| The
red granite and sandstone walls of The Brown Palace have watched
more than a century of Colorado and Denver history develop.
The city was a mere 34 years old when Henry C. Brown opened the
doors of his monument to himself in August, 1892. It was a
braggart city built by men who had made fortunes based on the gold
and silver drawn from the mountains they then viewed from mansions
on Capitol Hill where Brown had first homesteaded. They welcomed
the new, elegant locale in which to conduct their business deals.
Their wives took tea and their daughters danced at lavish balls.
It was fittingly a palace for "The Queen City of the Plains" as
Denver dubbed itself. Inside the hotel designed by architect Frank
E. Edbrooke, the eight story atrium, its pillars and wainscoting
of pale golden onyx from Mexico reflecting the pastel shades of
the stained glass ceiling, rivaled the grandest of hotels "back
East." A massive fireplace, the mantel of which was supported by
two solid pillars of onyx, was a welcome amenity when the winter
winds howled down from the snow-capped peaks to the west.
Through the years, The Brown Palace has seen it all - boom
times and depressions, peace and war. If the walls could talk,
what stories they would tell of love and betrayal, success and
failure, happiness and despair.
Emperors, kings and presidents have been cosseted here. Royal
queens and the goddesses of stage and screen have primped in these
rooms. The walls know their stories. We can only imagine them.
President and Mrs. Eisenhower were the most frequent First
Family to visit The Brown Palace. It served as his pre-campaign
headquarters in 1952, and they spent many of their summer
vacations here. To commemorate them, the former Presidential Suite
was renamed The Eisenhower Suite in 1980. The Eisenhower stories
are recounted during the twice-weekly historical tours (Wednesday
and Saturday, 2:00 p.m.).
More than 700 wrought iron grill work panels ring the lobby
from the third through the seventh floor. Two of them are upside
down, one to serve the tradition that man, who can not be perfect,
must put a flaw into his handiwork; the other sneaked in by a
disgruntled workman. Finding these bits of history intrigue
visitors to the 112-year old Brown Palace. |