Ten plants that coped with the drought

Following on from my last post, in which I showed which plants had withered and died in the extreme drought conditions of the summer just gone, here are the ones that survived (and in some cases, thrived).

  1. Ceratostigma
    I’m not entirely sure on the variety (it’s probably C. willmottianum) as this pre-dates our arrival in the garden. We’ve split and moved it around the garden freely. It’s a lovely ground cover plant with glossy, deep green leaves and strikingly blue flowers in mid to late summer (this photo was taken in August). While other plants shrivelled due to lack of moisture, this coped admirably.

2. Cornus alba ‘Sibirica’
We’ve got a few plants of this, and they’re cuttings of cuttings – it strikes easily, and layers easily too. Its root system is quite extensive, which could explain why it wasn’t overly troubled by the drought.

3. Fig
No big surprise here, as fig is known to thrive in poor, dry soil. This is the standard ‘Brown Turkey’ variety. Although it’s growing well, in full sun, and as recommended, I attempted to restrict the roots by enclosing them with a cage of paving stones, it hasn’t produced any fruit for us yet. I took this photo after I’d pruned and tied in the stems – the growth was very lush prior to this.

4. Iris sibirica
The Siberian irises just seem to go from strength to strength here. I initially put them by the pond, in what was supposed to be a bog garden. But the clumps bulk up quickly, and I’ve split them and moved it all around the garden. It flowers in June, so had done its stuff before the drought had been dragging on, but the leaves died down no more quickly than they would do in a ‘normal’ year. Iris sibirica is generally advised to be a plant that loves (and needs) moisture. But of course, plants don’t read the text books. By August the flowers were long gone, but you can see the leaves are still fine. The flower stems turn brown and stand strong throughout the winter, giving what us pretentious garden designers like to call ‘architectural interest’.

5. Day Lilies
Day Lilies have been a revelation to me. I hadn’t seen too much of them until we arrived here. I moved them, somewhat carelessly, not being that bothered whether they survived or not, but they both survived and spread, and I’ve come to love them. The flowers are very attractive, and also edible – they look great on a salad. The varieties in our garden have only a limited flowering period, but the day lily season is eagerly awaited. Apparently the newer varieties flower for much longer. The photo is of my favourite (here at the tail end of its flowering), which I think may be ‘Stafford’. Day lilies appear to be bullet proof, muscling their way through on any soil, in any conditions. We will plant more!

6.Stipa tenuissima
Apparently this has been renamed as Nassella tenuissima, by those great friends of the gardener (!) botanists. The name suggests it might like a hot, dry climate, and it does. It seeds prolifically in our thin, sandy soil, and had no issues with the drought. You need to keep on top of the seedlings, but it is a pretty plant that looks good all year round, moves in the breeze, and works well as a background or companion to so many perennials.

Another stipa – Stipa gigantea – has been equally resilient.

7. Physocarpus ‘Diabolo’
I love this dark-leaved physocarpus, which has clusters of small white flowers with rich red surrounds. It has taken to our soil and grown well. By the end of the summer it was looking a little tired, but undaunted.

8. Skimmia
Another shrub that was in the garden when we arrived. Not one of my favourites, but it survived a move that was necessarily brutual (it was rather big to move at the time) and flourished. It does get shade until mid to late afternoon, which will have helped, but this glossy-leaved evergreen came through the drought with no obvious ill effects.

It’s turned out to be a bigger variety than I’d guessed it to be, so I’ve moved it again, this time to the back of the border. Let’s hope it survives.

And the last two are plants that might not surprise you…

9. Salvias
These are the type that are not always entirely hardy. But despite our living in a cold, windy area (thanks to the desolate, tree-less landscape created by the ‘custodians of the countryside’) the bright red Salvia ‘Royal Bumble’ has come through the last four winters. We added Salvia ‘Nachtvlinder’, which is similar, but with dusky purple flowers – less showy than S.’Amistad’, but you don’t have to buy it new every year. They need trimming back now and then, but will flower from June until autumn. We’ve acquired some other, similar varieties this year. This bright, sub-shrub could be one of the answers to the question of what we fill our garden with if the summers continue to be very dry – it is happy in our light soil, and copes well with low rainfall.

10. Sedum
The succulent leaves give this plant a mechanism for living for long periods without much moisture. Did I say sedum? I meant Hylotelephium of course (another botanist curve-ball!) The first is a dark-leaved variety called Xenon, from a cutting I was given when I volunteered at Dyffryn gardens in South Wales.

An extra to the ten is a plant that I grew from seed a few years ago. Datura metaloides is a highly fragrant, tender plant with large white trumpets, which is related to the highly prized Brugmansia. In fact, some sources suggest the two are one and the same species, with the sole difference being that Datura holds its flowers upright, while in Brumansia they hang down. Both are highly poisonous (reading between the lines, I think they mean hallucinogenic, but apparently people have died trying this out for themselves, so not recommended). The leaves and flowers are greasy – I would recommend you don’t lick your fingers after touching it (best wear gloves). But anyway, it seeds prolifically (from large spikey seed capsules that could double as a mace) and the seeds stay in the soil and germinate freely in late spring/early summer.

I moved some of the seedlings that came up, and they struggled somewhat (though they came through in the end). Those that were allowed to grow without disturbance flourished, and were apparently able to grow big and lush, and produce lots of huge flowers, regardless of the lack of rain (and we didn’t water them at all either). So if you want an annual that grows itself, and needs no input from the gardener, you could try Datura (if you dare…)

In truth, despite the sad state of the garden during this year’s drought, there were a surprising number of plants that did quite well. I could have included Gaura (sorry; Oenothera!), evergreen Euonymus and Calamagrostis ‘Overdam’. Though the garden was badly hit by the drought, more plants came through successfully than didn’t (and those that died will probably come back next year). So it wasn’t as bad as all that. All the same, if we get more years like the one just gone, changes will need to be made, and we’ll need to re-stock the garden with plants that will thrive in the new conditions. From experience in my garden, top of my list will be day lilies, grasses (particularly stipas), salvias, sedum and physocarpus.

I wish you all a happy horticultural 2026

Garden Visit – Wollerton Old Hall Gardens

Wollerton Old Hall Garden, in Shropshire, is referred to in the David Austin rose catalogue as one of the most beautiful private gardens in the country. So beautiful in fact, that they decided to name a rose after it. When I discovered the garden was only seven miles from where I now live, I got very excited, and of course, had to visit at the earliest possible opportunity. That was back in October last year. I kept my review back, so I could bring it out to brighten the dark days of the lockdown. Now seems to be an appropriate time.

We visited on a cool, fairly dull day. It was well into Autumn, and some of the leaves were colouring up well. The late-flowering perennials, such as asters (most of which were probably in the newly created category of symphyotricum – thanks for that, botanists!) had taken over the floral responsibilities. They also have quite a range of salvias, which flower over a long period, and were still going strong…

Most of these are slightly tender, so may need some protection in a cold winter. Having them in well-drained soil, in a sunny, sheltered position, should normally be sufficient. The flower in the next picture is unfamiliar to me, and there wasn’t a label, so if anyone knows what it is, please let me know.

Unidentified, but striking – actually, I’m wondering if this isn’t a form of salvia

Apparently the gardens were created in 1983, but look as if, like the house itself, they’ve been there for centuries. It isn’t clear from the website, but I suspect many of the solid features – walls, pillars and gateways – are original.

Doorway to autumn!

Beyond this doorway, a grass path curves around, adding (cliche alert) a sense of mystery…

There are lots of hydrangeas at Wollerton; particularly the paniculata types, which in my opinion are the best. This magnificent specimen is Hydrangea ‘Unique’ (except it isn’t, because I’ve seen it elsewhere!)…

Wollerton is arranged as a series of themed areas, or ‘garden rooms’. This one is called the hot garden…

There are some decidedly cool colours in there too; particularly the blue aster making its late season entrance among the fiery dahlias and cannas. And there are a few cheeky little blue salvias invading this jungle-like banana and dahlia combination…

This is salvia ‘Amistad’; a large, beautiful deep blue variety with almost black calyces. Salvias are pollinated in a particular way. Called the ‘staminal lever mechanism’, when an insect (say, a bee) enters the flower, they weigh down a trigger that causes the stamen to press down on their back and deposit some pollen, which they then transport on to any other flowers they visit. Except, some bees struggle to get all the way into the flower. So instead, they cheat; biting through the base of the flower to get to the nectar. Here’s one in action…

A peep at the old hall itself, hiding among the salvias…

This is the upper rill garden (not to be confused with the lower rill garden). The design makes full use of different levels, from the height of the standard trees, through the mid-level hydrangeas in large terracotta pots, right down to the rounded shapes of box at ground level. And all of it reflected back up through the surface of the water in the formal pond. The plants are set out like chess pieces facing each other…

Back in October the cafe was still open, albeit with social distancing measures, and masks to be worn when not sitting at your table. It’s an attractive interior space, and I seem to remember the staff were friendly, and the cakes were very good.

The plant sales were limited due to the pandemic (I hadn’t realised it can be transmitted to plants) but I couldn’t stop myself from buying a couple of salvias. Unfortunately they’d had a run on ‘Amistad’, so I picked up a couple of other varieties, including a vibrant red one called ‘Royal Bumble’ – one for my very own hot garden.

To have such a wonderful garden so close to where you live is a great privilege , and not one I intend to waste. I’m going to buy a season ticket, and visit often; I’m looking forward to watching the garden as it changes throughout the year.

Wollerton Old Hall Garden re-opens at the end of this week (Easter Friday).

Text & photos © Graham Wright 2021