I’ve been intrigued with Bonnet House ever since a water taxi guide pointed it out while we were on the Intracoastal Waterway in Fort Lauderdale during one of our first vacations to South Florida. From the water, the 35 acres look like a jungle, a section of property completely undeveloped and straddling the land between the Intracoastal and the Atlantic Ocean.
Somewhere in all that greenery, though, was a house — an historic house, a legendary house. The story, according to the water taxi guide — who tells tales of all the mansions along the Intracoastal — is the house was the home of two artists, Frederic and Evelyn Bartlett.
In 1983, thirty years after Frederic’s death, she gifted her little piece of paradise to the Florida Trust for Historic Preservation so future generations could see Florida the way it looked in 1931, the year she married Frederic.
In exchange, Evelyn would be allowed to live there — tax-free — until her death. The Trust, the City, the County, and the State couldn’t decline such a generous gift, particularly because Mrs. Bartlett was, at the time of the gifting, already 96 years old.
Well, our dear Mrs. Bartlett, born of strong Midwest stock and possessing strong ties to New England, held onto the estate until she passed at 107 years of age — which means the government did not receive taxes on the property for 14 years.
The estate, though, remained a secret for Joe and me. For whatever reason, we never made a visit. In the intervening years, I had heard stories of orchids in the trees and monkeys, descendants of Mrs. Bartlett’s animal collection. In my mind, I envisioned manicured lawns and formal gardens. I pictured Wonderland, an Oz in my own backyard.
Thanks to friends visiting from New York, we made actual plans to visit Bonnet House. A long driveway slices through natural, untouched land. There’s a grassy parking area, and after paying the entrance fee, visitors gathered in the desert garden — a sandy area that’s an oasis of succulents, cactus, and date palms.
There weren’t any manicured lawns or formal gardens. This wasn’t Newport, RI. This was old, pre-development, pre-Spring Break Fort Lauderdale.
When the tour guide arrived, we moved as a group to the gate. Frederic Clay Bartlett, said the guide, was already a widower when he built the house in 1921 after receiving the land as a gift from the father of his second wife, the poet Helen Louise Birch. At the time, Fort Lauderdale was a small settlement on the New River and Florida panthers roamed the barrier beaches.
At last, the guide opened the gate, and as more and more came into view — I wasn’t Alice or Dorothy. Instead, I was Charlie stepping into Willy Wonka’s whimsical world.
The house — simple, rustic, brightly painted — was built around an open-air courtyard. A covered colonnade keeps the sun off of guests as they walk from room to room.
Bartlett’s second wife died in 1925. Soon after, he met Evelyn, the daughter of a wealthy Midwest family and the ex-wife of Eli Lilly, grandson of the founder of the Eli Lilly Pharmaceutical Company.
Upon their marriage, she began to add her touches to the home, which was built to look like a Caribbean plantation. According to an interview with Mrs. Bartlett, the interior was “very severe” and “had no decoration at all.”
Mrs. Bartlett changed all that. She even gave the house its name in honor of the bonnet lilies that bloomed in the waterway adjacent to the main house.
The house is most certainly a celebration of two artists who traveled, collected art (much of which the couple donated to the Art Institute of Chicago), and loved each other. Art is everywhere — and each item has meaning — which is a big reason why every effort is taken to preserve the contents of the house. There is no air conditioning and no photography (which is why my photos are of outdoor moments).
In addition to decorating the house, Mrs. Bartlett also decorated the outdoors with many varieties of orchids. One news report even said she could recount how and where every plant was found, collected, or purchased.
Which brings me to the one indoor photo I had to take — of the Orchid House. There was so much light streaming in, and I figured my camera couldn’t hurt it. I also thought Mrs. Bartlett, although very private, was a gardener who knew all of the details of her plants and wouldn’t mind sharing her orchids with the rest of the world.
23 thoughts on “Field Trip: Bonnet House”
Wow! Thank you for sharing this wondrous place with us. I’d never heard of it until today; now it’s on my list of must see’s.
Hi Linda. It’s a very interesting place, and I couldn’t believe it was in my backyard. I didn’t see any of the monkeys, but I’m told they do wander the grounds. Happy travels!
You’re very welcome, Mrs. P.
Pingback: Field Trip – SEO
Thank you for telling us about this hidden gem, I have added it to my growing list of places to visit… and now I am dreaming of an orchid house 😉
Oh I must see this place! It’s going on my bucket list as well. Living in the midwest myself, I am so envious of all the lush tropical-ness! I adore the ceiling painted with whimsical arrowhead vine like leaves. That’s something I would do. I really want to see the inside, especially since it’s filled with art! Thanks for sharing!
Hi Jaime. It’s a must see — and the story of the Bartlett’s is as fascinating as their art. Thanks for commenting!
Wow, that’s amazing, especially the orchid house! Though I confess my first thought on seeing the gazebo photo was how much of a PITA it must be to have to repaint that ornate yellow railing, LOL. And what a charming name: “Bonnet House” …. I’ve always wanted a house with a name, but hereabouts that would be totally pretentious unless it was situated up on the Gold Coast (and about 5 lightyears out of my price range.) 🙂
I wonder how one goes about naming their house. Is it an official process? Either way, you’ve given me the idea to just start telling people the name of my house (which I need to think of now) by slipping it into conversations. Haha.
Hello M’Iwannabealady. Go on — give your place a name. 🙂
Haha, I’m thinking of using M’Iwannabealady…. 🙂
My Dear Lady C — every home should have a name. Joe and I gave our house a name, if only for us to get a few laughs. In New York, it was The Pines, because of all the — well — pines. In Florida, it’s Tres Palmas — although we now have more than three around the yard. How about Chatsworth Manor?
What a magical place they created. Thanks for sharing
Hi Dorris. I think magical is a perfect word for their home and garden. 🙂
What an interesting history! That banyan tree is gorgeous. What a fun place to visit, with all those orchids in the trees, brightly colored buildings, and artistic touches!
Hi Indie. I love when I see a banyan tree, but not in my yard. They are tremendous — but they provide so much shelter for wildlife. Hope all well.:)
What a marvelous place. I imagine she would have been a treat to listen to.
Hi PD. I have a feeling she was a bit eccentric — but I love her story. (And to think they lived in that house without air conditioning — just broad overhanging eaves and cross ventilation.)
What a neat place and such an interesting story of Mrs. Bartlett. She really lived to a ripe old age. Good she made that deal too on the taxes. Bet they had no idea she would live that long.
Hi Donna. Whenever the story is told on the water taxi ride along the Intracoastal, there’s a cheer from everyone. I can only imagine the city fathers at the time wondering when the old lady would kick the bucket… She had the last laugh. 🙂
A splendid place and the orchid house is divine! Great story.
Hi C&F. The orchid house did take my breath away — and adjacent to it is a small tiki-like bar, for a sultry evening beverage. 🙂