing your first novel]? Because it didn't happen until your late thirties.
It happened in my late thirties and I was working in Belfast ... and out walked a blonde. And I said to my reporter, I'm going to marry that one. And that was Judy. And she was American, and for family reasons she couldn't live in Britain. And I could go to the States. I had no ties. But I couldn't get a work permit. So I airily said to her, Don't worry, darling. I'll write a book. And well, we're still married and I'm still writing the books.
Presenter asks
How did this [fundamentalist upbringing] affect daily life? What was it like living with them?
I don't remember it fondly, which is sad, because in fact they were actually very good people ... As fundamentalist Christians often are, they're honest, they're painfully honest, they work to be honest. And as as my real mother said when she saw them, when they came to pick me up for adoption, she said I could see they weren't cuddly. And and she was right, they weren't cuddly ... What my father wanted above all was to save my soul.
The recording
Timestamps play the recording from that turn
Speaker 3
Hello, I'm Kirsty Young, and this is a podcast from the Desert Island Discs archive. For rights reasons we've had to shorten the music. The programme was originally broadcast in two thousand and four, and the presenter was Sue Lawley.
Presenter
My castaway this week is a writer. In a series of highly popular and scrupulously researched historical novels, he tells the story of an English soldier in the Napoleonic Wars. His hero, Richard Sharp, has risen from the ranks and serves under Wellington in India, Spain, and of course at Waterloo. Sharpe's creator has experienced a life that sounds as though it comes from a novel. The illegitimate son of a wartime romance, he was adopted and brought up by religious fundamentalists who banned television, medicine and fun from the house. He rebelled, became a television producer and then left for America with the woman he'd married on the promise that he'd provide for them both by writing. And that's exactly what he's done. I'm a storyteller, not a historian, he says. It's not the most difficult thing to do. He is Bernard Cornwell. Not difficult, Bernard, if you have the ability to write, but what you have to do is spot the gap in the market for fictionalised military history, I dare say.
Bernard Cornwell
I guess that's true. I mean, years and years ago I read all the Hornblur. When I'd finished Hornblur, there's no more to read. I mean, C.S. Forrester tragically only wrote eleven. So I I went off and found the non-fiction histories and through those I discovered these amazing stories about Wellington's army and and I haunted the bookshops thinking somebody must write this series, Hornblur on Dry Land. And of course nobody did. And and then I thought, well why don't you do it?
Presenter
The crew.
Presenter
But why the fascination with Wellington? Where had that begun, and when?
Bernard Cornwell
I think that the fascination came totally off Hornbleu, and that in turn goes right back to my adopted parents, who who, among other things, disapproved of the military. They they if you were a member of that sect, you had to be a conscientious objector.
Presenter
So it was a kind of rebellion, was it?
Bernard Cornwell
So it was a
Bernard Cornwell
Absolutely.
Presenter
So you weren't allowed toy guns or Roy Rogers outfits or?
Bernard Cornwell
No, no, no, absolutely not, no. Which I'm I'm looking back on it, it seems to me an entirely sensible thing to do is not to let your children sort of grow up with toy kalashnikovs. But of course if you do, like me, grow up without them, then all you want is uh toy kalashnikovs.
Presenter
Yeah.
Presenter
But did you know that you could write? I mean, was that there too?
Bernard Cornwell
I don't think I did know it. When I wrote the first sharp book I had no idea, absolutely no idea, and it's a terrifying thing to do the first book.
Presenter
Oh
Bernard Cornwell
But we must
Presenter
But there must have been something more than that. There must have been, you know, something in you that said, I am going to. I want to run. You have to want to.
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, I'd always wanted to. I'd always wanted to write. I mean, I'd always had the idea that it was better than working, which has actually turned out to be entirely true. But I mean, writing a few sentences for an intro on Nationwide, where we worked, is very different from writing 400 pages of a novel. And the great terror for most people on writing their first novel is actually going the full length. And that was, I think, the biggest problem at the beginning.
Presenter
So what was the catalyst? What brought it all together? You've got the passion for history. You've got the ability to write or think you might have if you could give it a go. What made it happen eventually? Because it didn't happen until your late thirties.
Bernard Cornwell
It happened in my late thirties and I was working in Belfast, and the Northern Irish Tourist Board, in its wisdom, brought some American travel agents to Ulster as a tourist destination. It was crazy. It was insane. It was, I hope it remains the second worst year of the Troubles. But we filmed it.
Bernard Cornwell
And Jeremy Paxman was was one of my reporters, a very young Jeremy Paxman. And I remember that we went to meet these travel agents and a lift door opened and out walked a blonde. And I said to my reporter, I'm going to marry that one. And that was Judy. And she was American, and for family reasons she couldn't live in Britain. And I could go to the States. I had no ties. But I couldn't get a work permit. So I airily said to her, Don't worry, darling. I'll write a book. And well, we're still married and I'm still writing the books.
Presenter
And that was what, twenty five years ago and you've written more than forty books.
Bernard Cornwell
Twenty-five years ago.
Bernard Cornwell
Forty one
Presenter
Okay, let's have your first record.
Bernard Cornwell
Well, the first one is by Forrest Maria.
Bernard Cornwell
Marta Gratii, and it's liturgical, it's one of the most beautiful pieces of church music, and I collect church music, liturgical music, and this is one of my favourites.
Speaker 4
But we see to God.
Speaker 4
We develop strength enough, strength with me.
Presenter
Part of the Maria Marta Gratiae from Foray's Requiem sung by the Cambridge singers with members of the City of London Sinfonia conducted by John Rutter, and the kind of music, Bernard Cornwell, that your adoptive parents had a deep distaste for, so that's why you like it, is that right?
Bernard Cornwell
I think it's absolutely true that they they absolutely disliked what we'd call smells and bells. They disliked any high church. The peculiar people, for that was what the sect was called, peculiar people chapels were very plain. I mean, in my memory, they're very ugly.
Presenter
Um
Speaker 4
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
I remember my father taking me to Raleigh in Essex. I was about seven years old, and there was a and there still is a memorial in the High Street.
Bernard Cornwell
Two, I think three Protestant martyrs who were burnt by by Queen Mary.
Bernard Cornwell
And he very solemnly told me.
Bernard Cornwell
But one day he said they're going to burn me here.
Bernard Cornwell
I mean it's quite shocking sort of news and and
Presenter
Boop.
Bernard Cornwell
He believed that the the forces of the Pope would join with the forces of the Communists, and there would be this sort of Moscow Rome axis. It had only one aim, which is to extirpate true Protestantism from Britain. So I was brought up to hate the Catholic Church and to hate its liturgy and to hate its uh decorations.
Presenter
Peculiar as in strange people.
Bernard Cornwell
As in separate.
Presenter
As in separate
Bernard Cornwell
It's from Deuteronomy: I will make thee unto me a peculiar people, which just means separate.
Presenter
Mm.
Bernard Cornwell
And in many ways they tried very hard to keep us separate from sinful influences.
Presenter
Yeah.
Presenter
So, how I mean, how did this affect daily life? What was it like living with them?
Bernard Cornwell
I don't remember it fondly, which is sad, because in fact they were actually very good people. But.
Presenter
But
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, they were good people.
Presenter
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
As fundamentalist Christians often are, they're honest, they're painfully honest, they work to be honest. And as as my real mother said when she saw them, when they came to pick me up for adoption, she said I could see they weren't cuddly.
Bernard Cornwell
And and she was right, they weren't cuddly. But that's you know, I mean, that that's fine. Why should they be cuddly? What my father wanted above all was to save my soul.
Bernard Cornwell
He wanted me to be a born-again Christian.
Presenter
And how was that supposed to happen?
Bernard Cornwell
It was to happen by a process called conversion. Lots of people must have gone through this, where you go to a sort of fundamentalist church and there's a mercy seat at the front, and then the preacher urges you to come forward and give your heart to Jesus. And when it did, something magical happened. It was never really described what this thing was, except it was a sort of a
Bernard Cornwell
Right.
Bernard Cornwell
Epiphany
Bernard Cornwell
And suddenly you'd be happy and your troubles would sort of would would would all roll away, like, you know, pilgrim when he gets to the end of pilgrim's progress.
Bernard Cornwell
Um
Bernard Cornwell
And it never happened.
Bernard Cornwell
I always wanted it. I mean, I always wanted to have this miraculous experience that would.
Presenter
But you'd want it presumably out of fear, would you?
Bernard Cornwell
I think so. It's a it was a very Old Testament religion.
Bernard Cornwell
God was would would punish you.
Presenter
So hell and damnation was where you were destined if you didn't feel the hand of God, as it were.
Bernard Cornwell
If you didn't feel it.
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, yes, you were going to hell, straight to hell. And and my parents, God bless them, believed this, believed this utterly, that they were going to go to heaven and and unless I was converted.
Presenter
Um
Presenter
Uh
Bernard Cornwell
I was gonna go to hell.
Presenter
There were five of you. They adopted five children altogether, didn't they? I mean, uh attempting to save the souls of all of them perhaps was part of the object of adoption.
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
I think it was. I think it very much was, certainly on my father's side. I think that he really did see himself as saving souls for Jesus. And I suspect, looking at the five of us, his strike rate was one in five.
Presenter
But did you always feel
Presenter
A misfit in in the midst of all of this? Or were you, as you've described, in a sense, trying to fit?
Bernard Cornwell
I was trying to fit and didn't. It was just one of those tragic adoptions where you simply don't fit. And I I certainly fretted under the the prohibitions and there were an awful lot of prohibitions. I mean for for a long, long time, for most of my childhood there was no television. And I was beaten once for reading the wrong kind of book. Um you know there were no cosmetics, no alcohol, no tobacco, no cinema. It just went on. Anything that might expose you to a sinful world was kept away from you in the hope of course that you'd grow up straight and true.
Presenter
No alcohol.
Presenter
And you did.
Bernard Cornwell
And I did, so.
Presenter
Tell me about record number two.
Bernard Cornwell
Well, record number two is is a lovely song by Alison Krause, and it's from the the film O Brother, Where Art Thou. This is my nod towards fundamentalist Christianity. I couldn't bear to be on my desert island listening to sort of Jesus Wants Be for a Sunbeam, but I love this song, which is Down in the River to Pray.
Speaker 4
As I went down in the river to pray, Studying about that good old way, And who shall wear a starry crown, Good Lord, show me the way.
Speaker 4
Oh sisters, let's go down, let's go down, come on down.
Speaker 4
Oh sisters, let's go down, down in the river too.
Bernard Cornwell
Uh
Presenter
Alison Krause and Down to the River to Pray from the film O Brother, Where Art Thou. A saving grace for you, Bernard, it seems, was that you were sent away from school. Joe and Marjory Wiggins obviously had some money and could do that.
Bernard Cornwell
Yes. I mean, Joe was a builder. I mean, his ambition was to concrete over South East Essex, in which he was largely successful. And he disliked the local state schools because they weren't religious enough. And so he sought out boarding schools for me which would be evangelical and would sort of keep me on the the straight and narrow.
Presenter
But did being away at school mean you could lead a kind of more normal
Bernard Cornwell
Exactly. It was a more normal life. And the Peculiars had a distrust of education. They valued education.
Bernard Cornwell
But they hated the sophistication that went with it. But it but it was even awkward at school, because one of the things of growing up with the peculiar people is you'd never seen a film, you'd never seen a comic, you'd never played cards, you you simply did not share the same sort of cultural references that other people and you felt an outsider, I mean you were a rather strange beast. I remember when I was at my prep school about the age of eight, I must have written home and said that they'd served us black pudding for breakfast. Well, the next thing that happened is my father wrote to the headmaster and said that Leviticus forbade the eating of blood. So in future Bernard was not to be given blood pudding. To this day, of course, I'm extraordinarily fond of blood pudding and eat it at every possible occasion. But the headmaster left this letter lying around. So the next thing is the whole school knows that for religious reasons I'm not to get blood pudding.
Presenter
You are
Presenter
What happened is my
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah. Uh
Presenter
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
You know, which it doesn't actually make for a particularly happy, but that was fine. We saw that.
Presenter
But at some point during all of this there was a huge showdown with your mother, wasn't there?
Bernard Cornwell
There was a that was quite late, yes, when I was about to leave secondary school. I was growing my hair in rebellion and I think hipster jeans had just come in and she hit the roof and and tried to hit me. By this time I'm too big to be hit and I'm holding her hand so she can't hit me and she's screaming for Joe to come and carry on the assault and I thought to hell with this and walked out.
Presenter
Did you ever were you ever reconciled in your mother?
Bernard Cornwell
I don't think she really liked me. I mean, I remember my mother when I was seven saying, I wish we hadn't adopted you, which was a sort of a big clue And I don't blame her. You know, I mean, this is one again, something from adoption. There are people we just don't like in life and there are other people we do like and
Presenter
Did you like her?
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah.
Presenter
Hmm.
Bernard Cornwell
No. Um
Bernard Cornwell
And again, which is sad. I look back at it and I see the whole adoption as a very sad thing.
Bernard Cornwell
Auden said something very lovely. He said that childhood is a trap and growing up is learning the nature of the trap. Well, my trap was fundamentalist religion, um which simply did not
Bernard Cornwell
Sit with me. I mean, I equipped myself to fight fundamentalist religion and then discovered there was no enemy.
Presenter
You equipped yourself by studying theology.
Bernard Cornwell
You equipped yourself
Bernard Cornwell
By studying theology, yes.
Presenter
Is that why you did it?
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, absolutely.
Presenter
And was there a single moment when you felt that liberation?
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, I actually at last I got converted. It was a m a marvellous moment. Everything they said about it was true. The liberating influence of conversion was true. But there was one big difference. I woke up one morning and I suddenly had the absolute conviction that it was all rubbish.
Bernard Cornwell
There was no God, there was no salvation, there was I mean, the whole of this Christian fundamentalist message was untrue, and I've been happy ever since. And it really was exactly what they said it was, but it was a mirror image.
Bernard Cornwell
Record number three. Record number three is Van Morrison. It's a track from Astral Weeks, Madam George, and we're jumping ahead just a little, but.
Bernard Cornwell
After a time I'm going to find myself in Belfast, and I remember the first summer living in Belfast. It seemed to me that every street you walked down you heard astral weeks, and so it's a happy memory of that lovely city.
Speaker 4
Down the Side Miss Avenue
Speaker 4
With a childlike vision sweeping into view
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah.
Speaker 4
Clicking clacking of a high heel shoe
Speaker 4
Fraud and Fitzroy Madam George
Presenter
Van Morrison and Madam George. So you studied theology, Bernard, you taught for a while and then in the early seventies you got into television apparently by accident.
Bernard Cornwell
It was purely by accident and I mean it should never have been allowed. I went to a pub where a man called Frank Dale, who you will remember, also drank, and he told me one day that there was a vacancy on Nationwide. And so I phoned up and I got a an appointment with the editor. And he was explaining to me that there was no job when the phone went and it turned out that Warren Mitchell was with a um film crew in Oxford and the director hadn't turned up and and Michael the editor plainly hadn't taken a blind bit of notice of who I was and he said, Can you direct?
Bernard Cornwell
And I said yes, I'd never even seen a camera. And so I found myself on a train to Oxford with a three-day contract in my pocket.
Presenter
Hmm.
Bernard Cornwell
And that three-day contract lasted ten years.
Presenter
But you you did turn out to be very good at it. I mean, as as you say, we were together on nationwide, and you were known to be very creative. It's interesting that you took to it very naturally, didn't you?
Bernard Cornwell
Well, it was fun, yes, and and and I'm sure it had an awful lot to do with the fact that, you know, the peculiars didn't approve of television. And here I was, you know, I was in the enemy fortress doing it, and it was great.
Presenter
No, I was in the enemy fort.
Presenter
But we all knew you in television then as Bernard Wiggins, son of Marjorie and Joe, and we heard about the peculiar people and and knew your background. Um but then suddenly when you became an author you became Bernard Cornwell. So where did that come from?
Bernard Cornwell
That was the the name on my first birth on my real birth certificate. My mother's name was Cornwell, and then when I was adopted it was changed to Wiggins, and I've now legally changed it back again to Cornwell.
Presenter
More elegant name, I suppose, one
Bernard Cornwell
Well, it's not only is it I think I mean Wiggins is not a particularly euphonic name, Cornwall is is much nicer, but also somebody advised me when I began to write that books are put on the bookshop shelves alphabetically, and if your name begins with W, you're very likely to be bottom right-hand corner where the spiders are. Hasn't hurt Thomas Wolfe, but um C is more likely to be at I level. I passed this advice on.
Presenter
Record number four.
Bernard Cornwell
Well record number four is is is really a record about exile and and it's about Judy, my American wife, and it's the song that that sort of haunted us in our courtship, and um it's Judy Collins, My Father.
Speaker 4
My father always promised us that we would live in France.
Speaker 4
We'd go boarding on the sand
Speaker 4
And I would learn to dance.
Presenter
We live in all
Presenter
Judy Collins and My Father. So, Bernard, you sat down at your typewriter in nineteen seventy nine and set about writing your first book about Richard Sharp, who served Wellington as a rifleman. You said earlier on you didn't know how to write a book, you'd never written a book. You begin at the beginning. Do you make a plan? What do you do?
Bernard Cornwell
I took two or three books of which I was very fond, I mean there was a couple of hornblows, and I literally broke them down and I made these huge coloured charts which tragically I've lost and and it was literally paragraph by paragraph what's going on in this book? I mean when where is their flashback, where is their action, where is their romance, where's their dialogue and so on. And I thought well the things I don't like in these books are these in blue and I'll take those out or shrink them and the things I do like are red. I
Bernard Cornwell
So I basically made a plan, if you like, or I disassembled a couple of books. And I always wonder why people who want to write books don't do this, because it's you know, you go and find a book that you really like, that is selling well.
Bernard Cornwell
Find out how the author did it is uh so that's what I did.
Presenter
So that's
Presenter
And how quickly were they taken up? Or was that first one taken up? Sharp's eagle.
Bernard Cornwell
Sharp's Eagle was taken up very quickly, and I was very, very fortunate. I got one rejection from someone who said that that no one wants to read about the British Army, and I s still see that guy from time to time.
Presenter
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
And then I'm I I was very fortunate because I had an offer from a publisher in Britain, which I knew was not enough. And by this time, you know, true love working, it's it's it's fell purpose. I was living in New Jersey and I needed money to go on living in New Jersey. I mean, if I couldn't get it, I'd have to go back to Britain and get a proper job.
Bernard Cornwell
We were invited into a a party on Thanksgiving Day in New York, and I was standing on the balcony of this this this apartment, and the McDonald's All America High School Band was high stepping underneath, playing selections from Oklahoma.
Bernard Cornwell
And a very English voice said behind me, They do this sort of thing frightfully well, don't they? So I I turned round, and being a brilliant conversationist said, Oh, you're English? Yes, he said. I said, What do you do? He said, I'm a literary agent.
Bernard Cornwell
And I said,'Oh, good I've just written a novel' whereupon he he said one word unrepeatable, turned round, and walked away.
Speaker 4
Uh
Speaker 4
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
So I followed him into into the room.
Bernard Cornwell
Went on my knees and said, Please, please read the novel. And he phoned me up that evening and said, How much money do you want? And within a week,
Presenter
Ali
Bernard Cornwell
He'd not only got me that money, he got me a seven book contract.
Presenter
Seven book
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, I I walk straight into a seven-book conversation.
Presenter
So the dream came true in that sense, you got
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, I mean it did.
Presenter
Um you have quite a lot in in common, of course, with Schott. For a start you're both orphans. You gave him a sort of blank slate of a background, didn't you?
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, I like that, Blank Slate, because I I used to rather like that in myself. I felt I was not in any way constrained by family expectations. So yes, Sharpe is an orphan. I I'm not sure how much else there is in common.
Presenter
Well, he's got that bitterness. And I was noticing actually when I was reading, I can't remember which one it was. He murders the the rather Dickensian character who in the orphanage where he was brought up, doesn't he?
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, he does, yes. But that man does not stand in for anybody in my childhood.
Presenter
No, but there's a sort of resonance there. Yeah, there is a resonance, yes, of course there is. Avenging something or other.
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, there is a reference, yes, of course there is, yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
What childhood was for me and probably is for Richard Sharp is a distorting influence.
Speaker 4
Hmm.
Bernard Cornwell
Um
Bernard Cornwell
It it was in the end, in some ways the Peculiar People was a wonderful childhood for his historical novelist who sort of grew up in the seventeenth century.
Presenter
Record number five.
Bernard Cornwell
Well, this is one of my all-time favourites, of course, Over the Hills and Far Away, which was the in fact the song with the rifles in the Napoleonic Wars, and it was much older than that, of course, it came from the The Beggars' Opera by John Gay. But this is the the version sung by John Tams, who played Hagman in the television series and which of course closed every single programme of sharp.
Presenter
That's
Speaker 4
If I should fall to rise no more
Speaker 4
As many comrades did before, they'd ask the five syndromes to play.
Speaker 4
For the hills and farms.
Presenter
Over the Hills and Far Away, arranged and sung by John Tams, the theme tune to the television adaptations of Richard Sharpe's Adventures. What people love about the books, as I said in the introduction, Bernard, is their the authenticity of the detail, you know, the how the the smell of rotten eggs when when the muskets are fired and the s deadly baker rifles is on this forming a square so that the To keep the dragoons at bay. Was that all in your head because you'd it had been your hobby as a boy, or did you have to do lots more research?
Bernard Cornwell
Oh, I had to do lots more research, but an enormous amount was in my head, and there are some wonderful d diaries and memoirs by the soldiers in that war.
Presenter
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah.
Presenter
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
Which all had to be read. But of course, this was not a job. This was a pleasure to do. It still is to this day.
Presenter
Mm.
Presenter
Yeah.
Presenter
And you don't spare us the the detail of the squalor and the violence. Actually, I do. Do you? Yes.
Bernard Cornwell
Actually, I do. Do you think that's a good question?
Bernard Cornwell
It gets much, much worse. And I and I think there comes a point where people probably don't want it to be much, much worse.
Presenter
I'm just thinking about the opening chapter of another of your books, a non-sharp one, a gallows thief.
Bernard Cornwell
I'm just thinking
Presenter
Which is a g a description of of a a young girl being dragged to the gallows for a public hanging. I mean it's just it's horri it's pretty horrendous.
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah, in 18 and I that chapter is probably the one that I've researched most closely of of all the books. It's an execution at Newgate in 1817. And it was barbaric. It was absolutely barbaric. But it all happened exactly like that.
Presenter
But it's the bribing of the hangman, isn't it, to make it quick, and if you don't give him something, he makes it slow.
Bernard Cornwell
Mm-hmm.
Bernard Cornwell
He can make it slow, yes, and and and usually give him a guinea and then he'd go underneath the scaffold and hang on your legs just to sort of because you did there was no long drop. This is a very gory subject, isn't it? There was no long drop which killed you instantly, it was a short drop.
Bernard Cornwell
I guess I don't really write t terribly sort of gentle books, do I? No, you do. There are some dreadful things that go on. Believe me, I do actually do do pool my punches quite considerably.
Speaker 4
Uh
Presenter
No, you didn't.
Presenter
But it's all all grist to the Cornwell Mill. Sharp has fought through twenty battles now. He's a sort of um career soldier. Does he get to hang up his rifle at some point, or does he get to die?
Bernard Cornwell
Um he's gonna die of old age.
Presenter
How old is he now, then?
Bernard Cornwell
Gosh, well at the end of the wars he's he he was
Bernard Cornwell
I wish you hadn't asked me that question. He must be in his late thirties at work at the end of the day.
Presenter
Do you keep a card index on all this, like they do of the archers? I mean, do you know exactly who said what to whom and what the relationships are?
Bernard Cornwell
I wish I had. I mean, I if I'd if I'd known that there were going to be this many books and that it was going to sort of
Bernard Cornwell
Just be so complicated. I would have done, but I never did.
Presenter
But he dies of old age not on the battlefield.
Bernard Cornwell
I am very grateful to Sharp.
Presenter
Oh, uh oh I'm sure you are.
Presenter
Record number six.
Bernard Cornwell
Well, record number six is is is the the flower duet from Delib Lachme, and simply because this is the British Airways' signature tune. And and Judy and I both love to travel and come to England an enormous amount. And if I'm on my desert island every time I hear this I will think of those theatre visits to London and all the good times that we've been travelling.
Speaker 4
Uh
Speaker 4
I did whose eyelids.
Presenter
Part of the Flower Duet from Delibes Lacmei, with Mary Plazas as Lacme and Diana Montague as Malika, with the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by David Parry.
Presenter
Then two years ago, Bernard Cornwall, aged fifty eight, and then a secure, successful novelist in a happy marriage, you decided at last to track down your real father. Can you explain the motivation? Was it simple curiosity? Because you'd been enjoying this blank slate of yours, as you say, or was it something deeper than that?
Bernard Cornwell
I don't think it was deep, but I think it is simple curiosity. And you found him in the
Presenter
And you found him in the end in Canada. How did you know to look there?
Bernard Cornwell
How did you know to look there? Um because when I was ten or eleven my father had left his safe open one one evening and I was walking past his study and I saw it was open and I dived in. I'm sure I was after five pound notes and didn't find them. What I did find was a piece of paper with my real parents' names written on it.
Bernard Cornwell
And I copied it out and I kept that piece of paper for years.
Presenter
So you knew you were a product of a a local London girl and a Canadian.
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah.
Bernard Cornwell
And a Canadian called William Outridge, yeah. And then two years ago and I thought, Well, if they're still alive, they're over eighty. I don't need parents any longer. You know, I I I'm past all that. I'm quite happy, I'm secure, I don't need them, now is the time to actually find them. So I wrote to him.
Bernard Cornwell
And Sarah, if you don't want to meet me, that's fine.
Presenter
And were you a skeleton in his cupboard?
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, very, very much so. William had never told anybody about me. He knew about me. He knew that Dorothy was pregnant, and he went back to Canada. He married very, very happily, had a very, very successful marriage, had three children. His wife sadly died ten years ago.
Presenter
So it was just a brief affair with your marriage. It was a seven-month affair. Even though he knew she was pregnant, he moved on.
Bernard Cornwell
It was a seven-month affair.
Bernard Cornwell
I'm afraid so. Yes.
Presenter
So it was quite big of him to agree to meet you in the second.
Bernard Cornwell
I think it was. And and it was very weird at fifty eight to suddenly find people who laugh the same way that you did and sort of scratch the same way.
Presenter
Really, same mannerisms.
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, and I look very like him. I look more like him than his other kids. And yes, and I'm imagining
Presenter
Wait a moment. I mean, what what
Bernard Cornwell
It was. It was more than I expected. It was much more. I mean, I told myself I was doing this out of curiosity only. And then, of course, it became much, much more because.
Bernard Cornwell
It became much more emotional. I can remember.
Bernard Cornwell
standing outside his his apartment, looking in on this very happy family, which I had suddenly been welcomed into and welcomed with open arms.
Bernard Cornwell
And and thinking of my adopted mother and thinking, Gotcha.
Presenter
Oh really, why?
Bernard Cornwell
I don't know, it's terrible, isn't it? But just thinking that and thinking, you know, this this was what I was born to, not you.
Bernard Cornwell
and thinking how different it would have been had I been brought up in that family.
Presenter
And then last year, a year after you'd found your father, you found your mother.
Bernard Cornwell
I found my Dorothy, yes.
Presenter
Dorothy in in the London suburbs. Interestingly, she had known you, Bernard Cornwell, the successful novelist, was her son, hadn't she?
Bernard Cornwell
Yes, Dorothy loves historical novels. I mean the odd thing was walking into D Dorothy's flat and and seeing everywhere, I mean triple stacked were historical novels. And a very different kettle of fish to to my father. I mean Dor Dorothy's had a very tough life. Um she's a very tough lady. And she'd had four other sons other than me. She hadn't told any of her kids about me, or indeed any of her brothers or sisters.
Bernard Cornwell
But about all
Bernard Cornwell
Sixteen, seventeen years ago she saw the name Bernard Cornwall on the spine of a book, and I remember that she had registered my birth as Bernard Cornwall. She opens the book, and on the back flap there is a photograph of me, looking exactly like
Bernard Cornwell
the man with whom she'd had an affair.
Presenter
But why when she saw your name on that book, as you say, sixteen or seventeen years ago, why why didn't she get in touch?
Bernard Cornwell
I don't know. I and I wish she had. I really wish she had. She told me that she she didn't want me to think that she was after me money.
Presenter
Hmm.
Bernard Cornwell
So she didn't she didn't get in touch with me and as I say it was only last year we met.
Presenter
And when you did.
Presenter
Well, that must have been quite a moment.
Bernard Cornwell
That was also quite a moment, yes and where I look like my father, I think I get a lot of my character from Dorothy.
Presenter
But let me ask you a very biased female mother's question. Was there something more emotional about meeting your mother? Perhaps particularly in your case, because she was the the woman who'd who'd borne you, given birth to you, who'd nursed you for a couple of weeks before she had to give you away? I mean, your father.
Presenter
I just gone, hadn't he?
Bernard Cornwell
Is he just gone?
Bernard Cornwell
There again, I mean
Bernard Cornwell
I can remember thinking, it would have been so nice if you'd kept me and she wanted to keep me and and her mother wanted her to keep me. It was her father who who really insisted that she put me away.
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah. I mean, I think I'd again, I would have been much happier if I'd have been brought up by Dorothy.
Presenter
I quote number seven.
Bernard Cornwell
Well record number seven is is part of the Benedictus from Mozart's Requiem and I can remember years ago, in I was very young, hearing Mozart's Requiem and being swept away, and I still am swept away.
Speaker 4
Holy nerves.
Presenter
Part of the Benedictus from Mozart's Requiem, sung by Wilmer Lipp, Hilda Rossel, Maidan, Anton de Motte, Walter Berry, and the Berlin Philharmonic, conducted by Herbert von Karrion at least they weren't singing, but they were playing it.
Presenter
This is the moment, Bernard, when we uh push you over the side and you swim for that desert island. Are you going to manage there by yourself, do you think?
Bernard Cornwell
Actually I think I will.
Presenter
Really?
Bernard Cornwell
Yes. I mean, well, remember, first I'm a writer, so I quite like my own company. I mean, I know I'll build a shelter. I'll rather enjoy that.
Presenter
Sharpwood, of course. Sharp would fashion the sword. You would sort of slice a skunk and fry it on the half coconut shell or something, wouldn't you?
Bernard Cornwell
I'm I'm sure he would. Yes, he'd he'd be very impressive. So I'd do my best to emulate him. So I think, yes, I'd rather like a desert island.
Presenter
Yeah.
Presenter
And no bitterness, no regrets, as you said there. Finding your your parents and
Bernard Cornwell
Thank you.
Presenter
Oh
Bernard Cornwell
Yeah, I mean it that that all went a long, long long time ago.
Presenter
Hm. You're very lucky, aren't you? You've been very lucky.
Bernard Cornwell
I've been very, very lucky. I mean, I've been extraordinarily lucky. I mean, meeting Judy and then doing what I've always wanted to do, which is to write. And I've been doing it now for twenty five years. I still do it.
Bernard Cornwell
and I can't think of anything I'd rather do.
Presenter
Last rate.
Bernard Cornwell
Well the last record is is really a tribute to the States. And one of the most wonderful romantic things I think about America is driving down the long interstates, seeing those wonderful romantic names, you know, Amarilla or Memphis. And there's only one thing you can have on the radio as you drive the interstates and that's Country and Western. So this is one of my absolute favourites. It's Willie Nelson and it's Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys, which is very good advice.
Speaker 4
My heroes have always been cowboys.
Speaker 4
They still are seen.
Speaker 4
Sadly in search of
Speaker 4
One step and back of themselves
Speaker 4
And there's no approving.
Presenter
Willie Nelson and Mamma don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys. If you could only take one of those eight records, Bernard, which one would you take?
Bernard Cornwell
Oh, it's going to be Mozart's Requiem.
Presenter
Hmm.
Bernard Cornwell
No hesitation at all.
Presenter
And then you get to take a book. We give you the complete works of Shakespeare. We give you the Bible, but I dare say you don't want it.
Bernard Cornwell
There were firelighters.
Presenter
Si cómo siopo.
Bernard Cornwell
My book is is A Glastonbury Romance by John Cooper Powers, and it's full of an exquisite sensibility and and I've never really given it the time it deserves, so I want to take that.
Presenter
And what about your luxury?
Bernard Cornwell
Well, my luxury I want to take my boat. Are you going to let me?
Presenter
Depends what you're gonna do. And if you go round in circles, round and round the alignment.
Bernard Cornwell
I can go around if I promise not to sort of go outside the lagoon. And and but I love my boat is wonderful and and I want to take my boat so that I can sail.
Presenter
Yeah.
Presenter
Are you as trustworthy as Richard Sharp, in which case you can't have it?
Bernard Cornwell
And a promise to be trustworthy.
Presenter
I think
Presenter
Bernard Cornwell, thank you very much indeed for letting us hear your desert island discs.
Bernard Cornwell
Thank you.
Speaker 3
You've been listening to a podcast from the Desert Islandists archive. For more podcasts, please visit bbc.co.uk slash radio four.
Presenter asks
Did you always feel a misfit in in the midst of all of this? Or were you, as you've described, in a sense, trying to fit?
I was trying to fit and didn't. It was just one of those tragic adoptions where you simply don't fit. And I I certainly fretted under the the prohibitions and there were an awful lot of prohibitions. I mean for for a long, long time, for most of my childhood there was no television. And I was beaten once for reading the wrong kind of book. Um you know there were no cosmetics, no alcohol, no tobacco, no cinema. It just went on.
Presenter asks
Was there a single moment when you felt that liberation [from fundamentalist religion]?
Yes, I actually at last I got converted. It was a m a marvellous moment. Everything they said about it was true. The liberating influence of conversion was true. But there was one big difference. I woke up one morning and I suddenly had the absolute conviction that it was all rubbish. There was no God, there was no salvation, there was I mean, the whole of this Christian fundamentalist message was untrue, and I've been happy ever since.
Presenter asks
Can you explain the motivation [to track down your real father]? Was it simple curiosity?
I don't think it was deep, but I think it is simple curiosity ... when I was ten or eleven my father had left his safe open one one evening and I was walking past his study and I saw it was open and I dived in ... What I did find was a piece of paper with my real parents' names written on it. And I copied it out and I kept that piece of paper for years.
Presenter asks
Why when she saw your name on that book, as you say, sixteen or seventeen years ago, why why didn't [your mother] get in touch?
I don't know. I and I wish she had. I really wish she had. She told me that she she didn't want me to think that she was after me money. So she didn't she didn't get in touch with me and as I say it was only last year we met.
“I'd always wanted to write. I mean, I'd always had the idea that it was better than working, which has actually turned out to be entirely true.”
“I woke up one morning and I suddenly had the absolute conviction that it was all rubbish. There was no God, there was no salvation, there was I mean, the whole of this Christian fundamentalist message was untrue, and I've been happy ever since.”
“I look very like him. I look more like him than his other kids ... I can remember standing outside his his apartment, looking in on this very happy family, which I had suddenly been welcomed into and welcomed with open arms. And and thinking of my adopted mother and thinking, Gotcha.”