Wilbraham Mansion
Cape May businessman John Wilbraham has been gone for more than a century, but his ghost lingers on in the Myrtle Street home that bears his name.
As you enter the front parlor of the Wilbraham Mansion, there is the lord of the manor, gazing down from a portrait above the mantel. Glance to the right, and there he is again, looking out from a formal black-and-white photo. It’s a benevolent presence in the bed-and-breakfast inn, which has changed and expanded over the generations, but looks very like the home as it was occupied by Wilbraham and his wife Ann in the early 1900s.
Innkeepers Doug and Joanne Carnes are dedicated to preserving the “high Victorian” style that was in vogue when the Wilbraham couple lived here. That means lofty ceilings with deep moldings and ornamental plasterwork, silvery diamond-dust mirrors with gilded frames, and chandeliers dripping with crystal pendants. It means velvety upholstery, marble-topped tables, and patterned wall coverings in deep jewel tones, contrasting with white lace curtains. It means lots and lots of windows, artfully placed to let in natural light, warmth, and in the warmer weather, passing breezes.
John Wilbraham is said to have made several fortunes: one in the California Gold Rush, a second as co-owner with his brother of a Philadelphia iron foundry, and a third as the inventor of an industrial fan called the Wilbraham blower. But his move to Cape May was a matter of pure luck.
According to local lore, in December 1900 Wilbraham won the house in a game of poker, drawing a straight flush in hearts. He relocated from the city to the shore and set about transforming the property: raising it from ground level, enclosing the porch, adding parlors, and turning what had been a rustic farmhouse into a mansion. The owners’ carriage horses grazed in what is now Wilbraham Park, and their city friends could travel down in the homeowners’ dedicated rail car.
The past is still present in the house, fronted by sycamore and silver maple trees and surrounded by a decorative fence from the family ironworks. A hall tree inside the front door holds several ladies’ hats and a vintage purse, as if someone from that bygone era had just entered and tossed them there. That curious simultaneity, the feeling of living in two worlds, fills this gracious B&B.
Afternoon tea is a daily ritual. When I visited, chef Chris Carnes, who’s in charge of the kitchen here, served two kinds of cake: a dense orange pound cake studded with semisweet chocolate bits and a lighter, lemony cake dusted with confectioner’s sugar. Decisions, decisions. Of course, I tried both and enjoyed it with grapes and black cherry yogurt on the enclosed veranda. What a pleasant way to spend the late afternoon, in a bright, quiet space, perfect for resting or reading.
The guest rooms—10 in the historic main house and 12 in the adjacent Wilbraham Suites, which opened in 2008—continue the Victorian theme with ornately carved wooden furnishings, antique lighting, and period art. The Suites are different principally because of the amenities, says Doug Carnes.
“Cape May has a unique way of blending the historic and the new,” he says. “You can choose an authentic 1890s room in the mansion or splurge on a suite outfitted in Victorian décor but with the modern comforts,” including gas fireplaces, Jacuzzi Salon Spa whirlpool baths for two, and mini fridges, along with additional seating areas.
But I was there for the classic experience. My second-floor mansion unit had two bedrooms. The larger, with dramatic scarlet wallcoverings, had a queen-size mahogany bed, so tall I could have used a stepstool, offset by a creamy muslin swag, white lace at the windows, a double globe lamp, alabaster statuary, and other period fixtures. The adjoining room repeated the design theme on a smaller scale. In-between was the bath, without the whirlpool, but with a contemporary double-headed shower. Very relaxing.
The main attraction for many guests is the rustic pool house, adjoining the mansion, the only one of its kind in the city, with water set at a constant, soothing 90 degrees. Just sitting in the space at dusk, watching the illuminated pool beneath a wall of stained glass, was meditative. The pool is open 24 hours a day, so odds are you can have the space to yourself (but due in part to the open pool, children must be at least 12 years of age to accompany adults).
Come morning, guests gathered for a big breakfast of sausage, eggs, and blueberry muffins, served family style, and thickly sliced French toast that was out of this world. It was a friendly interlude, and everyone chatted easily: the young couple visiting here for the first time, and the longtime marrieds who come down for every anniversary. Many around the table are regulars who said the Wilbraham Mansion is their go-to place in Cape May.
A history of the Wilbraham family mentions this old house, saying it is “situated in a beautiful spot, and is of beautiful structure.” It’s said that Ann Wilbraham is still in residence here, and walks these rooms at the witching hour, about 3am.
If I had once lived here, I think I’d stick around too.
