Hydrangeas: More than Just the New England Summer Flowers

One thing is for certain: you can’t get through a summer here in New England without seeing hydrangeas at practically every corner. Not that I’m complaining, necessarily – I love their fluffy blooms, and can’t help but be amazed by the mophead’s ability to change colors dependent on soil pH. Great as these are, there is so much more to hydrangeas than the puffy blue and pink flowers you see at the Cape. Today, let's look at the history of hydrangeas, as well as some interesting varieties and how to care for them.

History of Hydrangeas

There are many different species of hydrangea in cultivation, and even more in the wild, which makes a concise history difficult. Hydrangea macrophylla – the mop-head hydrangea you’re most likely to see in gardens – is indigenous to Japan, where you’re likely to find it growing anywhere from sea-sides to forests. Hydrangeas are hugely important in Japanese culture – there are festivals to celebrate their blooming and they are often used in gardens surrounding Buddhist temples.

Takahata Fudoson is one of the many Japanese Buddhist temples to feature extensive hydrangeas on its grounds. The more than 200 varieties of Hydrangea – as well as its easily-accessible site, make this 8^th century temple a popular site to see the flower in summer. Image courtesy of Time Out Japan.

But Asia is not the only place hydrangeas grow in the wild – some species, such as H. arborescens (Smooth Hydrangea) and H. quercifolia (Oakleaf hydrangea) – are native to the Southeast United States, where they have a history of use in Indigenous communities as a painkiller. Like many other plants native to that region, these were introduced into the British and American horticultural lexicon by none other than John Bartram. In the 1730s, John Bartram, a Quaker from Philadelphia, travelled with his son William throughout Georgia, Tennessee, Florida and the Carolinas, documenting indigenous plants and gathering seeds. He then grew these seeds out at his farm (now Bartram’s Garden), widely considered the first “Botanic Garden” in the United States. This farm passed from William to his daughter, Anne, who started an early nursery – specializing in tropical plants – at the site in the early 19^th century.

While the oakleaf hydrangea remained in the wild – it gained a reputation for being difficult to grow – the smooth hydrangea quickly became popular, with George Washington and Thomas Jefferson both purchasing seeds from Bartram for their gardens at Mount Vernon and Monticello.

William Bartram’s illustration of H. quercifolia, as published in his 1791 Travels. At the time, it was believed this species was too difficult to grow in gardens – Bartram himself likely only got a live specimen later that year. Image courtesy of the John Bartram Foundation.

It was at about this time – some time shortly after 1790 – that Hydrangea macrophylla entered the US trade as well. Although still exceptionally rare, it was cultivated enough in England for William Hamilton – an early plantsman who lived just across the Schuylkill River from the Bartrams – to have one in his garden at The Woodlands by 1800, when John Bartram would describe its flowers as “Celestial blue.”

While both Asian and American hydrangeas started out as only available to the elite, they quickly grew in popularity, becoming a garden staple in the 19^th century. When you think of broader societal trends of this time, the hydrangea really seems like a perfect fit – its loose shape lends itself nicely to the decreasing formality of private estate gardens (think about the transition from parterres to the gardenesque movement to the work of Gertrude Jekyll), and its pH dependent coloring would – of course – be fascinating in a world where science was becoming increasingly well understood. Still, hydrangeas were not popular with everyone – in the 1800s language of flowers, hydrangeas symbolized arrogance and vanity – so much so, that in some circles men would send them to women after being rejected.

Hydrangea (likely macrophylla) in an illustration from the first edition of Gertrude Jekyll’s Color in the Flower Garden (1908). In this arrangement, Jekyll pairs a white hydrangea with a white birch (Betula papyrifera) and a formal evergreen hedge. As Jekyll was significantly blind – she could not see detail far away – this high-contrast planting would have likely appealed to her.

Still, hydrangeas remained a popular garden plant through the 19^th and early 20^th centuries – so much so that by the 1950s, they fell out of favor because they were seen as old-fashioned and fussy. They remained that way – something you’d see more on your grandmother’s teacups than something you’d want in your garden – until the late 1990s, when they were brought back by a distinctly New England name.

According to popular lore, on a 1991 visit to the San Francisco Flower Market, Martha Stewart was drawn to a display of hydrangea on Jerry Bolduan’s booth. She then published a photographic spread on the flower – its breadth of colors and shapes – in her magazine, and the rest is history.

A sample of 1920s wallpaper in the Cooper Hewitt National Design Museum. The hydrangea’s ubiquity in decorative arts of this era was one of the things that led it to falling out of favor in the mid-20^th century.

Some of Our Favorite Hydrangeas

While the common bigleaf hydrangea is great, there’s a whole world of species (and some cultivar) hydrangeas out there just waiting to be explored. Here are some of our favorites here in the Garden at Elm Bank.        

Hydrangea arborescens 'Haas’ Halo' - A favorite of Karen Daubmann, our Director of Garden and Programs, this hydrangea is a go-to if you’re looking to attract pollinators (especially honeybees!) to your garden. It has big white lacecap flowers, blue-green leaves, and will grow to a relatively-compact 3-5' height and spread when mature. Haas’ Halo only blooms on new wood, so be sure to cut stems to 1/3 of their height early in the spring.

H. arborescens 'Haas' Halo', Courtesy Mt Cuba Center

Hydrangea quercifolia – My personal favorite hydrangea, and one I recommend if you’re short-ish on space and need something versatile. Not only does this East Coast native feature white panicle blooms (popular with pollinators!), but also has big, oak-like leaves. Even better, the leaves age like one would expect those of a tree would, becoming a ruby red in Autumn. It blooms on old and new wood, so don’t worry about pruning - just occasional thinning and deadwooding. It can get relatively large – 4-8' - but is a great choice if you want something that will provide interest over multiple seasons.

H. quercifolia, Courtesy Mt Cuba Center

Hydrangea paniculata “Bobo” - This hydrangea is a favorite of mine and, if the comments I get when working in Italianate are any indication, a favorite of our guests too. You’ll find this variety circling the Italianate fountain, where it provides a great backdrop for our annual plantings. I love the profusion of foamy panicles this variety produces – it's elegant enough for the formal symmetry of the Italianate, yet loose enough to not feel too stuffy. To care for this variety, I do minimal work in-season (just taking off broken/droopy stems), then let the plants be until late winter (the flowers are lovely dried!). I then prune quite heavily – to about 18-24" high.

Hydrangea paniculata 'Bobo' in the Italianate Garden at Elm Bank, 2022

Caring for Hydrangeas

Caring for hydrangea differs depending on what variety you’re working with, but here are some basic tips:

• Hydrangea arborescens (you may be familiar with the cultivar “Anabelle,” which we have growing in large drifts in Bressingham) should be cut to the ground every year – this keeps it from getting too messy and top heavy. I do this in late winter.
• Hydrangea macrophylla (the most common hydrangea you’ll see around) blooms on old wood – so you don’t necessarily have to worry about pruning. If you do, do it in late summer, when they set their buds.
• Hydrangea paniculata, as I said above, ages and dries beautifully, so I wouldn’t worry about pruning them until late winter or early spring. Then, I remove 1/3 of the old wood (or whatever seems right), dead and diseased branches, anything crossing strangely, and anything thinner than a pencil. For whatever’s left, I prune to the second bud scale up from wherever it branches off.