For whom the fairy bells toll

Sometimes unfairly dismissed as ugly, edible wood sorrel, once known as fairy bells, is not only blessed with pretty white flowers, it’s also capable of predicting rain, says John Wright

- John Wright

IT is generally possible to judge people’s fondness for, or familiarity with, a plant by the number of names it has accumulated over the years. For example, that tiny denizen of the cracks between paving stones, procumbent pearlwort, seen, but unnoticed by people every day, has only four local names, whereas wood sorrel has about 100. It is a delicate beauty in leaf and a glorious one when in white flower. It is also edible. No wonder, then, that people know and love it.

Wood sorrel is one of the trefoil plants that has been accepted as the shamrock, the plant that St Patrick used to teach the Irish peoples the meaning of the Trinity. Incidentally, anyone who knows their Christian theology will understand that St Patrick’s explanation was bound to be heretical—the Trinity is ineffable. In Victorian times, wood sorrel was considered the most likely contender for the shamrock, owing to the understanding that white clover was absent from Ireland at that time. A knock-down argument were it true, but it was not. White clover is now the front runner, although wood sorrel still has its champions, with poetry coming, perhaps, to the rescue.

Indeed, the number of poems written about a plant is another fine indicator of its popularity. A cursory search of Victorian newspapers found a substantial five about wood sorrel, plus one hymn and a very grim song. A few lines of verse from The Irish