When people think of Southern plantation houses they may think of big big white columns and broad verandas, but the house we stayed in on a recent quail hunting trip down South was a far and charming cry from the ante-bellum architectural cliché. Nestled among the pines and surrounded by camellias and blossoming redbuds, the house at Foshalee Plantation is more old-time Adirondack than grandiose Greek Revival, but the hospitality is as warm and Southern as it gets.
Built in 1922 by its then-owner Harry Payne Whitney (yes those Whitneys) the house’s exterior shingles are made of cypress and were all split right there on the property from trees in the slough (pronounced slew) of Lake Foshalee. Young boys, black and whilte, children of the families who lived and worked on or around the plantation, did much of the work.
The name Foshalee is an Indian word meaning dry lake or dry water, which is sort of a contradiction in terms but you know what they mean. Whitney called the house the Shooting Box.
Whitney was one of many wealthy Northerners who bought plantations in the Thomasville-Tallahassee area in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and spent the winter months here shooting, riding, hunting, and good-time-having. In fact the story goes that when Harry, as he was known, was trying to decide where to build the house, he and a buddy toured the place in a horse-drawn buggy driven by a young black employee. Of course they brought something with them in case they got thirsty. Well the day wore on and Harry and friend got drunk and never could decide where to put the house, so they asked the young fella what he thought. He pretty much looked up right from where he was and pointed –“there,” and proceeded to recommend it with great conviction. Whitney and his friend, between hiccups, agreed.
Sadly it seems Mrs. Whitney, neé Gertrude Vanderbilt (yes those Vanderbilts) was not much interested in Foshalee. She was a sculptor and art collector and founder of a little museum called the Whitney Museum of American Art and spent her summers at a little house in Newport called The Breakers.
Nothing against gilded-age marble mansions on cliffs overlooking the ocean, but Foshalee is everything The Breakers is not. Modest, unpretentious, homey, and real.
And though there have been several storied families to own Foshalee since the Whitneys, The distinct impression is that while improvements and additions have been made over time, the intention of the place has not changed. Why womp it up into something it doesn’t need to be? It’s just right just like it is: a piece of history and a peace of mind.
Which is not to diminish the house’s aesthetic attributes. A resident lizard, for example. And if he wanted to tell me how I could “save 20% or more on car insurance!”, he didn’t. He kept to himself. Country lizards are like that.
The pecky cypress paneled living room is lived-in and comfortable. The ribbed vaulted ceiling is repeated in the dining room down the hall.
The dining room’s herringbone wall paneling is handsome, and a carved molding adds another bit of architectural interest. Through the door to the left is the butler’s pantry leading to the kitchen.
Ah, and my favorite room in the house, the bar. A collection of old family photographs and other memorabilia are arranged in the compact space,
as are the julep cup trophies won through the years by the dog-loving owners in field trial competitions.
Foshalee Field Trial Trophies
This beautiful pheasant feather and pine cone wreath was on the door.
And I still love old-timey twin beds in guest rooms, though in this age of super-sizing they seem to be increasingly rare.
It had been a while since I’d seen one of these…
Or one of these… The radio part worked like a charm. I could get the Tallahassee NPR station clear as a bell and was tickled about that.
Now I had never seen one of these, but I did recognize it as a boot jack. Very handy, boot jacks.
And my personal favorite of Foshalee’s decorative accessories:
Today Foshalee is owned by the Ireland family, and ably looked after by office manager Rebecca White and her husband, plantation manager Bubba White. The office email is lmk.foshalee@gmail.com. To read more about the area’s plantations and the prominent (and glamorous!) families who owned them, see this excellent feature on the New York Social Diary here. And my earlier post on the hunting–quite a site on horseback and mule-drawn wagons are here— and on the–ahem–spitting, here.
Oh, man! I want to move in, please? I envy that lizard.
Ahhhh, the TP cover. It’s been a long time for me as well. Hee! Hee!
another sweet entry full of touching articles of times past… like the twin beds and love those lizards!
Love that dining room that is so carefully crafted and magnificent yet not “arty.”
Partner, BTW, loves the term “pecky cypress” and uses it to describe any light brown wood… works it into as many conversations as possible (probably all those Palm Beach years…).
Charming! It looks like everyone had a great time. Love that TP holder … think my grandmother had one.
xo, Lissy
Yes Lissy I think lots of grandmothers had them, don’t you?! Thanks for writing! x Frances
Hi Frances, you were like in my backyard ! hope you enjoyed our warm spell. Sonya (over in Jackson Co. Fl)
Well hey Sonya! And yes we did! 🙂
Well, I never knew the Vanderbilts and Whitneys enjoyed a down-home vibe complete with pecky cyprus boards! I remember visiting their elegant stables and lofty mansions on my beloved Long Island. But I suppose everyone needs to get back to nature sometimes – even the lowly geckos!
hi fFances,
I am part of this quail shooting life… if you want to do it again, let me know…More importantly, I just became a grandmother! I hope she will be a tatrheel one day! Please let me know if you visit Charleston. You are always welcome in our home
xo
Croft
Croft! How great to hear from you again, and thank you! But a grandmother? My goodness surely not… Lord child, but what am I saying — I am a step-grandmère myself! Will surely let you know when we head to Charleston. I am due a visit – it has been too long. Love to you and yours, Frances
yes I am a very young grandmother !! Ha ha. botox hides many wrinkles!! I am trying to remember the years at st. marys. i was there from 1974-1976., do you remeber that? Iwas a Cold Cut!played the crazy stick!I guess you were in high school then, so I am 56 now, but i feel much younger,
hope you can visit
I used the wallpaper (behind the TP cover) in some spec houses my ex built in late 60’s -early 70’s. Great pattern with bold colors to use as accents.
Frances
So thankful for families like the Irelands that have spend years of planning to keep the plantations like Foshalee and others in South Georgia open. The Japanese Magnolias have been breath taking this year due to some days in the 70s and not much frost.
Your photos are the best. Thank you for thinking of us your devoted readers.
XO..Becky
Always pure joy to travel with you wherever your camera and your fluid vocabulary of “just the right words” takes us!!! What a splendid memory..I could almost smell that old house, musty smell that lets you know many have gone before you!!! You are the BEST!!! xoxo Mary Mac
I hope “His Grace”‘s shooting eye has improved since the last time he went after quail.
Dear TR, so nice to hear from you as I have heard so much about you. In the interest of domestic tranquility, however, I’m going to plead the 5th on His Grace’s behalf on this one. The shooting was challenging to say the least. Thank you for writing!! 😉 Frances
My grandpa and grandma were great friends with Katie and and spent a lot of time with her, they truly enjoyed the times hunting with her at Foshalee, my grandparents were Eddie J. And Cloma Moore. They became close friends here in Leslie county, KY. Katie loved our small community and her good friend Mary Breckenridge, whom she worked with to bring good healthcare to women and their children, or anyone else who needed medical attention. Katie was a big financial supporter of The Frontier Nursing Service, which became the Mary Breckenridge hospital. She was a very remarkable person who is loved dearly in my community. I have one of the books about Foshalee signed by Katie to my grandma.
Dear Eddie Dale, what a pleasure to hear from you and what a joy to know your story and connection to this treasure of Southern culture and American tradition. You remind us at this fraught time in our history of the importance and value of community, family, connection, and service. Thank you, and grace to you, Frances
Does anyone know what’s happened to Foshalee now? I know when Miss Kate died her nephew inherited the plantation but haven’t heard anything about it for a couple years.
Thank you.
Dear Kaki,
Thanks for writing, and as I do get inquiries occasionally about Foshalee as a result of this post, I decided to give them a call myself. Foshalee is indeed still operating as a hunting plantation, and according to office administrator Rebecca White, they had an outstanding quail season this year. Rebecca’s husband Bubba White is the plantation manager, and the office email is lmk.foshalee@gmail.com
Stay safe, and all good wishes to you,
Frances
Thank you so much Frances for following up on my email. We used to stay in that guest house and Miss Kate would have the kennel manager bring the current puppy litter over so I could sit in the yard and play with them all. We called it the puppy playpen! I’m so glad things are going well there. One year she named two of the puppies Bud and Louise after her sister and brother-in-law!
Kaki
Amazing and dear, thank you Kaki. I love making these connections. Warmly, Frances