Savannah Historic District — Est. 1897
The Ivory
House
A nineteen-room townhouse on Chippewa Row, restored beam by beam and kept, on purpose, small.
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A nineteen-room townhouse on Chippewa Row, restored beam by beam and kept, on purpose, small.
"We have never wanted to be the biggest room on the block. Only the one you remember."
Built in 1897 as a merchant's townhouse, the building passed through three families and twenty-two quiet years of vacancy before we found it. The restoration took four years — longer than we planned, because we refused to cover the original heart-pine floors or patch over the plaster medallions in the front parlor.
What opened in 2019 is not a hotel in the usual sense. It's nineteen rooms, no two alike, a staff who will learn your name by the second morning, and a front door that still sticks a little in July.
Every room is furnished individually from estate sales and local makers — no two headboards match, and none of the rooms face a parking lot, because there isn't one.
Ground floor, opening onto the courtyard through a pair of French doors original to the house.
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Second floor, with the house's original clawfoot tub set beneath the tallest window.
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A corner suite with its own ironwork balcony overlooking Chippewa Row.
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A glassed-in sunroom sitting area and one of only two working fireplaces in the house.
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The full top floor, with a private terrace that shares the plunge pool's view of the steeples.
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Once the house's private library — the built-in shelves stayed, now filled with guests' recommendations.
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Heated year-round, four loungers, no reservation required.
An honesty bar open until 1am. Your first pour is on us.
Poured nightly, 6 to 7, in the front parlor.
Lit on request in select rooms, October through March.
Six bicycles with baskets, first come, first served.
Magnolia and jasmine. Breakfast served here April through October.
Massage and facials, 48 hours' notice preferred.
Nightly, with shortbread and a note about tomorrow's weather.
"Guests keep asking why we don't put loungers on the front for four."
Lowcountry-leaning, market-driven, and genuinely different from one week to the next — our chef shops the Forsyth Farmers' Market Saturday mornings and writes the menu from what's good, not what's planned.
Built around sherry, amaro, and a short, changing cocktail list. Order the bartender's choice and tell them what you don't like — that's the whole system.
A basket — biscuits, seasonal fruit, coffee from a local roaster — set outside your room between 7 and 10am. No knock, no small talk before coffee.
Six seats in the original wine cellar, one seating, one Thursday a week. Book thirty days out — it's the only reservation in the house we can't rush.
A historic walking tour with our resident historian, three mornings a week.
A guided kayak launch on the tidal river, coffee waiting when you return.
Packed by the kitchen that morning — blanket, basket, and a bottle included.
Build your own perfume with a Savannah perfumer, working from the house's own garden notes.
A guided tasting in the Reading Room, six pours and six cheeses.
A private walk through the squares at dusk — history and a few of the stories the tours skip.
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"We asked for a late checkout and they just — didn't charge us for it. That kind of thing keeps happening here."
"The sherry hour is not a gimmick. We went every single night, and by night three the bartender had stopped asking what we wanted."
"Our room had a working fireplace in April, and nobody made us feel strange for lighting it anyway."
"It's the only hotel bar I've ever been genuinely sad to leave. We rebooked from the taxi to the airport."
Nineteen rooms, booked directly with us. Do it here and the sherry hour is on the house.