How the Hydrangea paniculata was (re)discovered in a Belgian garden.

“Every time we visited an old garden we were greeted by hydrangeas. At the very back of our garden was a row of panicled hydrangeas, the well-known ‘sheep’s heads’ of the Hydrangea paniculata ‘Grandiflora’. They were survivors from the old nursery. This variety was very popular at the beginning of this century, the 20th century. We discovered another panicled hydrangea nearby, buried under a lush Akebia. This was a Hydrangea paniculata ‘Floribunda’ and had been introduced by the Russian botanist Carl Maximowicz via Saint Petersburg. He had bought the plant in a Japanese nursery at the end of the 19th century. The outer flowers were slightly larger than on other panicled hydrangeas. I never spotted this improved version anywhere else. It was probably supplanted by the familiar Hydrangea paniculata ‘Grandiflora’ which became so popular in the West. After all, people often strive for bigger and more ostentatious until they finally get enough of it. Dahlias, chrysanthemums, the Hydrangea macrophylla, carnations and yes, even vegetables are other examples of this. The sophistication of the austere and simple seems to elude many people.

Hydrangea paniculata ‘Floribunda’ is a large shrub with sturdy branches and long-lasting flower heads. The flowers turn pink in the autumn sun. I was so enthusiastic about it that I couldn’t resist collecting some of its seeds. The seed- and growing beds were close to the house so that I could take care of these little ones in addition to my two children, Danny and Diane. Hundreds of little packets of seeds, each one meticulously labelled and registered, were entrusted to the earth. Fortunately, not all of them germinated, thanks to a harsh winter. We spent a lot of time in those seedbeds, my husband and I, and it became something of a family joke. Our son, then about three or four years old, once said on the phone: ‘Mum and Dad are not here; they are sowing in the bed.’ It was 1958. It turned into a disaster. We had lots of seedlings, but things went wrong one hot, dry day. We had watered the beds before breakfast, but when we passed by the planting beds after breakfast, we couldn’t believe our eyes. In search of worms in the damp earth, a bird had disturbed everything. The tiny seedlings were completely dehydrated, their roots exposed. Only one, a little larger than the rest, had a chance of surviving. I was angry and wanted to remove the label: a year’s worth of effort for a single seedling! After all, there is no point in breeding from a single plant. The greater the number of seedlings, the greater the chance of interesting new varieties, that was the whole point. What to do? ‘Give this only survivor a chance,’ was my husband’s opinion. It ‘only’ grew into a very beautiful plant. We named it ‘Unique’. Nurseries from Belgium, France, England, the Netherlands and eventually Germany asked for cuttings of this unique Unique. Unique challenged the monopoly of the paniculata.

Hydrangea paniculata produced four generations in almost forty years, including many valuable newcomers. Some are hefty and elegant but will never reach the top ten or be sold in garden centres. Their flower heads are too heavy for their thin stems, which makes container transport difficult. The risk of them breaking is too high. In England they are called the aristocrats of the panicled hydrangeas. They must be sown in the nursery. There are also varieties with sturdy branches that colour beautifully in the autumn. It makes a good garden plant and the flower heads are also suitable for a vase or for bouquets of dried flowers. They are much appreciated for their long flowering season. They are already popular in Japan, America and Europe, thanks above all to their hardiness and the fact that they are suitable for a continental climate.”