by Mayukh Ghosh
The 1916 Wisden is usually one of the hardest to get. The war years meant there were not many copies published and those few copies have always been in great demand.
In the latest Knights auction an original hardback was sold for £2400 and it has been sold for more in the past.
The other big reason for the demand is that it contained three special obituaries.
W.G. Grace, Victor Trumper and Andrew Stoddart.
100 years later, to mark the centenary, a plethora of books on Grace were published. There was widespread discussion on Trumper in Australia and in a seminar high quality papers were published on the life of Trumper.
Nothing really on Stoddart. Except a book by usual suspect David Frith.
In these 100 years, Stoddart's name has faded away from the memory of the cricket aficionados.
Was it partially due to the rather unceremonious end?
He averaged 47 in his last full season in 1898.
And then slowly faded away over the next two seasons.
Afterwards, his only cricket related activity was being at Lord's to watch the odd matches and to attend the dinners.
He remained confined in his house and many an onlooker saw him gaze out of the window for hours.
He probably could never accept a life devoid of the cricket.
The usual demon invaded his sanity and he was seldom visible without a glass of whisky in hand.
He struggled for a few years, along with his newly married wife Ethel.
In 1914, four of his cricket colleagues died, most notably among them was Albert Trott who committed suicide.
And in the same year his brother Harry died in America.
His marriage was not working and his mental state helped it deteriorate.
The finances were dwindling as well and he knew no way to get himself out of the dismal situation.
By April 1915, he knew his days were over.
April 3.
Easter Sunday.
In the evening he, completely dejected and tired, he brought out a pistol from his pocket to end his suffering.
Ethel tried to pacify him and eventually succeeded. She held the box of cartridges and thought there was no way Stoddy could inflict any harm on himself.
At the stroke of midnight she went back to his room.
Just to check if he was all right.
But there he was. On his bed. With a pistol in his hand.
And there was blood trickling down his cheek.
A second box of cartridges was there. Ethel was not aware of its existence.
The inquest declared it as a 'suicide while of unsound mind'. It was also found that there were signs of impending pneumonia.
Thus ended the life of 'England's Finest Sportsman'.
On April 4, 1915, his misery was finally over.
Are there many who still think of the Stoddart obituary as one the USPs of Wisden 1916?