CAPE MAY — When the Merry Widow first opened its doors at 42 Jackson St. a few decades ago, it perfectly encapsulated two eras smashing into each other: the high Victorian and the even higher 1870s.
The 1879 structure had begun life as a relatively simple farmhouse before being “modified” by J. Henry Edmunds in 1885, according to the filing at the Historic Preservation Office.
Those modifications included turrets, an extra floor, a wrap-around porch and even more rooms toward the back, becoming a vibrant example of the Princess Anne style.
The excess of the late Victorian era was amplified by the breakneck excess of the 20th century: gingerbread had clearly always been waiting for neon colors and bolder choices, antiques were piled up like Pokemon cards and the island was gripped by a fever dream approach to wallpaper, stacking borders on trompe l’oeil, on patterns, on jazz riffs of the pattern, on deconstructed re-imaginings of the pattern, often with matching upholstery. It was wild.
The eye never knew where to rest, and in this way the island beat its critics into a stunned submission.
The Merry Widow had exuberant pieces of all that, just one block from the beach. Over the next 30 years, Jackson Street coalesced into the center of nightlife, becoming rife with spectacle, everyone running into new friends, dressing up, being seen.
It would be an overstatement to call the sidewalk a cat walk, there were far too many golf dads for that, but it was the closest the city ever came to a nightly parade ground.
Each address along the route approached that in its own way: some with open-air dining on the porch and some with taller fences, opting out of the “being seen” part.
The Merry Widow anchored the madness but kept her cards close to her bright green chest. Once a visitor rounded that curving facade, past the unique double-width staircase, they were on stage: as likely to be pulled into the Mad Batter for a sudden singalong as to be met with appraising stares from those dining on the porch of the Virginia Hotel.
Everything has changed since those days, and now visitors prize something their show-off forebears would never have expected: privacy.
No one wants to be stuck at a breakfast table with the “charming” owner of the inn anymore; they’d rather have a kitchenette or just go out for brunch. The era of the quirky, chatty inn is over; the weekly rental is back, but any resemblance to the weekly rentals of the 1950s has been smashed by the application of nearly endless luxury.
A location, where the Merry Widow holds court over the intersection of the Washington Street Mall/Carpenter’s Lane with the final beach-ward length of Jackson Street, might have been enough to skimp on some of the more luxurious touches, but we’ve sailed past those days. Every surface of this penthouse unit has been updated to please today’s tastes and expectations.
Unit #3 has two entrances: one requires guests to enter through the grand front porch, climbing the beautifully carved wood stairs, reaching the top floor only after a tour of the historic grande dame, passing a turret sitting room along the way.
The other allows one to enter privately from the back, where a designated parking spot awaits, up the side stairs to the private terrace and in through sliding doors to the kitchen and great room.
That high up, one can have all the privacy one needs: the subtle angles of the roof enhances the feeling of a nest or eyrie, while the kitchen view of the outside terrace feels almost like a canal boat. Despite the constant foot traffic outside, this space is quiet and sheltered.
There is one bedroom and one bath in this unit and they are unusually elegant. The architecture plays a part, and recent renovations wisely let the shape of the space dictate how it would be used.
The result is a bit playful in spots, allowing light to move through the complicated room shapes created by multiple turrets. Custom pleated shades can be closed in all the windows, to either block light or increase the feeling of privacy, but from this height there’s not much need in most of the rooms.
The bedroom feels simple and safe, with built-in storage creating a peaceful sense of tidiness without the suitcase obstacle course.
The bathroom is incredible, meandering first past a wide vanity with even more storage, then to a standing shower clad in pristine stone tile, and finally to a free-standing tub in the middle of a turret.
Although clean and modern, this space’s heirloom roots are plain to see in the shape of the slipper tub and the views of gingerbread-covered gables all around.
The present-day attitude toward comfort is probably easiest to spot in the great room, where an open plan combines the sitting room, dining area and kitchen.
A simple galley stretches from one wall to the other, between the sliding doors to the terrace and the stairs to the rest of the house. The countertops provide some natural color but the overall tendency is toward a tasteful cream shade, with light wood and tiled floors.
The second “wing” of the kitchen fills the back wall of this space, where the refrigerator and another sink are handy for anyone in the sitting or dining area without crowding the galley.
This was a clever use of space that makes entertaining less stressful and cooking safer if there are young ones around. It also disguises the in-unit laundry closet. The seating area fills the largest turret, opening up above with more light.
Through the glass doors the private terrace occupies a sheltered spot between the various angles of the steep mansard roof, but still offers a view of the rooftops all around and the sea beyond.
That is a large enough spot to enjoy meals, sunbathing or just relaxing after a day enjoying everything Cape May offers: almost all of which is only a few steps away, because this location is absolutely the beating heart of the Historic District.
In this property’s recent history, this unit has been renting for more than $4,000 per week, and it’s easy to see why: everything one dreams about when visiting the city is right there, beneath this private sanctuary.
This is a well-known property — so much so that the oft-used word “iconic” would not be out of place describing the Merry Widow — and opportunities like this are rare.
