Bill Bestwick

In the course of my interviews with the late Walter Goodyear for my second book, the legendary former groundsman told me that he had met Bill Bestwick in his later years, when the former county stalwart had a flat overlooking the County Ground in Derby. The thought of being associated with one man in nineteenth century cricket has stayed with me, just as the stories Walter told me will always remain.

I’ve always felt that if a film were ever made about the life of a Derbyshire-born player, Bestwick would be the likely subject. If it had been done a few years ago I would have always seen Alan Bates, a Derby man himself and a great actor, as perfect for the role as the ‘bad boy of Derbyshire cricket’. Because Bill, despite all his talents on a cricket field, was an alcoholic and caused a lot of problems.

I’m so glad to hear that Mick Pope’s biography of the player will see the light of day next year, because it’s a story worth telling in its entirety, or in every gory detail, if you like.

He was a great bowler and, as described by former county secretary Will Taylor, ‘a big-hearted and very pleasant individual, a great trier – but he had his faults, as many of us have, and he, through his thirst, gave us some very difficult moments’. Years later, Derbyshire all-rounder Les Townsend recalled: ‘I was always afraid of him, but not his bowling. He never let them bounce around your ears, but he was a fine bowler.”

Mick’s book will no doubt tell the many stories of his life in the detail required, but here I want to acknowledge his valuable place in discussions of every great fast bowler in Derbyshire.

He was born in 1875 in Tag Hill, Heanor and was working in the mines by the time he was eleven. Later in life he would say that he never felt tired. “You know, I worked hard as a youngster and then a whole day of bowling in a cricket match feels like nothing.”

He made his county debut in 1898, but continued to work in the pit during the winter as an insurance policy. He developed slowly, like so many others, and was a short run ahead of someone of his pace. In later years it became even shorter, yet he still surprised batsmen with his pace, which was generated by his huge shoulders and physical strength. The photo with this article is one of my favorites and he must have been an impressive sight as he ran in again and again.

In 1900 there were five five-wicket innings, two ten-wicket matches. He increased this to six in 1902, then ten and eleven in 1905 and 1906, in each season he passed a hundred wickets. Good judges considered him a better bowler than Arnold Warren, who had been selected for England, but there were questions about his fielding, which was never good, and his batting, which was even worse. Indeed, in his last 280 first-class innings he failed to reach twenty, his highest tally in his career in 1900.

Yet he was special as a bowler. His captains were able to get him to bowl effectively from one side, almost without any sign of fatigue. He bowled more than 800 overs in a season and was a powerful weapon.

Then it all went wrong. His wife died in 1906, leaving him with a son, Robert, and the drinking became worse. In 1907 he was charged with manslaughter after a Heanor man, William Brown, attacked him with a carving knife, following a pub brawl at the Jolly Colliers Inn there. Brown was later found dead from “severing the major blood vessel in the neck.” Bestwick only learned of it when he was being treated for cuts and lacerations to the face at his brother’s nearby home. The report in the Derbyshire Advertiser of 1 February 1907 makes gripping reading, but it seems clear that the verdict of ‘justifiable homicide’ was correct. Bestwick acted in self-defense after he was attacked and punched in the face and hands by a man who wrongly felt he was having an affair with his wife.

In 1909, tired of his excesses despite 178 wickets in the two previous seasons, Derbyshire discontinued his services. A fresh start was needed and after a brief spell as a professional with Nelson in the Lancashire League, which was ended prematurely due to a breach of discipline, Billy went to South Wales, where he remarried and worked in the mines, playing for Glamorgan in the Minor Counties in 1914.

That should have been the end of the story, but in 1919 he was invited to return to Derbyshire, where there was a shortage of cricketers after the Great War. He took 90 wickets but then returned to play for Glamorgan in 1920, before agreeing to another return to Derbyshire in 1921.

He was 46 when the 1921 season began. By the end, thanks to sheer physical strength and considerable skill, he had taken 147 wickets and bowled more than 900 overs. Seventeen times he took five wickets in an innings, which is still and probably always will be a county record. Against Glamorgan in Cardiff he took all ten wickets for just forty runs, he and Tommy Mitchell remaining the only men to do so in the club’s rich history.

Despite all this, he was an unreformed character. Arthur Morton was deputed to care for him during the dangerous journeys, but Billy managed to evade him more than once. The match before that was in Bristol and he was incapacitated by a few late night sessions there. He was even considered a doubtful starter at Cardiff, but he declared himself fit and George Buckston, his captain, asked him to open the bowling.

He took a wicket with his fifth ball and bowled seven of his victims clean, taking all ten wickets before lunch in just nineteen overs. While we may not understand the mentality, we can only admire the Constitution that made it possible.

He never changed. The following year he was left out of the Worcester team after another night out, but recovered sufficiently to go into the ground on his own and barrack his own side. That year he again came close to a hundred wickets, as in 1923. Only in his last two seasons did his returns decline, but he was fifty in 1925, had a season’s best of 7-20 and still took his 35 wickets at just fifteen runs each.

He enjoyed the company of his son Robert in the 1922 side, although his spell in the county game was short, lasting only two games. Bill then became a first-class umpire, appearing in 238 matches, including three Tests.

He died on May 2, 1938 at Nottingham General Hospital. Cancer eventually claimed the man with the iron constitution, and tributes from across the country testified to his talent. Only Les Jackson and Cliff Gladwin have exceeded his 1452 wickets for the county. Only Tommy Mitchell and Les Jackson have exceeded his 104 five-wicket hauls. No one is likely to improve on that 10-40 analysis.

He really was that good, but later in life he modestly recalled: ‘I just concentrated on making the batsman play and tried to hit the stumps every time’.

(Image courtesy of David Griffin from the Derbyshire CCC archive)

This piece originally appeared in 2020.